The Sorcery Within

XXXVIII

ASALEMAR ANDGAST MADEtheir way down the road at the western edge of the Ahloorm River, they unexpectedly ran into a large encampment of Zyraii. The group had settled under the canopy of a grove ofhoeanaou trees, where they were feasting and drinking wine. They proved to be the Hysic, the smallest clan of the T'lil, in the midst of their migration from the river basin to the far parts of their range. Children ran out to meet the Hab-no-ken, followed not long after by the Hysic's sole Bo-no-ken and a party of elders.

"What is the occasion?" Gast inquired, after he had accepted an invitation to join the festivities.

"The siege of Xurosh has ended," the Bo-no-ken replied. "The traders have sent their soldiers home."

Alemar took the wineskin that had been thrust into his hands and listened keenly, eager for news of Elenya. He had not seen her since he had originally left with Gast. They had visited the T'krt twice in recent months, but she had not been there. She was among the warriors who continued to defend the fort after the Zyraii had taken it.

"Yetem has becomehai-Zyraii," a very young Po-no-pha told him, apologizing almost in the same breath for not being able to remain at Xurosh; he had sustained a broken leg while storming the fortress. Alemar had noticed his slight limp. "He has shared blood with the war-leader."

The youth went on to describe the battle, particularly the attack on the southern keep, where he had received his injury. Alemar sat with him and the few Po-no-pha present and listened patiently. He had heard the story of Xurosh several times. He knew of Shigmur's death, of the poisoning of the well, and of Lonal and Elenya's desperate stand. Nevertheless, he enjoyed it for the social aspect, which he often missed in his travels with Gast, and he was proud of his sister's new honor.

It was late before he excused himself and wandered to the edge of the camp. He stood at the edge of the jungle, bathed in the glow of Motherworld, enjoying the sensation of being surrounded by trees. He had never totally adjusted to the desert's overwhelmingly open spaces. Soon he realized he was being watched.

It was a woman. She was about Alemar's age, small, sturdy, and calm in her movements. She waited respectfully for him to acknowledge her, which he did.

"Would you look at my daughter? She is ill." Something in her tone told Alemar that if he should decline, she would accept that gracefully and retire, but with the same observation he realized that she was not the type to summon him without cause.

"Of course," he answered.

The girl, a four-year-old, was under a small awning, segregated from her family's tent for fear that her sickness was contagious. She was fierce with fever and had a rash across her chest and throat. Alemar frowned. He had not seen the symptoms before, but they matched one of Gast's descriptions. He could fetch the Hab-no-ken…

He decided against it, instead placing his palms around one of the little girl's hands. Within seconds he had entered a trance.

The girl's form seemed to become transparent. He could sense the functioning of each organ, the pulsing and coursing of her bloodstream, the amount of urine in her bladder. The source of the problem was immediately apparent. He could see thewrongness leaving the upper intestine and spreading throughout the rest of the body. He memorized the aura of the irritant and ended the trance.

"What has she eaten in the past two days?" he asked the mother.

"Millet, cheese, dates…"

"Any milk?"

"Yes, of course."

He gestured out at the spot where the sheep and goats had been penned. "Fetch a bit of fresh milk for me."

When she had returned, Alemar lifted the milk to his nose and sniffed. "Grass, water…yolo weed."

"There's a great deal of it growing nearby," she said. "The sheep won't touch it, but the goats don't care."

"Your daughter's body is sensitive to yolo weed," Alemar said. "Stop giving her milk, and she will recover." He rummaged in his pack. "I'll prepare something to help her fever."

Alemar tilted the bowl to the little girl's lips, supporting her upper back with his other hand. She sipped his concoction reluctantly, closing her eyes against the bitter aroma, but eventually she finished it. He laid her back down on the sweat-drenched mat.

"Good girl," he said.

She was near delirious, and did not answer.

"Be sure to give her plenty of liquid. If she's still hot tomorrow, give her another dose of the potion. You're sure you remember how to mix it?" He had thought it best to teach her, in the event the problem recurred in future seasons.

