Crucible (9 page)

Kade smiled.
:It's all right.:

They came to the crest of the ridge to find a sheer cliff that fell into a valley. The stream at the bottom smelled cool and fresh. Birdcalls echoed in the forest around them. Nwah smelled spoor and wild wort and moss and the acidic tinge of an ant-eaten tree stump.

She opened her link so Kade could enjoy the details of her perceptions.

He smiled again.

:I envy you, Nwah. I wish I could live as you live:

:You do realize that you cured me in Pelten's hut, don't you?:
she asked.

:Don't be dense. I did no such thing.:

:But you did, Kade. I was out of control. I was hurt. And by your voice and touch alone, you saved me. You cured my rage.:

He was silent for a moment, contemplating.

She reached out to the power of the forest around her and for the first time used it to open herself even further. It was scary to do it, daunting to roll on her back and expose so much of herself, even to Kade. But this
was
Kade, and she knew now exactly how far she would go for him. Magic pooled inside her, and she pulled out the part of herself that was that rage for Kade to feel once more, and then she put it back.

:I need you,:
Nwah said.
:You cure me of that.:

Kade breathed deeply, and ran his hand over the top of Nwah's head.

His touch felt good.

:What if I lose that ability?:
he asked.
:What if I can't cure you again?:

:You'll never lose it.:

:How can you say that? How do you know I'll always be able to help you?:

Nwah looked over the valley that spread below. It was a good question. How did she
know
Kade would always be there? How did she know that Kade would always be able to touch her? To always be able to make her who she was?

A pair of hawks soared through the air, hunting together, calling to each other as they rose on the warm drafts of the midday heat.

:How do you know,:
she finally replied,
:that I will always be able to help you?:

This time Kade's smile was a smile of relief, that smile that blooms only when one finally understands the unfathomable.

Hers was a good answer, she knew.

It was the only one that made sense.

“I am
so
glad to be home again,” Lena said as she entered the kennels at the Temple of Thenoth to help feed the dogs.

Maia set down the bowls she was carrying and smiled. “Did you miss your charm of finches?”

“Yes, of course I missed them.” Lena had come to live at the temple several years ago with five pet rainbow finches, properly called a “charm” of finches. “It was more the dead body, though—”

“
Another
one?” Maia asked. “This is the second year in a row! The king is going to stop sending you on these visits if this keeps up.”

“I wish he would,” Lena said wearily. “He's trying to make sure I meet as many of the highborn as possible; he wants me to make a good match.”

“Well, you
are
his ward,” Maia pointed out, “so he will have to approve your marriage. But I really think he wants you to be happy. Perhaps he wants you to meet a lot of people so you'll find someone you
want
to marry.”

“I don't want to marry
anyone
yet.” Lena started filling more bowls with dog food. “It's not as if I'm anywhere close to being an old maid.” She sighed. “I wish I could take full vows and stay here.”

“I don't think the Prior would allow that,” Maia
laughed, “and I'm afraid the Brethren would find having a sister disconcerting. Perpetual novice vows are the most we can take, and they don't forbid us to marry.”

“And even if they changed the Order's rules to allow it, the King wouldn't approve. I'm the last of my family, and if I die without issue, the entire estate escheats to the Crown. The King has to encourage me to marry—and do so publicly—or a lot of highborn idiots will think he's keeping me single to get my property.”

“Politics,” Maia said with disgust.

• • •

Unfortunately, politics played a major role in their next assignment, though neither girl realized it at first. It started when the Prior sent them to a house in the wealthy circle of Haven.

“The lady wants help setting up a fishpond in her garden,” he explained, “and while I don't think the job really needs Animal Mindspeech, she asked for Lena specifically, and she is making a
very
generous donation to the Temple—enough to pay for food for all our animals well into next Spring.”

“That explains why
I'm
going,” Lena said, “but why does the job need both of us?”

“Maia is going along because you are no longer ten years old, Lena. You need a chaperone now. The King continues to allow you to live with us, but he is requiring that certain proprieties be observed.” He frowned. “I understand that there is a son there about your age; stay with Maia at all times, and do not be alone with him—or with any man.”

“Yes, Prior.” Lena nodded. “I've no desire to marry at all now, and I
never
want to be forced into marriage.”

• • •

Mistress Efanya was a widow, and her son Sven-August, who was
approximately
Lena's age—thirteen to her fifteen years—was her only child. It quickly became
apparent that she had ambitions for him, although Lena doubted he shared them.

