Wyrms

Chapter 9. THE HEALER

RUIN FELT THE PRESSURE OF UNWYRM'S HATRED LIKE A WIND in his face. He fairly leaned into it, and grimaced at the pain of moving on. Had there been anyone to see him, he would have looked ridiculous, a naked, filthy, ungroomed gebling struggling to move through flat and grassy meadows in bright sunlight, torturing himself to stagger between trees whose branches easily bent out of his way.

But always, whenever Ruin set his face toward Cranning, there was a hurricane of resistance. He was the only gebling of all geblings who could not go home.

It was after two grueling days of this-pushing forward, stopping to rest, pressing on again-that he felt Reck's call to him. That loving touch that seemed to press like gentle fingers on his spine-Ruin had never told her how her call affected him; no other gebling had such power over him. Especially now, after days of Unwyrm's shout of rage: The whisper from Reck was unbearable.

Ruin stumbled to his knees and wept. Wept in anger- furious at Reck for calling him, furious at himself for not having the strength to ignore her call and fight on.

But he could not fight on. And after he lay in the grass by the stream for a few minutes or an hour, he crawled to the water and drank, then arose. For a moment he faced Cranningward; but the thought of another step in that direction was more than he could bear. He turned and went the other way. His feet were light under him. He loped through the woods and meadows, covering in minutes the ground that he had struggled through for hours.

All the while his sister was like a song in his mind, comforting him, calling him back to her.

Calling him, but not calling him home. There was no gebling alive who could call any of their humanlike houses "home." There was only one home for geblings;

The great city in the cliff, the mapless tunnels and delvings that reached a mile deep from the face of Skyfoot.

Cranning, a city with more inhabitants than most nations, peopled with men and dwelfs and gaunts but ruled by geblings, for only geblings held within their minds the indelible, unwritable memory of every turn of every tunnel in the place. Every stone in every cavern was familiar, even to geblings like Ruin, who had never set his foot on the stone, never tasted the cold water that flowed through the tunnels from the glacier above, never slept under the arch of darkness that was infinitely more comforting than the sky. Where Reck was. Ruin could be at peace; but outside Cranning, he could never be at home.

And while Unwyrm lived, how could Ruin ever get there? It was the quandary of his life, ever since he was a child and his mother explained who he was and what he had to do. "You are the most excellent of excellent blood, you and your sister, with the seeds of mastery in your souls. There is nothing you cannot learn, nothing you cannot do, no thought that cannot come into your mind like light out of the storm. You were born to be the best answer of the geblings to the terrible hatred of Unwyrm, our only hope to slay him, the two of you."

"Where do I find him?" asked the child Ruin.

"He lives at the heart of Cranning, where the lifeblood flows. He lives in the very womb of the geblings, the viper in our womb, to devour our babies as they are born."

"Then teach me the way to Cranning, Mother, so I can go and kill him!"

Then Mother wept, her long tongue hanging dejectedly from her mouth, its twin points glistening with her tears.

"How can you, of all geblings, not already know the way? Ah, Ruin and Reck, my son, my daughter, we made you to be the downfall of our enemy, but already he knows you and hides Cranning from you in your own mind."

When Mother died, Ruin and Reck wandered aimlessly in the world for a time. Each of them at once rejected and prepared for the work their mother had taught them they must do. Reck learned the arts of archery and could kill anything that she could see-but she refused to search for Cranning, denying that the place meant anything to her. She mocked Ruin for his endless effort to reach the place. "All dreams and visions," she said, "all foolish prophecies." But still she practiced with the bow in all her spare hours, and studied all the lore of Unwyrm that she could find among the geblings who traveled the river and came to take the hospitality of her house.

Ruin, in turn, would not become a killer. Instead he learned the arts of healing. He wandered in the woods, testing the herbs that grew there, using them to heal the sick and broken animals, the wounds caused by men and other beasts. When an herb was promising, he grew and nurtured it, taught it more of what he wanted it to do, and soon he had herbs that could drive away infections, root powders that could cure disease, berries that took away all pain. And he knew the inward shape of every body just by looking at its outward lines. The lizard and the Lion, the rubin and the grouse, he knew them, could cut them open and set them to rights. He could never have set his knowledge down in books, like humans did.

