Sworn To Transfer (25 page)

“Something attacked her and that’s all I know,” replied Helen. When the group tried to question her, the healer further hustled them out with admonishments about the griffin needing rest.

*****

T
he next morning, Terris awoke alone in her room confused. She spoke to the healers after they came in and asked after her friends. Ciardis rushed in minutes later to see Terris sitting up and looking around. Terris gave her grin.

“How are you feeling?” Ciardis asked.

Terris shrugged. “Whole.” She was hesitant to add that her magic felt
weird.
She felt like she could hear other minds as well – animals perhaps but she wasn’t sure what they were. And while she’d been asleep, she’d felt awash with flames, as if she’d been burning alive and nothing could quench the white fire in her veins. It was probably the poison from the wendigo, Terris decided. They must have some kind of severe hallucinogenic properties like the giant land lizards on the Western Isles. One bite from the land lizards on her home island would give a person a high fever within hours along with delusions and muscle spasms. The creatures used the forced movement in their victims and the high fever to track them in the dense forest, and then devoured their prey once the poison had done its work to fully immobilize them.

Terris sighed and rubbed the back of her head, looking around the room she was in. It was clean and spacious, with new linens on the bed and what looked like vines woven into the ceiling. Sunshine came through the wood-carved windows and a breeze wafted through. Wistfully, she thought,
Reminds me of home
.

“Where are we?” asked Terris.

“The city of Ameles,” Ciardis said.

“Feel up for a walk?” said Terris.

“You’re asking
me
? You’re the one who just nearly died.”

Terris shrugged, “Pretty sure there’s nothing wrong with my legs.” Testing herself she swung her feet over the edge of the bed with Ciardis hovering over her anxiously.

Standing up tentatively she jumped up and down a little, “See? Feels fine!”

Ciardis blinked and said, “Alright. If you insist. But the minute you feel tired we’re coming back here.”

As they walked outside, she looked at Ciardis with raised eyebrows. “City?”

“That’s the literal translation of the Panen word for the place,” Ciardis said as she looked around ruefully. Compared to human cities, it really didn’t look like much of one. While humans carved their territories out of the surrounding nature, it looked as if the inhabitants of the Ameles Forest had done everything in their power to incorporate their ‘city’ into the forest. Huge, spiraling trees with large trunks that testified to centuries of existence served as the platform for an interconnected network of vine-crafted bridges and natural paths high up in the trees. On broad branches the size of normal city streets, the inhabitants had built or carved homes out of the trees upon which they stood. Natural light filtered in and out of the branches, with carefully placed mirrors reflecting light into darker corners of the thoroughfares.

As Ciardis and Terris walked along one of the footpaths, they took the time to look over the edge as they carefully held on to the vine barriers that prevented accidental falls. They were more than twenty feet off the ground, and they were currently on one of the lowest levels. As they wandered Ciardis told Terris of yesterday’s adventures and the victims they’d seen on the forest floor.

As they neared a rounded hut, Terris began to feel unwell. Eventually her head began to hurt so much that she clutched it in pain. “What it is?” asked Ciardis in alarm.

“I don’t know,” Terris said, wincing over the pain.

“Perhaps we should go to the healer,”

“I think perhaps you’re right, but—”

And then the pain intensified. Terris fell to her knees and folded her head down. Nothing was helping. Closing her eyes, she wished fervently for this to end. Deciding that she needed help, she clutched Ciardis’s hand and tried to mind-call for Vana’s aid. But something interfered. As soon as she open her mind to the mental connection, another voice entered.

“
Who? Who?”
questioned the voice in a weird manner.

“
Who are you?”
responded Terris.

Ciardis could hear the exchange, as well, as Terris had opened her mind and magic to her friend with her touch.

“
I am Flightfeather. Flightfeather needs help. Come, come
,” the voice commanded. It pressed an image into their heads. An image of the home in front of them. The voice was urging them to walk inside.

Ciardis looked at Terris, and Terris at Ciardis.