“The fish are just an excuse,” Maia said after they had retired to the room they insisted on sharing the first night—after Lena had explained firmly that Maia was her fellow novice and
not
her maid. While their hostess obviously did not consider Maia an equal to her and her son—let alone to Lena, who was highborn—she didn't want to offend Lena, no matter how regrettably democratic she thought her attitudes were. “What she wants is a highborn bride for her son.”

“I did notice that,” Lena agreed. “So we stay together, no matter what, until I can find some way to convince her that I am not the bride she seeks.”

Maia stared at her. “You're highborn, intelligent, pretty, and rich. What's going to convince her that you're
not
a good wife for her son?”

“I'll think of something.”

• • •

When Lena woke early the next morning, she had the glimmering of an idea.

“Maia, did you ever hear the story of the princess living in the woods who had friendly animals to help her with everything?”

Maia blinked. “I think I
lived
that one.”

“Would Dexter being willing to act as a lady's maid? He can brush hair, can't he?”

Dexter was a raccoon who had come to Haven with Maia, so it seemed only polite to ask Maia before appropriating the services of one of her best friends. After a minute of mentally communing with him, Maia grinned. “He asks how soon you want him.”

“How fast can he get here?”

• • •

It turned out that Mistress Efanya had assigned her own maid to attend Lena. When the girl entered, immediately following her quick tap on the door, and discovered an
animal brushing Lena's hair, she fled, screaming loudly as she ran.

Both girls started giggling. “Not that I wish the poor girl any ill—” Maia said.

“—but it's funny to think of anyone's being scared of Dexter,” Lena finished. Dexter, sitting calmly on a stool behind her, continued brushing her hair. He was still at it when the investigating party arrived: the housekeeper, the butler, two footmen, and Mistress Efanya, wearing a robe thrown hastily over her nightshift.

“Lady Magdalena!” Mistress Efanya was obviously deeply shocked, as well as being the only one who could scold Lena—or at least try to.

“Good morning, Mistress Efanya,” Lena said cheerfully. Dexter split her hair neatly into thirds and began to make one long braid down her back.

“What is that?” the housekeeper muttered, not sufficiently under her breath.

“Dexter is a raccoon,” Lena explained. “Maia can tell you more about him; she's lived with him for years. He's called Dexter because he's very dexterous; look at his hands.”

Oddly enough, nobody had come farther than the doorway, and all of them seemed well able to resist Lena's suggestion. “When you mistook Maia for my maid yesterday,” Lena continued, “Dexter volunteered to come take care of my hair. As you can see,” she added as Dexter finished the braid and tied it off with a thin strip of leather, “my hair doesn't need much work, and he's perfectly able to handle it.”

“It's—It's a wild animal,” Mistress Efanya protested, “and who knows where its hands were before it touched your hair!”

“The pool in your garden, actually,” Maia said. “Raccoons are very clean animals; did you know that they wash everything they eat before eating it?”

“My fish!” Mistress Efanya screamed.

“Oh, no, of course not,” Lena reassured her. “Dexter knows
much
better than to eat any animal we're working with.”

Breakfast was a bit late that morning, and the conversation was forced and stilted—at least on the part of their hostess—even though the girls had left Dexter in the garden rather than insisting he share their meal. Sven-August ate silently and kept his eyes on his plate; apparently he found his mother rather overpowering.

“I do hope you brought some more suitable clothing with you, Lady Magdalena,” Mistress Efanya remarked as they were finishing the meal. “I have invited some of my neighbors to dinner tonight to meet you.”

Lena and Maia exchanged looks. “Well, we do have clean habits,” Lena said. “But we were told that we were coming here to work, so we didn't bring fancy clothes. However,” she added, “I do have a charm of pet finches, and they're very colorful. I can ask them to be decorations and background music!”

Mistress Efanya smiled weakly. “Birds. . . . Well, I'm sure they'll be lovely.”

Her hasty departure from the room got a snicker from Sven-August. “She just doesn't want to admit that she hates birds. Fish are much more to her liking; they can't get out of the water or make any noise to bother her.”

• • •

Whatever Mistress Efanya's feelings, she put on a good face for the party and graciously accepted compliments on the originality of her decorating scheme. Unfortunately, she had retired for the night before the girls called in a small flood of rats to take care of crumb removal from the floors of the rooms where the party had been held—and while the servants did flee the area, apparently none chose to mention the extra help to their mistress, much to Lena's disappointment.

Sven-August, however, despite having been sent to bed earlier, got up when he heard all the squeaking—most of
which was coming from the servants. “Why are there
rats
here?”

