Bridge of Dreams

Chapter 16

Zhahar’s hands shook as she rolled up trousers, tunics, and underclothes as tightly as she could, packing as much as she could into the large cloth traveling bag. The bag had shoulder straps, and that would help, but it would be as much as she could carry. Maybe more than she could carry in their present condition.

*How are you?* she asked. The bruise along her ribs was black and spongy in a way that told her there was blood under the skin. Which meant the knife slash Zeela had taken was still bleeding.

=Hurting,= Zeela replied. Then she added reluctantly, =I’m going to need someone to sew me up.=

::Leave the books,:: Sholeh said when Zhahar reached for them. ::I’m not strong enough to carry what we’re taking, and the weight of the clothes is going to hurt both of you.::

*We agreed that we could each take something personal,* Zhahar said, although, after packing Zeela’s weapons, she chose to leave her own trinkets behind. *We don’t know if our things will still be here when we’re able to come back.* Or if any of them would want to come back for a few possessions. If Zeela was attacked and wounded two doors from their rooms, Sholeh wouldn’t be able to come into view at all on this street anymore.

::I’m changing the agreement,:: Sholeh said. ::Books are heavy. We take clothes, shoes, toiletries. Only enough to get us by. Don’t argue, Zhahar! If you can’t make it back to the Asylum, there’s no place we can find help for Zeela.::

Painful truth. But Zhahar’s hand hovered over Sholeh’s precious books a moment longer before she turned away.

They had bandaged the wound as best they could, but it was serious enough to weaken all of them. Zeela couldn’t carry the traveling bag. Neither could Sholeh, who could drag it if she had to, but that would tell the men who had turned into predators that she wasn’t strong enough to defend herself against them. And maybe those men were only after dark-haired women, which is what they were shouting when they attacked, but if that wasn’t true, Sholeh wouldn’t stand a chance.

*I’m sorry about the books, Sholeh.*

::If something happens to us, we lose more than books,:: Sholeh replied. ::There isn’t much of Tryadnea left that isn’t desert. If we lose this connection, we’ll lose more arable land, and our people won’t survive long if that happens.::

*I know.*

Zhahar packed everything she could into the bag, knowing its weight would stagger her for the few blocks between their room and the omnibus stop. Despite that, and ignoring Sholeh’s mutters, she took their largest market sack and filled it with as much of their food as possible. Their money she hid in the traveler’s pouch around her waist, keeping in her trouser pocket just enough for the omnibus fare.

Zhahar took a last look around. Despite their best efforts to fit in and belong, the connection between Vision and Tryadnea had slipped during the past few months and was now somewhere in the northeastern end of the city. How much longer would it hold?

And what had Lee meant by heart wishes?

She had burned their mother’s letters so that no one would know about the Tryad—and so that no one would know where the last connection between the lands was located.

Nothing more to do except leave while she had the strength to reach the Asylum.

Settling the straps on her shoulders, Zhahar tried to stifle the moan as she felt the pull of the bag’s weight. If Zeela didn’t get help soon, they would be faced with the terrible choice of letting one sister die in order to save the other two.

Clenching her teeth, Zhahar left their rooms and stepped out into the gray light that held the promise of dawn.

“Lee?”

Lee opened his eyes to gray light that held dark shapes. He pushed up and rolled off the narrow bed as someone turned the handle on his door.

“Lee? It’s Sholeh.”

Swearing softly, he stepped toward the door, hands in front of him to protect his face if she pushed open the door.

“Hold on,” he said. He found the edge of the door and pulled it open. “What are you doing here?”

She didn’t answer. Probably couldn’t, since she was puffing while dragging something into his little room.

“Daylight,” he muttered. Finding her shoulder, he held her still while his other hand traveled down her arm to the soft bag. “What have you got in here? A body?”

“Clothes. Shoes. Our things. Zeela was attacked outside our rooms. We were afraid to stay there. She’s hurt.”

He found a strap and hauled the bag farther into the room—and Sholeh with it. Then he closed the door.

There were too many questions he wanted to ask, but he heard her breathy efforts not to cry. “Where is Zhahar?”

“She needs to rest, so I’m in view now. Sh-she’s hurt too. Not cut like Zeela, but the wound is showing through on her too.”

