The Healing Wars: Book II: Blue Fire
Read The Healing Wars: Book II: Blue Fire Online
Authors: Janice Hardy
Blue Fire
Janice Hardy
For Kristin and Donna, because they said yes.
Responsibility was overrated. Sure, it sounded good—take control of your…
I didn’t know whether to scream or shiver.
The alley market wasn’t one of my favorite places, and…
I gasped and spun. The tracker had a pynvium rod…
They wanted the bounty. Wanted it so much they’d kidnapped…
The trunk opened again, maybe two days later, but I…
Saints and sinners, a healer-soldier in pynvium armor! This is…
All my instincts said move, run, shift, anything, but the…
I wiggled and kicked, trying to hit a shin or…
Everyone but Jeatar froze. He dashed along the cells fast…
Underground?
No Takers anywhere? “I don’t believe you. You’re just—”
All eyes turned toward me. Onderaan’s narrowed. “You’re a Healer?”
“You want to raid the foundry?” Jeatar said an hour…
I hunched over my plate, face turned down and away.
Siekte and her leeches were waiting for us in the…
“Nya, it’s been two days,” Aylin said, standing over my…
The neighborhood with the boardinghouses was quiet and dark, with…
“Aylin!”
Panicked faces turned to me.
More bells broke the quiet as we raced for the…
“No,” I said. “My father wasn’t Baseeri.” I wasn’t Baseeri.
Breaths quickened all around me, echoing in the dark cellar.
“What about the others?” one of her men asked.
The soldier holding me lost his grip and staggered forward.
Pain shifted to fire, fire shifted to ice, ice shifted…
I staggered toward the open door, dented and broken but…
I’d never forgive them for this.
R
esponsibility was overrated. Sure, it sounded good—take control of your own life, make your own choices—but that also meant you had to pay for your own mistakes. And if your life and choices hadn’t gone the way you’d planned, well, then your mistakes might reach deeper than your pockets could afford.
I hoped mine were deep enough for the mess I’d caused.
I watered the lake violets in the front sunroom. Just busy work, but I had to do
something
other than sit in the town house worrying while my friends were out risking their lives. I should have been out there with them, but I’d been recognized on our
last rescue mission, and it wasn’t safe outside for me anymore. Not that Geveg had been all that safe in the five years since the Baseeri invaded; but being hunted by the Duke, his soldiers, Geveg’s Governor-General, and who knew how many trackers added a whole new level of danger.
“Is Aylin back yet?” asked Tali, lurking in the doorway. Some girls hovered behind her, a few Takers we’d rescued last week but hadn’t managed to smuggle off the isles yet.
“No,” I said, “she’s still out looking.” So was Danello, but Tali always worried more about Aylin, which was silly. Aylin could take care of herself—Danello was the one with the street smarts of a hen.
“Is it bad that it’s taking so long?”
I hesitated. “I don’t know. It depends if the recruiters are snatching people off the street again.”
The Takers behind Tali paled and backed away. None had been grabbed by the Healers’ League’s new “recruiters,” but we all knew people who had been: pulled from their homes, dragged to the League, forced to heal—even if it killed us.
It was nine shades of wrong. The League used to invite only Takers with strong healing talents to become apprentices, those who had real futures as Healers. But now? You didn’t have a choice. The
Duke demanded that any Taker with even a trace of healing ability had to serve at the League. The lucky ones were trained. The unlucky—they wound up in a small, windowless room somewhere, being experimented on.
The Duke of Baseer had his war to win, whatever the cost to us.
“I’m sure they’re fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”
I glanced at the Takers behind Tali, slipping away one by one to go cower in their rooms. It shouldn’t be this way. The Healers’ League was supposed to train Takers to heal and help. Becoming a Healer used to be something every Taker dreamed of, like Tali had. Like I had.
Now it was just a nightmare.
Tali hadn’t moved, and she had that little-sister-stubbornness look about her again. “Should we go look for her?”
If only I could. They
had
been gone an awfully long time. “You know we can’t leave the town house.”
“
You
can’t, but I can.”
“You can’t either. It was hard enough rescuing you from the League once. I’m not letting them get you again.”
She pouted, her brow wrinkling the way it always
did when she was trying to decide if it was worth an argument or not.
“You can help Soek with lunch,” I offered. “You know how much he needs it.”
“He’s making that fish stew again,” she said. “Took me three days to get the smell out of my hair last time.”