“Crumb removal,” Maia explained as the last of the rodents scurried out. Meanwhile, Lena, only slightly hampered by rainbow finches on her shoulders and both arms, was opening a covered pail of birdseed.

“Do you want to help hand out their treats?” she asked Sven-August.

He smiled shyly. “Yes, please.” Following Lena's example, he took a handful of seeds and held them in a flat palm. One of the birds landed on his wrist and reached forward to nibble the seeds. Sven-August giggled. “That tickles!” He looked at Lena. “How did you make them stay in place during the party?” he asked.

Lena laughed. “I can't
make
them do anything. All I can do is ask nicely and promise treats afterward. Shameless bribery is one of our best training techniques.”

• • •

The next morning, Lena saw Sven-August take a portion of the seeds and slip away toward the back of the garden. Quickly asking a nearby crow to fetch Maia, Lena followed, careful to keep far enough away that he wouldn't hear her.

By the time Maia joined her, Sven-August was in the farthest corner, crooning soothingly to something. The girls moved in behind him to see that he was trying to persuade an injured bird to eat the seeds.

“Good morning,” Lena said quietly. Sven-August jumped and dropped most of the seeds.

“Don't sneak up on us like that!” he snapped. “You're scaring him!”

Lena made mental contact with the bird and sighed. “He's not half as frightened as you are. Of course, he's very sick, which probably accounts for it.” She looked at the wing, inexpertly tied to a mesh of twigs. “Were you the one who tried to set that wing?”

Sven-August scowled. “I suppose you could do better?”

“Any trainee at Thenoth's temple could do better,” Lena replied. Maia was already unfastening the makeshift splint and examining the wing, shaking her head as she did so. “Is there some reason you didn't take him to the Temple?” Lena added.

“My mother would have killed him,” Sven-August said miserably. “She hates him—she's the one who threw her hairbrush at him and hurt him in the first place. I had to wait until she stormed off and then hunt through the bushes to find him, and then all I had time to do was hide him and hope for the best. I've been sneaking out with food for him, but I can't get him to eat. I thought if your birds liked the seeds. . . .”

Maia shook her head. “I'm afraid by now he needs someone with an actual Healing Gift. I've asked the crows to find someone. In the meantime, we might be able to get some water into him. Lena?”

Lena shrugged. “He's feeling thirsty, so it's worth a try. We can give it to him a drop at a time until the Healer gets here. But we'd better get a box for him and keep him with us. Remember, we're supposed to be working on the fishpond.”

“Right.” Maia sighed. “Get the colored fish to swim in pretty patterns. Really, aren't fish colorful and interesting enough swimming in their normal manner?”

“I don't think Mistress Efanya is all that fond of nature.”

“You're right about
that
,” Sven-August said grimly. “It's just that having pretty animals is
fashionable
.”

Lena scowled. “I hate fashions that put living things in the care of people who don't know anything about them.”

• • •

In its own very peculiar way, getting the fish to swim in patterns according to their colors was challenging, even using Animal Mindspeech.

“For one thing,” Lena sighed, massaging her aching temples, “they don't have much mind to speak to.”

“True,” Maia agreed. “My turn now, Lena. Close your eyes and try to rest your mind—it's your best chance of getting rid of that headache.”

“Is Animal Mindspeech difficult?” Sven-August asked. He was sitting next to them with the injured bird. Lena had shown him how to give water to a bird that couldn't swallow, and now he alternated between dipping his finger into the bowl of water beside him and touching it to the bird's beak. Even closed, the beak worked as a wick to get water into the bird's body.

“Yes and no,” Lena said. “You have to be born with the Gift. After that it's a matter of training and how well you and the animal can ‘hear' each other. Sometimes it's easy, and sometimes it's well nigh impossible. But you don't have to have Animal Mindspeech to take care of animals. Maia and I are the only novices currently at the Temple who have the gift, but we're not always the best ones to handle a particular animal.”

“Good thing, too,” Maia muttered, “or we'd be run ragged.”

“For example,” Lena continued, “you're doing very well with that bird. You have a delicate touch and good coordination, and in this case that's much more important than being able to speak to a bird who is so sick he could barely hear you anyway.”

“He bit my finger when I first picked him up,” Sven-August said.

“Oh, they do that a lot,” Lena said. “It's practically the first rule of bird behavior. They usually don't mean anything by it.”

“What's the second rule?” Sven-August asked curiously.

“If it's shiny, it's a bird toy,” Lena said promptly. “Actually, I think that's the first rule for crows.”