Lee’s heart jumped. The wound was showing through? “How badly is Zeela hurt?”

“Bad. A knife slice along the ribs. It’s still bleeding.”

Now he swore in earnest. “Why didn’t you get to the infirmary and have whoever is on duty summon Meddik Benham?”

“And say what?” she cried. “How can I explain Zeela being here without Zhahar or why I have our things? We trust you to know about us, but…”

“I know how to keep family secrets,” he said. “Sit in the chair. Zeela needs to…” He hesitated, trying to remember her phrasing. “Zeela needs to come into view now.”

He didn’t wait for her agreement. Feeling his way to the door, he opened it, winced a little at the soft light, then began moving down the hallway, fingertips brushing the wall on his left, traveling over other doors.

The door at the end of the hallway opened.

“Lee?” Nik’s normally friendly voice held a challenge and warning. “You’re not supposed to leave your room until first call.”

“I need to see the Shaman, and you need to fetch the Meddik. Now.”

“Look here—I know Shaman Danyal has been lenient with you, but…”

“A woman is hurt and needs Meddik Benham. Fetch him now!”

The hallway lit up so bright that Lee ducked his head to protect his eyes. A heartbeat later, thunder rattled the building.

He braced a hand on the wall. “Guardians and Guides, that’s never happened before.” At least, not in response to his temper.

“You go back to your room,” Nik said, sounding shaken. “I’ll fetch— Shaman!”

“What happened?” Danyal asked, huffing a bit as if he’d run to the building from wherever he’d been.

“I’ll explain,” Lee said. “Nik is going for the Meddik. Zeela is in my room. She’s been hurt.”

“Tell Benham he’s needed here,” Danyal said.

A moment after Nik dashed off, Lee felt Danyal approach—and wondered if he or the Shaman had caused that flash of lightning and the thunder that followed.

“What’s Zeela doing in your room, Lee?” Danyal asked softly.

“I won’t betray a trust,” Lee replied just as softly, “so I won’t tell you all you want to know. I understand some things about Zhahar and her sisters. I think that’s why they came to my room. Or that was as far as they could get.”

“Zhahar and Sholeh are here too?”

“Yes.” Would I trust this man enough to gamble with my own family? Would I tell him enough to help him guess the rest? “Their full name is Sholeh Zeela a Zhahar.”

Danyal jerked, then said, “Brooks full of bright water. Storms. A summer lake.”

So Danyal had felt something when he was around the sisters.

“Some of the spiritual practices of Zhahar’s people would be compromised if she were to stay in the infirmary,” Lee said. He wasn’t sure calling them spiritual practices was accurate, but that explanation would receive the least resistance when it came to changing the rules. “She can stay in my room.”

“No, she cannot.”

Lee huffed out a breath. “I’m not going to see anything I shouldn’t see, but I can offer some muscle, because I think they’ll need it. Kobrah can help. And I can sit on the porch under my window so I can hear if she needs help without being in the room all the time.” He could feel Danyal’s resistance. “Daylight, man! If Zeela can strip me down and bathe me, I can sit by the bed and watch over her.”

“Zeela?”

Lee shrugged. “It’s amazing how much people let you see when you can’t see.”

Silence when they heard two people running.

“She’s down in Lee’s room,” Danyal said.

“Why didn’t someone have sense enough to bring her to the infirmary?” Benham growled as he trotted past them.

Lee assumed the door he heard opening was his, especially when the Meddik’s footsteps stopped.

“Get a stretcher!” Benham shouted. “Get it now!”

Nik ran.

Danyal’s hand closed on Lee’s arm, guiding him as they hurried back to his room.

Based on the arrangements of dark blobs and gray light, Lee figured they were standing in the doorway of his room.

“How is she?” Danyal asked.

“She has a deep knife wound between two ribs,” Benham snapped. “How do you think she is? As soon as Nik returns with that stretcher, she’s going to the infirmary.”

“Just need a little sewing up,” Zeela said, her voice slurred.

“A couple of hours ago, you might have needed just a little sewing up,” Benham said. “Now…”

“Benham,” Danyal said.

“If you have something to say to me that you don’t want shouted to everyone within hearing, come in. I’ve got to keep pressure on this wound. And who is this anyway? And why is she in a male inmate’s room?”