The mother nodded. He was impressed once more by the intelligence behind her young eyes.

"You're the brother of the warrior woman, the hero of Xurosh?" she asked.

"Yes." He was intrigued. The woman was a T'lil. She should have referred to Elenya as a man. "Why do you ask?"

"Yetem has changed the world," the woman said, stroking her little daughter's hair. "Perhaps this one will have it better, because a female has becomehai-Zyraii."

"She is not called a female."

"The truth is known."

Abruptly the woman reached to her collar, pulled off the small rawhide necklace she wore, and handed it to Alemar. He saw then that it was decorated with a small bit of turquoise. No doubt it was the only thing of value she owned.

"For Yetem?" he asked.

"No, that is for you. For your help. My husband will give you nothing."

"I can't accept it."

She insisted. "It isn't that you healed her – it's that you bothered to try."

He understood. By accepting the gift, he was accepting her worthiness to give it. Though it barely fit, he managed to tug the necklace over his head. It settled inside the gold chain of the amulet.

The mother's smile was cut short by a sudden shudder from her daughter. The girl opened her eyes, wearing the fright of a fever dream, calming when she saw her parent beside her.

"Don't let the Dragon get me," the little girl begged.

Her mother soothed her. Childlike, she was asleep again within seconds. Alemar, however, had been brought resoundingly alert.

"What did she mean?"

The mother looked embarrassed. "Her grandmother has been scaring her into obedience, saying that the Dragon will come to get her if she is bad, burning her up as he did the people of Elandris."

"What? The Dragon can't – When did you get this news?" Alemar asked urgently.

She seemed surprised at his tone. "Three weeks ago. Why?"

"Never mind," he said. "Just tell me all you know."

She seemed worried by his sudden agitation. "It is said that the Dragon has grown his wings and taken to the skies. He burns the boats that try to cross the great water, save the ones that belong to him. The cities that oppose him are cut off, and the old king is dead. The people are despairing."

Alemar stood up abruptly, nearly upsetting the awning. "I must find my master," he said, and left before the woman could respond.

He nearly bumped into a man who had just stepped out of the family's tent. It could only have been the girl's father. "She will be well?" the man asked.

"Yes," Alemar answered curtly, and strode on toward the guest tent where, sometime before, he had seen his teacher conversing with the clan's Ah-no-ken.

"Good," the father said as Alemar departed. "She'll be able to carry her load soon."

Gast was alone, taking tea. He nearly spilled his cup, so sudden was Alemar's entrance. "What is it, my son?" the Hab-no-ken asked.

"Have you heard the news from Elandris?"

Gast shook his head in wonder as Alemar finished his story, still not quite believing. "It was right that you kept your quest secret," he said finally. "If you are what you say, your actions may destroy the very magic that keeps Setan sacred. Zyraii would have made sure to be quickly rid of you."

"But you'll take me there?" Alemar asked again.

"Yes," Gast said slowly, "but as God is my witness, I do it only because you are a healer, not because you are an Elandri prince. I had hoped for a few more months before I took you to Setan."

"I can't delay."

Gast stared down guiltily. "You won't have to. You have been ready for some time now."

"Then – why have you waited?"

The healer sighed. "I have never taken an apprentice before. Since I was young, I have been alone in my travels. It was…good to have someone with me."

Alemar felt his eyes grow moist. Of all the teachers who had instructed him – from Obo to his grandfather to Lord Dran – Gast had become the nearest and most precious of them. He, too, had hoped to make the apprenticeship last. It bothered him to have to ask the man to commit a sacrilege.

He drew out the amulet of Alemar Dragonslayer. Gast looked at him quizzically.

"My sister has to know."

Alemar regarded the talisman ambivalently. Once he used it, he would have turned his back on the life he had known for the past year. He was not eager to do that.

But a small voice whispered in his ear: "Don't let the Dragon get me."

He lifted the jewel to his forehead, his mind reaching out…