[Lanen Kaelar 03] - Redeeming the Lost (7 page)

I gazed now more closely at the two Gedri who
stood with Varien. Young as he looked, they looked younger still. Mere
children.

Until you saw their eyes.

The girl-child, Aral, had about her a kindly
air, and a strange familiarity that I could not explain, but that spoke well of
her—indeed, something about her altogether spoke of the Kantri and it Inclined
me to favour her, but it was the youth beside her who shook me from my
complacency. For all his lack of years, for all that I knew so little of Gedri
faces, when our gazes locked he seemed for an instant to vie with me. Perhaps he
sought to test me in some way, as younglings do on occasion, but for that brief
moment he was unguarded, and I drew back. In that instant I had seen a raging
torment behind his eyes, as of a searing flame, and a deep sense of power that
surprised me. I sniffed, but there was not the least Raksha-trace upon him.
This one would need to be watched, though not by me. A thought arose in my
deepest heart. Let his enemies beware.

“You shame me, Mistress Aral,” said Shikrar. “Your
pardon. I urn not yet accustomed to the swiftness of your kind. Mistress Aral,
Master Vilkas, this is the Lady Idai, known among us for her wisdom. Idai,
these two have taught me not to judge by appearances, for they are great
Healers in this land.”

“Healing is a most noble use of power,” I
said, gazing full at Vilkas. “I confess to astonishment, however, Master
Vilkas, that you two are so at your ease among us.”

“We’ve had practice,” said Aral, while Vilkas
returned my regard. “We chanced upon Lanen and the rest of them—Lady, was it
only a week gone? We were escaping from Berys and his damned Rikti, and when we
stopped for food and shelter there they all were, and she in dreadful need of
healing.” Aral bared her teeth. “We’ve barely stopped for breath since, but we
were there when the Lesser Kindred were awakened.” She stood taller. “We helped
heal their soulgems.”

I listened to her, but I did not look away
from Vilkas. “There is a great work behind your eyes, Healer,” I said. “It is
not unseemly to take a just pride in accomplishment. And unless I am deeply
mistaken, it has to do with Varien’s beloved.”

“How the Hells did you know that?” he asked,
but his gaze did not waver either.

I hissed gently. “I am She who Knows without
Knowing, lit-tling. That is the meaning of part of my name.”

He drew himself up, the very image of the
Attitude of Pride if he had had wings. I envied the Gedri their mobile faces,
but found it interesting that they used Attitudes much like ours to convey
emotions. “Lanen was dying,” he said simply. “Her babes are half Kantri, half
Gedri. Her body could not support them, so I changed her blood to match theirs.
She is altogether changed now, for you cannot change only the blood. The rest
has to match.”

I dropped my jaw in astonishment and heard
Shikrar draw in his breath sharply. “Do you tell me that Lanen is also half
Kantri now?” I breathed. “Surely that is not possible!”

“It is done,” said Vilkas. “Whether I should
have done it or no, I have.” One corner of his mouth turned up. “At least now
they’ll match.”

“Name of the Winds, Varien, you never told me
that!” exclaimed Shikrar. His eyes were wide.

“I—to be honest, my friend, I cannot say it
has been uppermost in my thoughts,” replied Varien. “So much has happened
since, I—”

He broke off, for Shikrar had moved his wings
into the Attitude of Surprise, with a touch of Accusation, and the movement had
caused him pain. I glanced more keenly at Shikrar, for I had finally realised
what it was that had so altered him in so short a time, aside from the taking
of Lanen. “If these Healers are so great as all that, Shikrar, why have they
not healed you?” I replied.

Vilkas—it is hard to explain—he seemed to
sharpen, as if something had broken through the mist he kept about himself. “We
did not know he was ill or injured. Have I your permission, I .ord Shikrar, to
see if I may learn what is amiss with you?”

“It is nothing,” said Shikrar swiftly, “I am
well enough, I…”

“His right wing is damaged, in the first
joint, and the wound he received in his left shoulder last autumn has not had the
time to heal as it should,” I said, annoyed. “Don’t be a fool, Shikrar. Perhaps
they can help.”