“She’s Handler Zhahar’s sister. She had reasons to seek help from Lee.”

Picturing the dark look he was getting from Benham, Lee said, “I’m not having sex with Zeela.”

“Tch,” Zeela slurred. “Wouldn’t have him anyway, since he wants to rub skin with Zhahar.”

“Which we haven’t done,” Lee said firmly. Rub skin? He’d been fantasizing about a bit more than that lately, but he didn’t know the Tryad’s customs when it came to having sex. Maybe touching skin, which was unique to each sister, was considered more intimate than touching body parts that were shared?

Nik returned with a stretcher and Denys. A protesting and no doubt frightened Zeela was moved from chair to stretcher and hurried to the infirmary.

Lee wanted to go with them but figured a blind man would be in the way. Besides, hearing the door close and Danyal quietly turning, he didn’t think leaving the room was an option right now.

“What’s that?” Danyal asked.

“If you’re referring to the pack, it’s what they could bring. They ran, Danyal. Something turned sour where they live, and they ran after Zeela was hurt. Took what they could and most likely left the rest.”

“Should I understand that I won’t be able to talk to Zhahar until Zeela is out of the infirmary?”

“Yes, you should understand that.”

Silence. Then, “Where did you come from, Lee?”

“I come from a village called Aurora. I don’t know where that is in relation to this city except the air has less heat there even on a muggy day, and I’m pretty sure the plants look different based on the leaves I’ve felt. But we don’t measure distance the way you do. We don’t travel the way you do.”

“Why not?”

“Because I grew up in the part of the world that was a broken battlefield. I can walk down the road and never be able to reach the neighboring village if it’s not a place that resonates with my heart, but I can cross a bridge and be in another part of the world. That’s the Ephemera I know.” Lee cocked his head. “Does it bother you that she told me some things about her people that she didn’t tell you?”

“Yes. The Shamans protect this city and its people.”

“Zhahar has the skills that earn the wages that allow them to stay in the city. If you couldn’t accept some of her…”

“Spiritual practices?”

Lee nodded. “Their lives would get a lot harder. Me? Not as much risk having me figure it out.”

“Unless the wound is so severe that Zeela must stay in the infirmary, I’ll convince Benham to let her return here. You and Kobrah—and Zhahar—will take turns watching over her. I’ll let you figure out what to tell Kobrah about Zhahar’s spiritual practices.”

“And Sholeh will help,” Lee reminded him. “She’s here too.”

“All right. In the meantime, the morning routine has been disrupted enough.”

“I had arranged with Zhahar to visit Vito this morning.”

Weight to this silence. “Why?”

“I think I can help him,” Lee said. “I think it would be better if you didn’t ask how. At least, not yet.”

Another silence. “Have you put in your eyedrops this morning?”

“No.”

“I’ll have Kobrah come and assist you, and escort you to the isolation cell where Vito is being held.”

“Thank you, Shaman.”

The door opened and closed and Lee was alone in his room.

The wound was showing through. Were they all feeling weak from blood loss? How badly was Zhahar hurt? Until she was able to come into view, there was no way for anyone to see the damage or help her.

A rap on his door, a token courtesy, since Handlers and Helpers could enter whenever they wanted to.

Kobrah entered. “Shaman said I was to help with the eyedrops and then take you to see Vito.”

“Yes.”

“Zhahar’s sister is in the infirmary. Knife wound.”

He heard something dangerous in Kobrah’s voice. “What happened to you, Kobrah?”

“The first Chayne hurt me, made something go wrong inside my head.”

Damn.

“Zhahar says you’re a good man, says you’re not a Chayne and I can trust you.”

“She’s right.” And he hoped with all that was in him that Kobrah believed it.

She stepped over to the dresser.

“The eyedrops are in the top right-hand drawer,” he said.

“I know.” She paused. “Can’t sit on the chair. There’s blood on the floor.”

Not good. If Zeela was still bleeding that much, it was not good.

“Sit on the bed. It’s just behind you.”

He felt for the bed and sat. She put in the eyedrops, as quick and gentle as Zhahar. While he sat with a damp, cool cloth over his eyes, she replaced the bottle in the dresser, and, based on what he was hearing, must have done a little tidying up while she waited. Then she led him to Vito.