Poor humans-they lacked the othermind, the secret memory in which geblings hid their great learning even from themselves. If you asked Ruin what was wrong with one of his many patients, he could not tell you, for his manmind, his wordmind-it knew nothing of healing.

His wordmind could only speak, could only remember sights and sounds; he had no use for it. It was his othermind that he trusted, his othermind that he let rule him, and his othermind that held all his greatest gifts.

Except it was also his othermind that Unwyrm had found and forced away from Cranning. Only his weak and hated manmind could drive him forward, again and again, struggling for control of his legs and arms, in the endless vertical climb to meet his enemy. And when I meet him, what will I do? What am I fit for, except to be the first of my people to be devoured?

It was near nightfall and Ruin was bitter with failure when he reached the house he shared with Reck. He knew from the smell that there were humans inside, knew also that it was the old man who was injured and the young woman who most loved and feared for him.

The fat woman was just a pile of sweat; he disregarded her. There was also the smell of Will, but Ruin disregarded him, too. If his sister wished to keep a human instead of an ox, that was her prerogative. Ruin never spoke to Will, and Will returned the favor.

Reck greeted him without a touch or a smile. There had been anger here. Ruin questioned her in Geblic.

"Why do you let them stay, if they offend you?"

"The girl," said Reck. "Tell me you can't feel it, what she does to Unwyrm, being here."

Ruin strode to the boy-dressed girl, sitting on the floor in the corner. Yes, he could feel it too, like prickles on his spine. Near her, Unwyrm was not driving them away at all. He was calling. It was something Ruin had never felt before, though he had heard of it: the Cranning call.

It was unbelievably strong, like the promise of sexual pleasure, like a mother's love for a child. Ruin knelt and put his face close to the girl's face. He ignored her revulsion, ignored the hand that went up to her hair.

The fat woman shouted from by the fire. "Keep that filthy beast away from her or I'll kill him myself!"

"Quiet," murmured the girl. "He has more to fear from me than I from him." Ruin felt her breath on his cheek, and it seemed to be a warm breeze from Cranning, which called him now for the first time in his life.

"A naked gebling coming at a girl like that," gRuinbled me reeking old dunghill. "Time was when goblins knew their place."

Reck called him back to duty. "The fat woman who loves geblings is Sken. The man who is dying is Angel."

Ruin pulled himself away from the girl. It was almost a physical pain, when the Cranning call receded. Standing well away from her, though, it still had power over him, for the constant pressure of Unwyrm's hate was slackened. Ruin had never realized how much of his othermind Unwyrm had been using up. Now as he examined the wound, the understanding of it came so quickly and clearly that he could almost-not quite, but almost- bring it into his wordmind and explain it to himself. For the first time he realized what he might become if Unwyrm were dead.

Angel was unconscious. It meant Ruin would not have to waste time drugging him to sleep. He tasted the wound, which was still oozing blood. He knew the poison-one of the childish weeds that the woodland robbers were so proud of. It was the arrow itself that worried Ruin more.

It had done some tearing on the way in and would do more coming out. The man's eating throat would not heal well, and he might starve to death before he could swallow again.

"I'll have to cut him," said Ruin, again in Geblic.

"To let him heal inside. You tell the humans." He knew enough Agarant to make himself understood, but it was easier to let Reck deal with the humans. He much preferred communicating with the animals that didn't think themselves intelligent.

While Reck told the others what Ruin would do, he found the fungus spores that would undo the poison, chose a thin brass knife from his toolbox, and gently drew a long, fine strand from the wireweed in the window planter. There had been no metal in the soil, so it was all organic, and would eventually dissolve inside the body. He put the blade and the wireweed in his mouth with a sprig of claffroot, to sterilize them. Then, in a swift motion, he cut deeply in the man's throat, above and below the arrow. Ruin dipped his tongue in the fungus spores and then inserted his tongue in the incisions, deep within the wound, where the arrow's poison still prevented the clotting of blood. It would take only a few minutes for the spores to do their work, feeding on the poison and then producing their own bloodbinder to help in the clotting of the blood.