“In all the long ages when our people dwelt
together, even the strongest Gedri Healers could do very little for the Kantri,”
replied Shikrar indignantly. I judged that was better than dwelling on pain.

“Ah, but we have done better since,” said
Aral, her smile broadening. “When Salera’s people were—becoming themselves, we
healed every one of them. Mind you, there wasn’t much to do, but it did work.”
She gazed up fearlessly into Shikrar’s eyes. “May we have your permission to
help? Or would you rather be brave and in pain a bit longer?”

Shikrar threw his head back and a flicker of
flame shot skyward. All of the Gedri but Varien stepped back, shocked. Well,
perhaps they had never seen a real laugh before.

“Come, then, heal me an ye may,” he said, his
eyes dancing. “Name of the Winds, these Gedri have no fear!”

“Say no sense, rather, and you’ll be closer,”
said Aral, who had moved some distance away from Shikrar. “What was that all
about?”

Varien smiled, banishing just for an instant
the deep well of sorrow behind his eyes. “It was a laugh, Aral, no more. Lanen”—ah,
and it was back—“I surprised Lanen so, the first time. It is nothing to fear.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I think I’m safe enough in
fearing that,” said Vilkas dryly. “You may not burn readily, Varien, but I do.”
Turning to Shikrar, he continued. “If you would be so kind as not to be amused
while we treat you, Master Shikrar, I would be greatly obliged.”

His eyes gleamed, but Shikrar answered, “You
have my word, Master Vilkas.”

“Do you want any help, Vil?” asked Aral.

“Yes, come on, we both need to learn this,”
replied Vilkas, already distracted.

It was fascinating to watch him. He who had
been all shifting mist, hidden even from himself as he strove to hide his inner
self from others, became all in a moment a soul sharp and gleaming, edged and
poised for use like a sword. It was extraordinary to behold. “It’s all new to
me too, the more eyes here the better.”

“I will leave you to their tender mercies, my
friend,” said Varien, and the ghost of a smile flitted across his face. “I
expect to find you vastly improved when I return.” He bowed and wandered off to
speak with Rella and they were soon deep in talk.

Vilkas and Aral began what looked like a swift
set of ritual passes through the air. A gentle blue light surrounded them both,
until they joined hands. The gentleness was still there, but the light was much
stronger.

Vilkas

Aral and I sent our power towards Shikrar. It
would be the largest of them we’d begin on, I thought. Why start by halves? I
had no idea what we might find. Human anatomy we had learned. Dragon anatomy
was a complete mystery.

Until now.

I was pleased to learn that injury was injury
no matter what the vessel. Dragon blood and bone were not the same as in humans,
but for all that they were still blood and bone. The wing joint was badly
inflamed, and the shoulder was still badly damaged for all that I could see it
had been worse. With Aral’s help, I had a long look at Shikrar’s healthy
shoulder, and then we got permission from Idai to examine her, to be certain of
what healthy tissue looked like.

“Remember, Vil,” said Aral, as with the Healer’s
deep sight we gazed into the tissues of unwounded Idai, “all of these creatures
are completely exhausted. You can see it in Shikrar, but at least he’s had a
few days’ rest. This lady and all the rest of them have just pushed themselves
to the very limit to survive—look at the buildup of the waste products in the muscles.
At least”—and her voice faltered slightly—“it looks like something that shouldn’t
be there. Drat.” She sighed. “I’m not sure we could find a normal example
anywhere just at the moment.”

“Mmmm, that’s the problem, of course. I’m with
you, that particulate in the muscle looks like fatigue poison of some kind. It’s
clear enough, in any case.”

“Yes. The wing muscles are the worst, of
course. I’d guess the leg muscles are probably the nearest to their normal
state—not the ones that have been holding the legs close to the body, the other
ones, between the two farthest joints.”