They weren’t going to leave him alone with a restrained man—and he didn’t want them to. But he leaned over the bed and said quietly, “That place you saw the other day. Is that where you belong?”

“Yes,” Vito sobbed. “I found home. But it’s gone.”

“It wasn’t supposed to stay,” Lee said. “It was meant to be a chance for you to look, to let your heart feel.”

“I found home.”

“I don’t know if you’ll find that exact piece of the world, but I can help you find the place it came from.”

The sobs trailed off and finally stopped.

“You can find it?” Vito asked.

“I can give you a chance to find it. But the first thing you have to do is get well enough to be released from this room. There are steps you’ll have to take, things you’ll need to do. If you can do them, I’ll help you.”

Lee stepped back from the bed. “Could you take me to the temple? I’d like to spend some time there while we wait for news about Zeela.”

A pause. Then Kobrah said, “Yes, I’ll take you there.”

Ephemera flowed through the currents of power in this part of itself, waiting for the Lee-heart to find the new access point and cross over to the Music, waiting for Voice-guide to listen to another heart and help it shape a little making. She did not want it bringing other pieces of itself to this place, but she wouldn’t be unhappy with it if another Guide helped it make something new.

But the Lee-heart passed by the access point, not even looking when it pushed the stolen time above the ground. So it added violets to the access point. She always smiled when it made violets from the Music’s song.

Then Voice-guide approached the access point and picked up the stolen time, but didn’t take the step between here and there. So the world flowed through the currents of itself, both Light and Dark, changing little pieces of itself to match the resonance of the strongest hearts. And it waited.

Danyal and Benham watched Kobrah and Nik settle Zeela into Lee’s bed.

Benham turned away from the door and pitched his voice low. “You’re leaving a wounded woman in the hands of an inmate. Do you think that’s wise?”

“Maybe not, but it’s the choice I’m making,” Danyal replied absently, his mind preoccupied with the new planting in the flower bed between the inmates’ residence and the temple. Slipping his hand in the pocket of his white robe, he fingered the pocket watch that had pushed itself out of the ground as he studied the plants. He was still waiting for some response to his last report to the Council, but in all the years he’d been a working Shaman, and even during the years when he’d been training, he’d never heard of the world being this responsive, this active.

“I’ve overheard enough whispers lately to know many of the Handlers are wondering the same thing I am about Lee.”

“And what is that?”

“If he’s someone from The Temples. Not a Shaman, but someone who might be strongly connected.”

Danyal looked at Benham in surprise. “What makes you think that? Have you forgotten his uncles or how he came to the Asylum?”

“Oh, no one has forgotten that, especially since those men used to come by often to check on him but have suddenly stopped visiting. You treat him more like an injured colleague than an inmate, and after you dismissed those false Handlers and got him clean of the drugs they were giving him, he has acted more like someone who is used to being in charge. So there is speculation among the Handlers about who he really is. I thought you should know.”

“I appreciate that.” And it’s still a question I would like answered myself. Especially after seeing the latest change in the flower bed.

Tap tap. Tap tap.

They both turned as Lee tapped his way down the hallway.

“Lee,” Danyal said, giving him time to stop.

“Shaman.” Lee tipped his head. “Meddik Benham?”

“It seems your hearing has sharpened,” Benham said.

“And you wear a distinctive cologne,” Lee replied, smiling.

Kobrah and Nik stepped out of the room.

“See to your other duties now,” Danyal told them.

“And I’ll see to my other patients,” Benham said. “I left a dose of pain medicine on the dresser. If Zeela needs it, Handler Zhahar can give it to her.” He hesitated, then gave Danyal a nod—and gave Lee a searching look.

“Benham and others are speculating that we’re colleagues,” Danyal said.

Lee’s smile didn’t look easy or amused. “That’s true, since Landscapers and Bridges have complementary skills that help keep the world balanced.”

“I found another pocket watch on the ground beside some little purple flowers and a nightshade plant.” He had felt the power of tidal waves and avalanches when he’d looked at that plant. Noting the sudden tightness in Lee’s face, he asked, “Do you know it by another name?”

“Where I come from, we call it belladonna.”

“What does it mean, Lee?”

