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Authors: Alex Albrinck

Preserving Hope (16 page)

BOOK: Preserving Hope
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Her question was one that Will had long wondered about as well. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I just saw a small tree that looked like it could use some help, and Energy was the only thing I could give. I found out by accident. But I suspect it’s simply a case that the act of giving always provides just as much benefit to the giver than the receiver, if not more.”

“Perhaps that’s why so many in our village fail to succeed,” Elizabeth said, her voice quiet. “They seek only to take; if they’d learn to give, they’d have far more than they could imagine.”

Will nodded in agreement.

They spent time working on Shielding — though few would be able to sense any Energy from her right now, there might come a point where she’d make use of the skill — and then he had her try teleportation, warning her that it required large amounts of Energy to complete, and that she might feel quite drained. “That’s good,” she said, a dry smile on her face. “It’s best I look worn down when Father comes to retrieve me.”

To Will’s surprise, she was able to move about ten yards at a time. “That’s excellent!” he said. “You’re progressing very well!”

She beamed, clearly unaccustomed to any type of compliment. He had her spend time recharging again, and then, to their mutual regret, he took her hand and teleported her back into the Schola.

The building felt especially cramped and stuffy after spending so much time outdoors. The candles were burning low, and they took the time to light a new set. The room had been built without windows, which was because it had been built at a time when ten runaway slaves desperately needed shelter from winter weather, and windows would have detracted from that requirement. “Father believes that research should be done in total privacy and free of all distraction,” Elizabeth said. “If there are distractions, you might miss a key point and in so doing risk not finding key ingredients to the formula for unlocking abilities.” She snorted. “That’s what he
tells
people, and they believe it. The reality is that he fears people will figure something out and sneak the core ingredients out without telling him, or, in my case, use a window above the wall to escape to the outside. Father is like that, Will. Never trust what he says; watch what he does. His actions and words rarely communicate the same message.”

Will nodded. “I’ve made that discovery. That’s why he told everyone, all those years ago, that you had volunteered to test everything, wasn’t it? In truth, he was afraid of the pain, or suffering, or sickness, or death that might actually come to him, and so he told everyone you’d volunteered to do it for them.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Nobody seemed to figure out that a six-year-old girl can’t make that type of promise, or actually understand what she’s offering to put herself through. And nobody stopped to ask why, if I was
volunteering
, that they’d have to
pay
Father. He made them believe it, and between the money and promises of loyalty, he became royalty here. He does no other work. He does not farm, or forage for wood and berries, or make things of wood or metal, or cook food for anyone. He simply makes certain that everyone mistrusts each other, and as such the only true friend they have is him, and collects his pieces of silver every day.”

Will nodded, amazed at the level of perception this sixteen-year-old girl — no, young woman — possessed. This wasn’t simply accessing thoughts and emotions to truly understand someone; this was the shrewd, intelligent young woman he remembered meeting a decade earlier in his life. “You still love him, don’t you?”

She lowered her head to the ground, her flaming red hair falling forward to hide her face. “I have to love him, Will. He’s my father. I must believe there is good in him, though it’s as hidden as the abilities he so desperately wants. If there’s no good in him… perhaps that means there’s no good in me, either.” His heart ached at the pain in those words.

Her head snapped up, her eyes full of challenge. “Don’t pity me,” she snapped. Such was the joy of conversations with people with strong empathic skills.

Will nodded his head. “My apologies.”

A faint smile appeared. “For the curse of who my father is, or for feeling sorry for me?”

Will smiled back. “Mostly the former. I can’t help but wish it were otherwise for you.”

She shrugged. “It was difficult at the beginning, but after a while I realized something triggered the… what did you call it? Energy? I started sneaking previous items out once I noticed this Energy, because there was so much talk about these stories the Travelers told that we were always looking for something to happen. So if it was happening, I needed to know what was causing it. I traced it back to just a couple of herbs, but they worked very, very well. The first time I took both of them I got really sick, but after that I was fine. I was only eight at the time, so I’d been Father’s little volunteer for about two years. People were used to me getting sick, and none of them cared. They just wanted me to get well so they could make me try something else. I got pretty efficient at looking sick and unhealthy, and I think the Energy helped me look like I wanted to look. I didn’t want them to see me looking better, and have them realize something was happening, so I tried to look worse. It worked. Nobody suspected a thing.”

“So you were eight years old and were scheming to prevent others from figuring out what you knew?” Will tried to put an accusatory tone in his words, but he couldn’t keep himself from smiling.

“I wanted them to realize what they were doing was wrong, Will. If I looked healthier and they pieced together the combination, they’d consider my sacrifice worthwhile, and never regret it for an instant. If any of them were to realize the error of their ways and treat me well, I’d let them see things working. Eva was the first one. Some of the other Traders as well.”

“What happened to your mother?” Will asked, his voice gentle.

Her face fell again. “I’d rather not talk about it.” She looked away from him.

Will sighed. “I know you don’t, Elizabeth. But you’re the only one who can tell me exactly what happened, and why. Eva’s shared what she knows, but it’s not enough. I can’t protect you if—”

“I don’t
need
to be
protected
!” Elizabeth shouted. “I
need
to be treated as the person I am,
not
someone
else’s
idea of who I am!”

Will held up his hands as Elizabeth’s eyes streamed with tears. “I’m sorry. I’m doing a poor job of this. I am here to help you in whatever way I can. Tell me how I can help.”

She glared at him. “Leave me alone. And don’t ask me about her again.”

He ignored her request. “Tell me how you plan to change them.”

She didn’t answer.

“Are planning to try to… encourage them? With the Energy?”

Surprise covered her face. “You can do that?”