“Maybe you can—”
“Nya, I can help with the Takers, you know I can.” She stared at me, defiance in her brown eyes, and tucked a curl behind an ear. She’d dyed her blond hair red, like Aylin’s used to be, and it had put some fire into her as well.
“It’s just too dangerous right now,” I said, more gently this time. “Can you please check on the others and make sure they’re okay? You know how scared they are. I’m fine here, really.”
Tali didn’t say anything, but the defiance was gone, replaced by concern. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Really? Because you don’t seem fine.”
“That’s ’cause someone keeps pestering me while I’m planning how to smuggle people off Geveg.” I meant it as a tease, but Tali folded her arms and frowned.
“You’re not planning—you’re watering lake
violets and looking miserable.”
“I can do both.” I grinned, but she clearly wasn’t buying it.
“Nya, you don’t
have
to be miserable.”
My grin vanished. I’d earned my misery, but I’d paid the price for Tali’s life willingly, a life for a life. It
shouldn’t
be easy to toss that guilt overboard. Besides, everything here in Zertanik’s town house was a constant reminder of what I’d done, who I’d killed. It didn’t matter that he didn’t need it anymore, or that it made the perfect hiding place. There was some justice to selling off his stolen loot to help the very Takers he’d tried to hurt, but not enough to make it right.
I set down the watering can and sighed.
Tali came over and rested her head on my shoulder. She used to do the same thing when we were little and Mama had scolded me.
“Well, you’re worrying over nothing,” she said, filling the silence when I didn’t say anything. “Barnikoff will hide them in his boat, same as always.”
“Someone saw me with him the last time. The Governor-General might be watching now.” Which meant there was one more person who might get into trouble because of me. I shoved my hands into my pockets.
Not nearly deep enough.
“They saw you?” she asked, worried now. “Who did? The League?”
“I’m not sure—”
The front door of the town house rattled. I jumped up and hurried into the foyer, my heart pounding.
Please, please, please let them be okay.
Tali followed, for once staying away from the door without me telling her to.
Aylin stepped inside and my chest loosened. A boy about twelve trailed behind her. He was pretty grimy, so he’d probably been hiding for a while. Skinny, too, and his face lit up at the smell of fish stew. My heart clenched again, but then Danello walked in, watching the street a little too cautiously as he shut the door.
“What happened?” I said, not as relived as I should be now that they were back. “I was getting worried.”
“We were just extra careful on the way back,” Aylin said. She glanced at Tali, then looked at me in a way that clearly said she didn’t want to tell me what was wrong in front of Tali. So many things
could
be wrong, I didn’t even want to guess what it was this time. “But we found him.” She nudged the boy forward.
“Winvik,” Tali gasped, running over. He looked equally glad to see her. “I thought you’d left Geveg.”
“I tried, but I couldn’t get a boat to the marsh farms.”
“You know each other?” Aylin said.
Tali nodded. “Winvik was in my apprentice classes at the Healers’ League.”
“And the spire room?” I asked softly.
“Yes.” A flicker of fear crossed her face. So Winvik had also been forced by the League to heal until he’d carried so much pain he couldn’t move. No wonder he’d risked starvation to stay free.
“Welcome, then,” I said, smiling. Neither Aylin nor Danello smiled with me. Saints, it must really be bad then.
Footsteps thumped down the stairs and Takers peeked over the railings at us. We had four other Takers in the town house right now, people we’d saved who wouldn’t be experimented on by the Duke to see if they developed special “abilities” he could use for his own purpose. I hadn’t yet figured out what that purpose was, but that was part of our plan.
Step One: Rescue as many Takers as we could and keep them away from the Duke.
Step Two: Find out what the Duke wanted with them.
Step Three: Stop it.
Of course, steps two and three were turning out to be a lot harder than anticipated, but we were
doing okay so far with step one. And truth be told, that was the one that mattered the most.
Danello cleared his throat.
“Tali,” I said, “why don’t you take Winvik to the kitchen for some of that stew and then show him to a room?”
She frowned for a heartbeat, like she knew I was trying to get rid of her. “Come on—it’s this way.”
Aylin watched them leave, then stepped closer. Danello did the same.
“What happened?” I asked.
“This.” Danello handed me a folded paper.
I unfolded it and my breath caught.
A poster, with
my
face on it and a five-thousand-oppa reward underneath.
Five thousand oppas?
Saints! For that much money I’d turn
myself
in.
T
HE
S
HIFTER
, M
ERLAINA
O
SKOV
, W
ANTED FOR
M
URDER
I bristled. It wasn’t murder. It had been an accident….