“That depends. Was there a heart’s hope plant in the same bed or nearby?”

Light. Hope. “I don’t know a plant by that name, but one I’ve never seen before appeared a few days ago. It seems to lift the spirits of everyone who walks by.”

Lee sighed. “Message received.”

“Lee?” Danyal’s voice sharpened.

“Let it go, Danyal. For now, let it go. Zeela needs care.”

“I’d like to speak to Zhahar.”

Lee felt his way to the door and into the room. “I’ll tell her. Wait here a few minutes.”

The door closed. A couple minutes later, Zhahar opened the door and slipped out of the room. She had dark circles under her eyes and moved like she was in pain.

“Shaman?”

“You’re relieved of all duties for today and tomorrow. Get some rest and tend your sister. There is pain medicine on the dresser.”

“Yes, Lee mentioned it.”

“Your sister Sholeh can take her meals in the Handlers’ dining hall.” When she nodded, he added, “I’ll take a cart and a couple of men back to your rooms and clear out the rest of your things before they’re stolen.”

She paled, and he wondered what she’d left behind.

“That isn’t necessary.”

“No, it’s not, but it will be done.”

“Thank you.”

Bright water. Summer lake. But the storm, the strength he usually felt in her was dimmed—but not, he hoped, failing. “Get some rest.”

She slipped back into the room.

Perhaps it was foolish to go back to a street that was clearly changing into something troubled, but…

Kindness is a gift to yourself as well as to another.

One of the basic lessons.

Thinking about the plants in the garden—the heart’s hope and the plant Lee called belladonna—Danyal had a feeling that when it truly mattered, every bit of kindness he gave was going to be counted.

Lee’s fingers brushed against Zhahar’s arm. “Sit down before you fall down.” He waited until she sat on the bed, then sat beside her. “How bad is it?”

“Lots of stitches. More than we’d thought there would be. Sholeh has withdrawn. She doesn’t deal well with the sight of blood.”

Must be interesting with the two of you as sisters, Lee thought. “Sholeh said you’re hurt too. How bad?”

“Oh, I’m not—”

“She said the wound was showing through. You can tell me what that means, or I can haul you to the infirmary.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“You’re in no shape to stop me.”

Two voices said some very bad words—and he was sure that, being a one-face, he couldn’t do a lot of what they were suggesting he do.

“That’s it.” He took a firm grip on her arm.

“No!” Zhahar slumped. Then she sucked in a breath. “I have a bruise in the same place as the knife wound. A bad bruise. People would ask too many questions if they saw it. But it’s not a cut or anything. Just a bruise.” She hesitated. “And I’m staying close enough to Zeela to support her, so right now someone could feel her stitches under my skin.”

“I see,” he said. He wasn’t sure if she was talking about supplying her sister with physical energy, life energy, or something else, but he wondered if Zeela would have survived this long if Zhahar hadn’t been taking on some of the effects of the wound.

“I put our money belt in the dresser under your other set of clothes,” Zhahar said. “I put the key to our rooms there too. You should give it to Shaman Danyal if he’s really going to fetch the rest of our things.”

“I’ll see that he gets the key. And the dresser is as good a place as any for the money belt right now.” Releasing her arm, he began rubbing her back, an easy motion meant to soothe and comfort. “What’s the best thing for you to do now? I think Zeela needs to be in view, since different people are going to be taking watch and Benham is bound to check on her. But we can slide around that if we need to.”

“If she wasn’t so hurt, it would be better for Zeela to stay submerged and rest, but if there was trouble, she might not be able to come back into view and get help in time.”

Which meant every minute she and Sholeh had been in view in the effort to get them to safety had put Zeela at risk. Had Zhahar and Sholeh also been at risk? Those kinds of questions would have to wait until he could get Sholeh alone—or as alone as any of them could be. The little sister could be coaxed into giving him more information than the other two.

“So except for meals, which Sholeh can eat for you…” He frowned. “Can she eat for all of you?”

“Yes, but don’t let her eat any spicy foods. Zeela and I aren’t up to dealing with the result when it reaches the other end.”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Finally, “Got it. No spicy food for Sholeh. Anything else?”

“I can’t think of anything.”