While he waited, he talked to Reck-in Geblic, of course, so the humans wouldn't understand. "The girl- who is she, and why is Unwyrm calling her?"

"How should I know?" asked Reck.

"You're the one who knows all the wyrmlore. She's too young to be one of the Wise."

"Maybe she's wise beyond her years. I think she's more dangerous than she looks. She isn't afraid of anything.

She said nothing of it, but I think she's the one who killed most of Tinker's men."

"With her bare hands?"

"You know the human woman that Unwyrm wants.

The Vigilants tell everyone the prophecy of the seventh seventh seventh daughter-"

"I pay no attention to humans, least of all to their religions."

"The seventh seventh seventh daughter was born fifteen years ago, to the deposed Heptarch of Korfu, which claims to rule the world. She could be of that age."

"It's too much to believe that of all the ways to Cranning, he would lead her right to us."

The spores had done their work; the bleeding stopped.

Ruin took hold of the arrowshaft and jerked it out. The man cried out in his sleep, more blood flowed, but again the spores sealed off the wound. Ruin hooked his finger around the tattered esophagus and pulled it to where he could see it. Then he deftly made vertical cuts, removing the torn edges.

While he sewed the wounds with the wireweed, he spoke to Reck in Geblic. "It doesn't matter if she's the one or not, though, does it? She won't go to Cranning without us."

"I have no interest in Cranning," said Reck.

"You're as much in this as I am," said Ruin. "He presses you away as much as me."

"Except I don't try to go there, so it doesn't hurt me.

You shouldn't try either, Ruin. Why do you think our family has stayed in exile all these generations, if not to be far from Cranning at just this time?"

"But he wants us to stay away. That changes everything.

Every other time, he wanted the king to be there with him."

"So we go just because he doesn't want us to? Then he controls us as surely as he ever did."

"Every other time, Sister, he wanted to use the geblings to destroy whatever it was the humans had been building.

He hasn't the strength to compel us all, but he compelled the king, and the king called the others to the common task. This time, though, it's all different. He doesn't plan to have the geblings act together. Perhaps he plans for us not to act together. And that's why we have to go."

"Give up the governing purpose of our ancestors, on a guess?"

"The ancestor who first made this plan had been in Unwyrm's control. That's why he decided on exile. But how can we be sure our exile wasn't what Unwyrm wanted him to decide?"

"There's no way out of that circle, Brother. Who knows if anything we do will play into his hands?"

"You see? So we decide for other reasons. And here is A one: without Unwyrm's breath in my face, Sister, I can - finally breathe. Whether Unwyrm means it that way or not, she can take us through to him."

"Until the moment he stops calling her."

"It all depends on whether he wants her more than he fears us."

"So you believe she's the one."

"Maybe fortune smiles on us." Ruin finished with the esophagus and put it back in place. "Tell her that his throat will heal in a few days. It'll be tighter than it was.

He'll have to chew his food."

Reck turned and, in Agarant, gave the news to the others. Ruin was still sewing up the outside wound, this time using common thread, when Reck finished and touched his shoulder.

"Does it make a difference to you whether the girl knows our plans or not?"

"How would she know?" asked Ruin, tying off the thread.

"Because I just discovered that she understands Geblic."

Ruin turned and looked at the girl. Her face was blank.

"What makes you think so?"

"Because she was already relieved about Angel before I told her he would be all right. And then she pretended to be relieved again after I told her. But her sweat was all wrong."

Ruin grinned at the girl, letting his tongue hang out a little. He knew how the slender forked tongue of a gebling unnerved human beings, though in fact she showed no sign that it bothered her. He spoke to her in Geblic.

"Never try to deceive a gebling, human. You're the true Heptarch's daughter, aren't you?"