Zertanik, rubbing his hands eagerly; the Luminary, watching with untrusting eyes. Both offering me the lives of Tali and the others if I flashed the League’s pynvium Slab, released the pain it held so they could steal it and sell it to those in need.
I took a deep breath. No, that was a lie. It wasn’t an accident. I’d made the choice. Geveg had needed that Slab, the only pynvium left in the whole city. Without it, we wouldn’t have been able to heal anyone. Healers couldn’t deposit their pain in the metal, where it couldn’t hurt them. Zertanik had never cared about that—he’d been eager to take advantage of those who couldn’t afford real healing. The Luminary should have cared, though. He ran Geveg’s Healers’ League, so it was his responsibility to protect our Healers, not use them.
They were terrible men. I shouldn’t feel guilty about killing them.
I pictured red mist on the walls of the Luminary’s office, all that was left of him and Zertanik after the flash, disintegrated by the pain I’d released from the Slab. My guilt remained. I’d
known
it would kill us, and I’d done it anyway, to save Tali and the other apprentices.
I’d just honestly thought it would kill
me
, too.
“At least they don’t know your real name,” Aylin said, but her voice trembled.
Danello nodded and cupped my cheek in his hand. “And you look different now, too.”
Like Tali, I’d cut my blond curls short, but I’d dyed them brown. Aylin had dyed her hair Baseeri black, something I didn’t have the stomach to do.
Danello had kept his blond hair, since fewer people had seen him. They weren’t the best disguises, but not many at the League had gotten a good look at our faces.
At least, not the ones still alive.
“Maybe no one will recognize you,” Aylin said.
“Maybe.” I cursed myself for saying it. I was supposed to be done with maybes. But maybe you were never done with maybes.
“The posters are all over the city,” Aylin said, tossing her hat on a front table of carved wood with onyx inlays. Worth a fortune, perhaps enough to pay the bribes we’d need for passage to the mainland if we ran. Running would be harder now with the reward out there.
“Soldiers are putting them up,” added Danello. “A lot of people aren’t happy about it. We saw one of the shopkeeps tear it down right in front of the soldiers. He called you a hero.”
Hero
and
murderer, all in the same day.
“They nailed the poster up again and he ripped it down again.” Danello shook his head. “You should have seen him.”
“That’s when they beat him up,” Aylin said. “We got out of there fast after that.”
People I didn’t even know were getting hurt defending me. Some hero. No matter what I did, someone suffered.
“You okay?” Danello asked, taking my hand and rubbing his thumb across my knuckles.
“I didn’t expect this.”
“You knew the Duke was looking for you.”
“No, not that. The shopkeep. People sticking up for me.”
Aylin huffed. “You saved the lives of thirty Healers, stopped the Luminary from stealing Geveg’s pynvium, and basically spat in the Duke’s eye. Of
course
they’re going to stick up for you.”
“I’d be happier if they didn’t.” I had more responsibility than pockets already. I’d gotten everyone into this, so I had to protect them. Grannyma used to say, a life saved was a debt owed.
“Well, you’re a hero now, so get used to it.”
Or a murderer, depending on who you asked.
A heavy knock shook the front door.
“Are you expecting anyone?” Danello said in a low voice.
“Soldiers trying to arrest us?” I joked, though it didn’t sound at all funny. Danello motioned me to stay back. I ducked behind a doorway with Aylin while he peeked out the window.
“It’s the rent collector,” he whispered.
My stomach tightened. We’d paid for the whole month just last week.
“Maybe she’ll go away,” I said.
Another hard bang.
“Or maybe not,” said Aylin.
Danello held out both hands. “What should I do?”
More insistent banging. She’d start to draw attention if she kept it up. Soek left the kitchen, a dripping wooden spoon in his hand. He held it like a weapon, and with good cause. He’d been in the spire room with Tali too.
“I know you’re in there,” the rent collector shouted. “Open up and talk to me.”
For the love of Saint Saea, I didn’t need this today.
“Open it,” I said, stepping into the hall.
She didn’t wait to be invited in. Just marched right past Danello and over to me. “Rent’s due.”
“We already paid it.”
“It’s due again. And it’s gone up.”
I folded my arms and tried not to scream my frustration. A handful of jewelry had convinced her Aylin, Tali, and I were Zertanik’s daughters. She’d doubled the rent, probably planning to pocket the extra, but let us stay. She could throw us out if she wanted, and we had nowhere else to go. “How much?”
She grinned and handed me one of the reward posters. “Five thousand oppas.”