1618686836 (F) (10 page)

She gave in then, to all of the feelings. She gave in to the pain and the hands, the howling and the whistling and the intolerable pressure between her ears. With acceptance came silence. A chasm opened up in her mind, deep and dark, a vicious wound in the side of the earth. Without thinking, Quinn let herself drop in to it. As she plummeted in to the centre of the world, her mind finally let go. At last, Quinn slept.

17

“Why did this happen to her?”

“You’re meant to be able to tell me that, herb man. Where’s your apprentice? He’ll tell me better than you.”

The old man bristled at the insult. The sheer cheek of the man! “Now you listen to me. I don’t care how high up the court you go, you do not bring in a sick girl to my care, and then tell me how to do my work.”

Sammah leaned in close, his voice low and threatening. “But you’re not doing any work, old man. You’re staring at her, asking questions, and shrugging a lot.”

Torran reddened. Sammah had had no choice when he’d put Maertn’s development in the hands of this man. Sammah was not a master of herb lore, though Torran claimed to be. It wouldn’t be long, Sammah knew, before Maertn took his place. Sure, the lad had an unfair advantage over his aging and confused master, but it had only been a matter of time anyway. People around the palace were finding it hard to forget that a well-liked corporal in the Royal Guard had needed a leg amputation last year, simply because Torran had failed to clear out an infection properly. People were finding it hard to trust him. Torran knew it wouldn’t be long before he was out of a job.

“What’s happened? The men from Sevenspells. I…is Quinn okay?”

Maertn threw himself in to the room in his usual way. Sammah wondered if he’d slow down when he stopped growing.

“We don’t know, Maertn. She’s fainted, but it’s not like before. Her nose is bleeding. We need you to look at her.”

Maertn looked to Sammah first, then his master of lore. The right order, Sammah thought. Torran nodded, not that he dare do anything else. Not needing any more encouragement, Maertn hurried to the side of his best friend. He placed his hand on her forehead, taking in the blood that had run from her nose, now covering her lips and chin. She was pale and cold, her body shivering even in sleep. Maertn’s hands moved from her forehead to her temples, his fingertips barely touching the skin. His lips moved gently as he worked, and Sammah knew he was channelling his abilities, without even really knowing it. Maertn was one of his charges who did not know they were gifted. Everyone just assumed he had immense talent. It was true, Maertn did study incredibly deeply in his craft. What Sammah knew that people in Everfell either didn’t, or refused to acknowledge, was that when Maertn touched Quinn, he could feel the problems within her body. He was sensing her ills. There were many talented like Maertn across Sha’sek. They all became eminent healers. It was possible to become one without such a gift, but you would never be as trusted, never get so many customers. When the time was right, Sammah intended to sell Maertn, gifts and all, to the highest bidder. He would fetch a fine return, more than worth the investment Sammah would outlay here to keep the lad alive.

Maertn frowned, looking up to Sammah with concern etched across his young face. “I can’t fix this.”

“What do you mean? What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know, sir. There’s something in her head. I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

“What does he mean by that?”

Sammah waved at Torran. “Get out of here old man. This is work beyond your capability.”

Torran puffed out his fragile chest and opened his mouth to argue when a hand clasped him on the shoulder. Mute and impassive, Elias led the away. They weren’t forceful. Torran, however, was left in no doubt that he was no longer welcome in his own workshop. Sammah moved around the cot where Quinn lay prone so he could speak more closely with Maertn.

“Describe it to me lad, what do you feel?”

Maertn shook his head as if to clear his own thoughts. Obviously what he was feeling was worrying him; usually he would have spoken his mind by now. “Normally, when I’m tending to someone, I get a sense of what’s wrong. Torran doesn’t understand that so I don’t bother trying to explain it to him. I know you understand, sir. But this, I’m not sure you will. It’s a pressure. I know there’s something wrong with her, but it’s not letting me feel it.”

“What do you usually feel when Quinn faints?”