“My headache is gone,” whispered Terris.

Ciardis raised an eyebrow at her. “Then let’s see what it wants.”

“It?”

“Did it sound human to you?”

Terris grimaced and stood. “We’re going in and out quickly. No lingering.”

To the door she called out, “And no funny stuff! We’ve got knives.”

“We do?” whispered Ciardis.

“The healers took mine,” admitted Terris.

When they walked into the home, they saw it was a single large room. Next to the far wall stood a perch with a large gray owl resting on it. Next to its perch was a large bed with thin curtains. The owl flapped its huge wings in warning when they entered and tilted its head.

They heard the same voice in their head when they looked at it. “
Who? Who?”

Deciding it couldn’t hurt to humor the thing, Ciardis pointed to herself and said her name, then pointed to Terris and did the same.

And then the light in the room shifted and curtains moved with the wind. There was a young man in the bed. As they moved closer, Ciardis could see slashes on the man’s neck. The same ones seen on the stricken that she spoken to the day before. But this was man was comatose, not dead.

“
Help him, help him,”
demanded the owl.

“Help him?”
queried Terris.

“How?”
asked Ciardis.

“
Listen for his heart in the shadows, his heart in the shadows, his pulse through their darkness, his pulse through their darkness,”
said the owl.

For a long moment Terris stared directly at the owl. Ciardis got the feeling that she was speaking to it on a different level. Then she reached down to grab the young man’s hand.

A loud
crash
sounded behind them and they turned to see glass shattered on the floor. A woman with a long braid down her back and age lines on her face stood in the open doorway with glass scattered at her feet.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she shrieked.

The owl screamed and flew at the door. Unfortunately Ciardis and Terris were in front of the door, and they rushed out, nearly knocking the woman over as they hurried to get out of the angry owl’s way. Once they were all outside, it circled in the air once and swooped right back into the home.

“I’ll ask you again,” the woman said, her face pale, “What were you doing in that home?”

Ciardis and Terris rushed to explain to her that the owl had invited them in. She listened to their tale and didn’t interrupt.

Finally, she said, “That owl has not let anyone else besides me near my son for the past five months. It hasn’t spoken to anyone, either. And yet you were there.”

Suddenly they heard a commotion from inside. Rushing in, they saw that the boy’s body on the bed had begun to shake. It began with tremors in his hands and spread throughout his body. He curled in upon himself, his head buried in his hands and screams erupting from his mouth. Ciardis and Terris backed up with their hands over their mouths and eyes wide in fear.

The woman didn’t hesitate. She rushed over to the bed and grabbed her son from behind. Soothing him, she pulled his head back as he relaxed. Mopping his brow with a cloth from the bedside and patting his head, she said through sobs, “Barren, my Barren. It’s all right. You’re safe. Come back to us.”

Soon he was limp again, as if he’d never moved. His mother rearranged him back in his bed and pulled the covers over his chest.

Clutching the cloth to her chest, she said, “Our best healers aren’t able to help my son.”

“Are either of you a healer?” she said with hope in her voice.

“No, ma’am,” answered Terris softly. “We just heard the voice—the owl calling out to us in our heads.”

As if on demand, the owl mind-spoke again.
Let them come. Let them come.

The woman started and put her hand to her throat in surprise. She looked from perch where the owl roosted to the two girls standing before her.

“There is nothing that hasn’t been tried to revive my son. I am grateful that he is still alive, but I want my son back,” she said, her tone wavering into pleading. “The bond owls of Panen are sacred to my people. They know things when their human bond mates don’t. If Flightfeather thinks you can help, then please can you at least try?”

Ciardis and Terris looked at each other uncertainly. They weren’t healers and couldn’t do anything for the young man trapped inside his own mind.

Ciardis said, “We would try if we knew
what
to do but we don’t. Perhaps it would be best to call a healer from below.”

“You don’t think that every healer in this community hasn’t tried to help my son?”