I started to move, without thinking, and a
wing appeared before me. The muscles at the edge are not so badly affected, I
thought stupidly, before I looked up, blinking away my Healer’s sight. Idai’s
face was before me, and I glimpsed the covering of amazingly tough hide and the
blood vessels beneath, stretched over the heavy bone of the mask, before my
normal sight returned.

“Are you always so heedless of those whom you
heal?” she said, and I was briefly surprised by the fact that I could hear the
annoyance in a dragon’s voice as clearly as I would in anyone.

‘Tour pardon, Lady,” I said, nodding to her. “I—when
we are so deep in the Healer’s sight, it is difficult to remember that there is
a person—and with you, there is so much to learn—”

Aral appeared by my side and interrupted. “Lady
Idai, please
forgive my colleague. He
concentrates harder than any three people I know. I’ve seen him get so immersed
in what he’s doing he forgets to eat for days on end. And yes, he gets a bit
heedless of his patients, but that’s what he needs me for.” She jabbed her
elbow, surprisingly subtly, into my ribs. “May we have your permission to
examine your—er—back legs?”

Idai obligingly extended a leg, glancing
keenly at Aral. “I see. I have known others so lose themselves in their work.
Somehow it does not surprise me that males of both our Kindreds have this in
common,” she said. Aral grinned up at her before getting back to work.

It was clear in a moment when we saw the
healthy muscle—we had to look deep, but there is something unmistakable about
bodies that are working as they should. The deep tissue of the unused muscles
still had that silver glow of health about it, though the bloodstream was
carrying the fatigue poisons throughout the body.

“Well, Vil, I can see what needs done,” said
Aral shortly. “You?”

“Yes. It looks easy enough.”

I felt another jab of Aral’s elbow, but I’m
not stupid. I was just about to speak in any case.

“Our thanks, Lady. With your assistance, I
think we can help Shikrar.”

Idai dipped her head and a sinuous wave
followed down her long neck. Very odd indeed, but she seemed happy enough.

Aral is right. I do tend to lose track of the
social graces when I’m working.

We moved back to Shikrar’s side. “We’ll do it
as usual, eh?” I said. “You compress and provide the pain relief, I’ll shift
the inflammation.”

I looked up at the vast form now above me.
Truly, things could be easier.

“My lord Shikrar,” I said, not knowing if they
used such titles. Better than nothing. “Will it please you to come closer?”

His head was suddenly very, very close to mine
and I couldn’t help but flinch. Goddess, he was huge. “Have you any hope,
truly, of healing me?”

I almost laughed. Honestly. Everyone always thought
they were different. The Lady’s power heals all, my lord, rich and poor alike.
I cannot think why it should not heal you.”

“But we do not worship the Lady of the Gedri,”
he said.

“Maybe you should start,” said Aral, grinning.
“Have we your permission to try, Shikrar?”

He lay right down then, putting his wing
gingerly upon the ground. It was still going to be hard to reach that affected
shoulder, but—first things first.

“You may try, Aralishaan,” he said kindly.

We moved together to the wing joint, getting
it clear before our eyes, seeing exactly what needed to be done. We joined
hands and sent our power forth.

At least, we tried to. I felt Vil increase his
own strength until he glowed even in broad daylight, but it wasn’t going
anywhere. Our power went no farther than the ends of our fingers.

Shikrar, watching closely, closed his eyes. “Alas.
I feared it might be so. In all our history, there have been few of the Gedri
who could help us to heal.” He sighed. “Perhaps it was too much to hope that the
two of you might have been among them.”

“Don’t move!” I yelled angrily to Shikrar. “Don’t
give up yet, Vil! We healed Salera’s people, I know we can—wait—wait, of
course!”

I had felt a slight burning for the last few
minutes, where the pouch around my neck touched my chest, and it had finally
occurred to me that when we had healed Salera and her kin, I had held the gem
in my hand. Perhaps that would do it.

I let go Vil’s left hand and fumbled with the
pouch and finally managed to get out the large gem. I held it tight in my hand.

I wish someone had told me. That kind of thing
shouldn’t happen to the unprepared.