The girl answered as smoothly and easily as if they had been conversing all day, and Ruin noticed that she spoke Geblic without a trace of the awkwardness humans often had in trying to form sounds with their blunt and stubby tongues. "No, sir. I am the Heptarch."

So her father was dead. Ruin felt no sympathy for the death of a human. Humans put on a good show of grieving, but they didn't really understand the bonding of a true family. They had no othermind, and could speak only in words. They remained strangers from each other all their lives. What was the life of a creature like this?

So he offered no commiseration. "You know the payment that I want for your friend's life."

"He's my slave, not my friend," she said.

"You'll take me with you. You'll make no effort to go without me."

"Maybe I'm not going where you think I'm going."

"You're going to Cranning to destroy my people, and I'm going to save them."

"Then why not kill me now, and save us both a good deal of trouble?"

"He wants you, but if I killed you he might make do with someone else. At least we know who and where you are. So when Unwyrm brings you to his nest, we'll be there, too. I think that means that we're friends." He smiled at her and let the tips of his tongue show.

Reck stood by the stewpot, the tasting spoon in hand.

"Why do you keep saying we, when I have no intention of going?"

Ruin did not look at her. "Because you'd never let me face Unwyrm alone."

Reck shrugged. "Will's stew is ready."

Ruin leaned closer to the Heptarch. Though she was sitting and he was standing up, he did not have to bend far for their eyes to meet. "Will you give me your word?

In payment for your slave's life?"

"You have my word, but not in payment for anything.

Angel's life is his own to repay, and my word is my own to give."

Ruin nodded solemnly. "Then come join us at table."

Reck laughed aloud. "It was worth all this trouble just to see this moment-you, Ruin, inviting a human to eat with you."

"But she's not a human, is she. Reck? She's Unwyrm's woman and the mother of death."

"I am no one's woman," said the girl. "And my name is Patience."

It was Ruin's turn to laugh. "Patience," he said in Agarant. "Come and eat. Patience."

The table was designed for the comfort of geblings. It was too low for Patience to sit on a chair, so she sat on the floor. She was the only human at the table. When Sken took a step toward them. Ruin's look was enough to drive her back to her stool near the fire. Will made no effort to sit. He served them, then took a bowl to Sken.

Ruin noticed that Patience observed all the proper forms of respect. She had been well enough taught that it seemed as natural to her as to a gebling, to offer every few bites from her dish to him or to Reck, and to nibble at the bites they offered her. On those rare occasions when humans were invited to share a gebling meal, they usually showed what a great effort and sacrifice it took to eat from a gebling spoon. But Patience showed nothing but deference and grace. Unwyrm's woman should be loathsome, not gracious, thought Ruin. But it makes no difference. Before all this is over, I'll probably have to kill her after all. What's the death of a human, if it might save my people?

When the food was finished off, they drank hot water from the pot by the fire. Ruin offered to take them through the forest, but Patience would have none of it.

"I take my people with me," she said. "When Angel is strong enough, we'll take him in the carriage. If we can find horses to buy."

Reck shrugged. "Buy? Ruin can find your horses tomorrow. He can find anything in the woods."

"Not to pull the carriage, though," he said. "We'd spend all our time dragging it out of mudholes. We'll go to the next human town and sell it and by a boat. The wind is out of the west, and Cranwater is wide and flat.

The roads are the worst way to Cranning."

So it was agreed. The only argument came later, in the darkness, when Ruin lay beside his sister and she told him she meant to bring Will along.

"What is he to you?" asked Ruin for the thousandth time. "Is he your lover, now? Do you want to bear his little monsters?"

She never answered such accusations. She only said, "He is my friend, and if I go, he goes too."

"So the giant comes with us. We'd better buy a large boat. There are too many of us already. And too many humans altogether." Then he fell to making obscene suggestions about what Will and Reck did whenever Ruin was away. She didn't answer, and he only stopped when her breathing told him that she had fallen asleep. It was hardly worth trying to make her angry anymore.