“Before, I could feel something soft. Like her… I can’t explain it without sounding daft. It felt like I was pushing against a cloud. And the more I pushed, the more the cloud went away, like blowing away steam. This time, there’s something stopping me. It’s hard and cold. Like…like I was just touching her skull, and there’s nothing inside it.”

Sammah went cold. There had been an accident once, which he had witnessed when young. A boy had fallen from a cart and landed on his head. The boy had lived, somehow, though he had never been the same afterwards. He was more than simple. He could barely function. The best healers had been called. Not because his parents could afford it, but because he was a marvel amongst Sha’sek. They had all wanted to heal the boy, but one by one they had all been forced to admit there was nothing there. They couldn’t feel his illness. The boy was simply damaged beyond repair.

Had this happened to Quinn? Had she been hurt, and the guardsmen too fearful to admit it? Sammah realised Maertn was looking at him for answers. For once, he had none.

“I’ve heard of this before,” Sammah stammered. “It’s an illness of the brain. Of the mind. I’m not sure how much you can do either.”

Sammah paced the room, clenching and unclenching his fists as he thought. There was no way she had been hurt the same way as that boy. Her body didn’t show any signs of injury Something had made her faint, like all the times she had before when emotions had overwhelmed her. Maertn had given him half the answer; Quinn had passed out before. That time it had been because of her power, and only one person’s heated shouting. What had been happening in that courtyard to, not only cause her to faint, but to give her a nosebleed, and make her scream out in such pain?

“Elias?”

The bodyguard, his lips clamped shut, sought out his master with his eyes, every inch of his body showing rigid alertness. All of Sammah’s guards were mutes. Sammah made sure of it by removing their tongues. It was part of the contract. Every single man agreed to the procedure before it took place.

“I need my notebook. The hidebound journal. Fetch it for me, now. Make haste. Do not stop for anyone. Do not bring anyone back with you.”

The man nodded once and left. Sammah gestured to Maertn. “Keep checking her. See if there is anything else wrong. We can’t just abandon her.”

Maertn nodded and did as he was bidden. He was worried. Sammah sounded just as panicked as he felt, and that was not normal for their impassive adoptive father.

He ran his hands around the rest of Quinn’s face and neck. He hesitated at her shoulders. Sammah caught his hesitation and waved at him. “You’re a healer, Maertn. Stop being a fool. We don’t have the time to waste.”

Blushing at the intrusion, no matter what the capacity, Maertn felt down her arms and legs and her stomach. He placed his hand flat on her chest between her breasts. Her heart was strong, slow and regular. There was nothing else wrong with her. He knew it, as sure as he knew that the sun would rise in the eastern sky the next morning. Confident with his findings, Maertn pulled back his hand, his cheeks still flushing hot and red with embarrassment.

“There is nothing else wrong with her, sir. She’s healthy. Strong, even. It’s just her head.”

“It makes no sense. I’ve not heard of anything like this.”

The men waited in silence, Quinn’s breath coming slow and steady, until Elias returned with Sammah’s journal. Sammah snatched the massive yellowed volume and flung it down on the nearest patch of bare table. A bowl of poultice fell to the floor. Maertn bit back a cry of indignation. It had taken him hours to prepare. That was time he would not be getting back.

Sammah didn’t care. He wasn’t paying attention to anyone else around him now. He flipped through each page, pursing his lips and reading occasional words to himself out loud. When his eyes scanned over something of interest he noticeably paused, before moving on to the next page. After what seemed like an age, he punched the book in victory.

“Yes! I knew it. I knew it was something different.”

He gestured Maertn over and thumbed down at the page. “This is wrong with her! She can be healed, I know it, but only you can do it.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

Sammah caught himself. Paling a little he snapped the book shut and clutched it to his chest. Maertn was taken aback. Elias unfolded his arms, standing to attention at the odd reaction of his master.