He heard her voice slur from exhaustion. He continued to rub her back and felt her relax. She was still a dark blob in a room filled with gray light, but that showed him enough. Tipping her face toward his, he kissed her. Warmth and comfort. A physical reminder that she wasn’t alone.

“You can see me?” she asked when he eased back.

“A little,” he said, giving her the truth. “Dark shapes in gray light. But I’ve been kissing girls in the dark since I was fifteen, so I’ve had a bit of practice.” He kissed her again, adding a little heat. Not enough to stir her, but enough to give her something to think about.

That kiss stirred him plenty, though.

He stood up. “Get yourself settled in bed so Zeela can come into view.”

She did as she was told while he positioned the wooden chair near the end of the bed.

“Lee.”

Zeela’s voice was slurred. He didn’t know if it was from the wound and loss of blood, or the pain, or the medicine they had given her for the pain.

His fingertips followed the edge of the bed until he found her hand. Her fingers closed around his, but there was no strength in her grip, and that worried him.

“Rest, Zeela. You can rest now.”

“Shaman. Going to our rooms. He’ll find things. About us. He’ll…”

“I don’t think he’ll find anything he can’t understand or accept. No matter what he finds, he won’t ask you to leave before you’re well enough to travel. And if he asks then, well, I know some people who could take a Tryad pretty much in stride. Although I can’t promise you won’t be pestered with questions.”

Zeela made an effort to smile. “If they offer fair exchange, Sholeh will answer questions every minute she’s in view.”

That was exactly what he was counting on. He had information about all kinds of landscapes he could put on the table in exchange for information about the Tryad.

“Well, then. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Her hand went lax. He listened to her breathing even out into what he hoped would be a healing sleep. Then he sat back and thought about the people he was growing to care about here—and the people he’d left behind.

Danyal walked down the street where Zhahar lived. Thin ice. Black slush. Dead trees. Spring flowers withering as they tried to grow.

He hoped it hadn’t felt that way all the time Zhahar had lived here.

His white robe told everyone watching from the street or doorways what he was. Some made a sign of blessing. An equal number saw him and, shrinking back, made a sign against evil.

What else had walked this street recently, hiding what it was? Or pretending to be something that it wasn’t?

In a few more days, he wasn’t sure any Shaman would be able to see this street anymore. Something else he needed to report to the Council.

When he reached the building where Zhahar had her rooms, he left Denys to watch the pony and cart while he and Nik took traveling bags and carry sacks up the stairs to Zhahar’s rooms.

Their rooms? She had, after all, lived here with her sisters.

Not much left behind, he thought as he scanned the front room and the little cooking area. But enough.

“Start with the books,” he told Nik. “I’ll pack up the other room.”

When he opened the dresser drawers and saw the underclothes, he wished he had brought Kobrah. Not because women’s underclothes were unfamiliar—as he’d told Lee, Shamans weren’t celibate—but because he could picture Zhahar’s embarrassment that he’d seen what was intimate.

Then he picked up a carving and knew she wouldn’t fear him seeing her underclothes, but this.

A triangle of wood as high as his forefinger. On each side, a woman’s face. The faces were similar to each other, enough that one would call them sisters, but different enough not to be the same woman with different expressions. No, this…

Body, heart, and mind, he thought, turning the wood as he studied each face and decided what the expression represented. Or body, heart, and spirit? Pushing aside the underclothes, he found a flat piece of wood with a picture burned into it. Another woman’s face, but she had a third eye in her forehead.

That represented spirit. Maybe wisdom as well?

He wrapped them in underclothes and tucked them into the travel bag.

Why wood? Was that the usual medium for the sacred symbols of Zhahar’s people? Or were these made of wood because they could be burned if someone got too close to suspecting the truth? Whatever that was.

Lee said her name was Sholeh Zeela a Zhahar. One person with the name of all three sisters?

She hadn’t been honest with him, and that scratched. He was chosen for difficult assignments because he could be trusted, was trusted.

It all came down to trust, didn’t it?

The Shaman Council had made him the Asylum Keeper here because they’d said he was needed, that the city of Vision was going to need a bridge to span the distance between people.

As he checked every drawer and packed everything he could find, Danyal wondered if the council had sent him to the Asylum to be that bridge, or if they had sent him there because he would be trusted by the man who could span the distance between people.