Will sighed. “Yes, you can. I prefer to avoid it. But yes, just as you can sense emotions, you can push Energy charged with an emotion to a person and it will influence how they feel. But if you did that in this case, then…”

“Then none of them have truly changed,” she said, sounding deflated. Her principles were rock solid; Will suspected most people in her situation would have given into the temptation to impose their will on others. The fact that she didn’t… well, it simply reminded him of who this young woman would grow up to become.

“This wasn’t an option you had before, though,” Will noted. “It’s clear to me you’ve been thinking about this for a great deal of time. How were you hoping to achieve your goal before?”

Elizabeth glanced at him and looked away.

“Please, tell me,” Will said, moving closer to her. “I do want to help you achieve your goal, in whatever way you’d like me to help. What can I do?”

Elizabeth turned back toward him, and Will gasped in shock. Elizabeth suddenly looked as if she were deathly ill and had been subjected to physical assaults. Her left eye appeared swollen shut; her face was beaded with sweat and covered with bruises; her flaming red hair matted to her forehead. Her skin was pale and sickly.

“This is how,” she said, in a voice far too strong to match her appearance. “I want them to see what they’re doing to me, the harm they’re causing, and realize that what they’re doing is wrong. I want them to
choose
to do the right thing. When they do the right thing, then I will help them.” Even as Will watched, the artificial injuries faded and her skin returned to its normal, healthy glow. But not
too
healthy; she wanted to look worn down and ailing even on her supposed good days.

“That’s… amazing.” Will felt he was understating the miraculous skills the young woman possessed to alter her appearance. He then realized he’d reduced his height by several inches a few weeks earlier; this was a similar application of the skill.

“You can help me,” she said simply. “Try the foods I test. Make yourself look sickly as a result. Perhaps seeing you — a very tall, seemingly healthy man — suddenly fall ill will aid the cause.”

Will nodded. “I’ll do that.” He nodded at the row of canisters on the wall. “Grab a few of those items and throw them on the table.”

She gave him a look that clearly said she didn’t like orders. “It needs to be items you’ve not used before. I don’t know what you’ve tried, or I’d pick them out myself. You’ll want to hurry, because your father is on his way.”

Her mouth formed an “oh” and she darted to the walls of shelves, flitting like a bumblebee among flowers, and she returned with a half-dozen different roots, berries, and herbs. Will put his hand near them and gave a small burst of Energy, crumbling the roots and herbs into a powder form. As they heard Arthur outside, Elizabeth picked up the powder in her hand and resumed some of her sickly appearance. Will adopted a studious appearance, as if monitoring her reaction.

The door opened, and Arthur stood there. Both Will and Elizabeth blinked, their eyes adjusting to the sunlight. Will faced Arthur, a stern look on his face, while Elizabeth sat hunched over at the table, looking at the powdered concoction with revulsion. Arthur took all of this in and smiled. “I take it your day went well, Will?”

Will shrugged. “No breakthroughs. Elizabeth was just about to try one last combination.” He turned and looked at her. “Weren’t you?”

Elizabeth’s eyes went wide. She shook her head slowly, then with more vigor. “N-n-n-no… I… I thought… I thought we were done.” Will could feel the emotion coming from her; she was enjoying this charade, but only because it had the potential to change Arthur..

Will narrowed her eyes at her. “I say we’re
not
done. Finish it!” He did his best to look menacing, which was difficult as he heard her laughing in his head.

Elizabeth shook her head again. “No… the smell… it will taste… awful… I’ll be sick…”

Will rose to his feet, the tallest man in the community even after his self-imposed height reduction. He marched around the table. “You will do as I tell you!” he snapped.

Looking mortified, Will watched as Elizabeth poured the mixture into her mouth. He located a small pitcher of water, poured the liquid into a clay mug, and handed it to her, careful to keep his look expressionless, a man looking simply to gather information.

This stuff is great!
Elizabeth’s voice sang in his head.
It’s one of the items that helped me out, and a few others that add a nice taste to it
. She choked, seized the cup of water, and gulped it down, letting the tears flow. The tears were real, Will decided. She was crying with laughter.

Will watched her for a few moments, but his focus was on the thoughts and emotions from Arthur. Elizabeth allowed her skin to become pale and clammy, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach as she began to wail. “It burns! It’s going to eat through me!” She fell to her knees, gasping, and looked up at Arthur, tears in her eyes. “Please… Father… make it stop!”

Arthur leaned in closer, oblivious to her suffering. “Did it work?” he whispered.

Will wanted to punch the man. Or vomit. Preferably on Arthur.

Elizabeth’s tears intensified, and she collapsed to the ground. Will wasn’t sure if that was faked as well, or the genuine grief of a young woman whose only living parent cared nothing for her or her suffering. Her sobs gradually stopped, and she fell into a deep quiet, as of one asleep or unconscious.

Will glanced at Arthur. “It appears we are no closer to finding answers, Arthur. Perhaps we can recruit more volunteers to test? With only one, we are limited in the number of combinations we can try, and we must wait until she recovers to try again.”

Will sensed fear from Arthur, but the man moved smoothly into his response. “Will, I fear that would be unwise. You see, we know that sickness or other maladies may appear after one ingests some of these items, and the degree may be intensified by combining them. If we spread that risk out, we may find ourselves incapacitated as a community for many days. What would happen if our farmers or smiths or carpenters or foragers were unable to work for days at a time? Elizabeth has recognized this fact for many years, and has been serving ably in this fashion.”

“What if there were additional
volunteers
, though? What if there were a group of our neighbors who
could
be sidelined for a few days without harming the rest? We could make much greater progress in that fashion. It will also help us to determine if one must reach a certain age before anything actually works.”

BOOK: Preserving Hope
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