“It’s…complex. An illness. Her parents…they had the same ailments. I recalled this, took note of it when I first found her. I was told all about it. There is a cure, and it can only be a healer of the highest order that can help her. If you can save her now Maertn, I will make sure that you replace Torran before the year is out. Not just as a reward. But because you will have shown the skill to deserve the post. Now here.”

Sammah tossed the journal to Elias, who caught it clumsily. Sammah tugged Maertn back to Quinn. She still hadn’t moved.

“I don’t understand. She’s not in any danger. Anyone could put their hand on her heart and feel it beating strong.”

“It’s not a malaise of the body, Maertn. It’s in the mind. You’d already given me half the answer, spirits praise you boy that you put me on the right path. You remember what you said, that before, when her mind felt like clouds, and you blew them away?”

Maertn nodded dumbly. “You’ve already saved her, this very problem, more than once before. You just didn’t know it. This time, it’s the same problem, it’s just…stronger. Harder. How did it feel again? Place your hands on her. What do you sense?”

Maertn did as he asked. Quinn still felt cold. Inside, there was a cool sphere that his hands cusped neatly. He told Sammah as much.

“Before, you imagined blowing away the cloud. This time, I want you to imagine heating up that sphere.”

Maertn made a confused face, opening his eyes to look down on Sammah. “What?”

“Exactly what I said. Your hands, they’re warmer than her skin, aren’t they?”

“Well, yes.”

“Then imagine they are heating that sphere. Quickly. We don’t have much time left.”

Maertn placed his hands on Quinn’s temples and, without any confidence, did as Sammah asked. He tried to concentrate on how cold she felt, and how warm he was. He imagined that heat going from him and through to her. After ten heartbeats, he felt the sphere respond under his touch. It was starting to yield. He was stunned. How had Sammah known this would work? What was written in that journal? How was he even doing this? This wasn’t normal healing.

As his mind wandered, he felt the sphere solidify again. He cursed himself for being twice a fool, for letting himself get distracted when Quinn’s life was in the balance. He redoubled his efforts, sweat beading his brow as he unconsciously raised his own body temperature to give force to his healing efforts. The sphere began to break down.

Sammah didn’t interrupt. Sammah wasn’t even breathing; he was holding a deep lungful of air, desperate to see a response on the pallid face of Quinn.

When she stirred, groaning in pain, both men cried out in relief. Maertn bit back a sob. It didn’t matter at that point she was in pain; at least she was making noise. Sammah knew that after his accident, that boy had never uttered another word.

Maertn shifted his hands from Quinn’s temples to her forehead, smoothing his thumb across it gently and soothingly. Sammah was stunned beyond words. He was doing all the right things without even knowing it. The lad was marvellous, truly naturally gifted. Quinn started muttering. Both men hushed her at the same time.

“You’re not well Quinn. You’ve had quite the fright. You need to rest. Maertn will look after you. As soon as you’re well enough to move, he’ll bring you back to your quarters. You’ll not be working again until the full moon, and I’ll make sure Ross knows it.”

Sammah left. He didn’t know if Quinn had understood his words, but Maertn had heard them clearly enough and would follow his instructions to the letter. He had a lot of work to do before Quinn was allowed to roam the castle again. He had known it, though he had perhaps been denying it. Both Quinn and Maertn were well beyond childhood now. Maertn was already considered an adult, and Quinn was not far behind him. They were becoming stronger. He had to act fast if he wanted to keep them within his control.

18

Quinn woke to three things. A phenomenal headache, the odd feeling of trying to figure out how she got back in to her bed, and a pleasantly surprising at feeling all of the tiredness behind her eyes gone. She didn’t open her eyes. She heard someone else breathing. Quinn wondered why she couldn’t feel them. Perhaps they were asleep. Perhaps it was Sammah. Then the door opened, and she heard Maertn’s voice whisper into the quiet.

“How is she?”

To Quinn’s astonishment, Sirah responded. “I don’t know. She hasn’t woken up yet. She’s barely even moved. Are you sure you healed her right?”