A bitterness entered the mother’s voice as she wiped her son’s brow, “They’ve all tried. They’ve all failed. All I’m asking is for you to give your best. The bond owls are often wise to many things we don’t know.”

Gulping Ciardis and Terris walked forward to the bed.

Returning to his side, they saw that his eyes were closed and his arms lay by his side on top of the blanket. He was still and pale, with wisps of hair coming down over his forehead. Someone had recently trimmed the sides and back, though.
Perhaps his mother
, thought Ciardis. She stood behind them solemnly, her hands folded in front of her, watching their every move.

Terris reached out to touch him, but her hand fell short of his face to grab a hand at his side. Hoping to give the mother some comfort, she asked, “What is his name?”

“Barren,” the woman tearfully replied.

Terris loosened her grip on his hand, preparing to let go. But she felt something in his touch. A whisper of magic. A whisper of his mind. But it felt like it was cloaked, hidden by another presence—a dark mind.

“
Yes, yes,”
said Flightfeather. “
Bring him out. Bring him out.”

He was there; Terris could feel his presence. But he was locked away, far away. Unconsciously, she reached out her left hand for Ciardis’s right.

I need you
, Terris said mentally.

I’m here
, responded Ciardis.

And then they fell. They fell into a spiral of magic and power, searching for the boy named Barren.

As they reached his core, they felt a wall. But it was like no wall either girl had ever seen. It moved and twisted with a litheness that spoke of darkness. It was as black as ink, and, as they pushed on it, flexible. “
It’s like it was built of shadows
,” Terris whispered. It was strong but flexible, and yet it also had a quality that made it feel like vapor. 

“
He’s behind it
,” Ciardis said. “
But it’s like a barrier—similar to one that Alexandra put up when we were riding together.  It’s preventing his magic from releasing and those seeking his presence and his magic from finding him.
”

Pushing against the barrier was no use. So Terris felt for cracks.

There must be a way in here
, Terris thought with frustration.
I wouldn’t feel his presence otherwise. A tiny crack, a tiny slip in the barrier.

She forced herself to calm down and methodically search the moving shadows for a crack in the seams. For a long time there was nothing but silence in the room as the two girls dove deep. And then a loud shout of glee echoed throughout the room in excitement. They had found the crack.

Wedging her essence into the small crevice, Terris widened it. She knew instinctively that she had to break it. Gathering her magic and Ciardis’s enhancement, she pushed and pushed until she felt like she was exploding. And then the barrier dissipated and his power and his presence rushed out. Terris and Ciardis were thrown back into their bodies forcefully, and they fell back onto the ground in disarray.

When they arose again, both sported fierce headaches and identical expressions of confusion.

Before them on the bed, Barren had sat up and he looked no less confused they did. His mother let out a cry of joy and raced to her son’s beside to gather him in a hug.

Seconds later Barren’s mother dissolved into the tears.

Flightfeathers sent his thoughts to Terris and Ciardis.
Good, good. Thank you. Thank you. Barren, my Barren, is back!

“Yes,” said the mother, simultaneously crying and hugging her son. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

From that moment on there was no peace. People, neighbors, friends, family, and healers poured into the tiny home, all eager to see Barren and hear the story from Terris and Ciardis. They explained over and over what they had done, but they couldn’t explain how they had done it.

T
he next morning Ciardis and Terris were surrounded again by well-wishers and curious mages. It wasn’t until Alexandra’s grandfather chided everyone for overwhelming the three young people that they pulled back at all. Barren’s mother, Olivia, with a glare on her face and her hands on her hips, managed to get rid of the rest of the stragglers.

After everyone dispersed, Julius wandered up to the group.

“Grandfather?” he asked as he approached.

As the Panen patriarch, Meres, Vana, and the two young women turned to greet him, they quieted at the tired look in his eyes. “There’s been trouble,” he said curtly. “On the southern border of the forest I’ve had reports of a pillar of smoke coming from the town of Borden.”

“The human village closest to the forest?” asked Meres. Ciardis caught his expression. He did not look happy; dark thoughts were running through his head.