Maggie Furey - Harp of Winds

“Aurian?” Chiamh tugged at her arm. “I think I may be able to assist you in your search. May I stay here and make some investigations while you are with the Queen?”

The Mage glanced questioningly at Elster, who nodded. Aurian thanked the physician, and turned back to Chiamh.

“What do you mean, investigations?”

He shook his head. “I would rather not say at this point, and there is no time for long explanations. I will return to you as soon as I can—certainly before the dawn.” With that, Aurian had to be content. She knew the young Windeye could be trusted. She looked back at the sturdy winged bearers, who were readying nets to take her with the rest of her companions across the gulfs of air to the royal apartments, and sighed.

Raven had been dreading Aurian’s arrival. She had always been considerably in awe of the tall, flame-haired Mage, and now that she had given Aurian cause to hate her . . . Raven shuddered, and gasped with pain. Even that small movement sent agony lancing through her ravaged, splinted wings. If only she can help me, the winged girl thought desperately. Unfortunately, despite Aurian’s promise, she had no confidence that the Mage would do anything of the kind. Were our situations reversed, Raven mused, I would not help her . . . Then the door of her chamber opened, and the subject of her thoughts walked in.

For a moment, their eyes locked, then: “Don’t dare to pity me” Raven snapped, before the Mage could turn away, as others had, with that expression in her eyes.

Aurian merely shrugged. “You brought it on yourself,” she said coolly, and the winged girl clenched her teeth with anger. It was even more galling that the Mage had noticed. Aurian raised an eyebrow. “Make your mind up,” she said brutally. “I didn’t come to waste sympathy on you, Raven. I came to Heal you, as I promised—and then we’ll see what you can do to make amends for betraying us all.” The Mage’s stern words were echoed by a low and menacing growl, and Raven’s heart sank to see that Shia, together with another cat, had accompanied Aurian into the chamber. She was further dismayed to see Yazour behind them, his eyes like a naked blade. The winged girl flushed beneath his withering glare. As far back as the forest, the young captain had made it clear that he was attracted to her. When she had repeatedly spurned his tentative advances, his feelings for her had soured. She was astonished, therefore, to see his face turn pale with shock as he took in the extent of her dreadful injuries. He shook his head, dismayed, and tightened his lips as though he did not trust himself to speak.

“Lady, must these animals be in here?” Cygnus, entering with Elster, was frowning. He sidled across the chamber, putting the widest possible space between himself and the intimidating cats, to hover protectively by Raven.

“Yes, they must” Aurian replied shortly. “Now get out of the way, and let me get on with this.”

“What?” Elster looked startled. “You intend to heal her now? Just like that—with no preparation or anything?”

“Well, I must admit, a hot drink would have been welcome on this freezing night, but since no one has offered . . .” The Mage shrugged. “Yes, I’m going to do it now, and I want you two out of here.” She looked hard at the remains of Raven’s wings. “This will be tricky, and if I’m interrupted or distracted while I rebuild the wings, she could end up in a worse state than before I started.”

Raven saw the bitter disappointment on Elster’s face, and a flash of angry denial in the eyes of Cygnus. For a moment she was tempted to insist that they stay. Alone, she would be utterly at the mercy of Aurian and the cats. The Mage was looking at her with one eyebrow raised and a challenging tilt to her chin. “Well, Raven?” she asked softly. “Will you trust me to keep my word—or not?”

“Do not permit this, Your Majesty,” Cygnus urged. Elster said nothing, but she also looked unhappy. The winged girl hesitated—but only for a moment. “I owe you my trust,” she answered softly, “and much more than that.”

The Mage nodded briefly, accepting the sentiment behind the words. Raven turned to the protesting physicians.

“Out,” she said in imperious tones that she had learned from her mother. “Do not return until you are summoned.”

“Actually ...” Aurian was frowning thoughtfully. “One of you must stay. In order to repair that wing, I’ll need a perfect example to work from.” She gestured to Elster. “It had better be you—you’re less excitable than your friend.”

“Lady—no!” Cygnus protested. “I too am a physician. Would you force me to miss such a miracle? It isn’t fair to exclude only me, out of everyone in this chamber.”

Aurian sighed. “Oh, very well.” She looked at Yazour. “If our physician here utters a single sound, I want you to cut his throat.”

Yazour, grinning evilly as he slipped a long, keen dagger from his belt, looked as though he would be only too happy to oblige, and the protest that Raven had been about to make died abruptly on her lips.

As the Mage began to work, there was complete silence in the chamber. Afterward, Raven had few clear recollections of the Healing, but what stood out ever afterward in her memory was the sudden, shocking cessation of pain as Aurian laid a gentle touch upon her wings. In the absence of the agony that had been her constant torment, the winged girl was bathed in a warm, floating wave of euphoria, her body gloriously relaxed as though it suddenly had become weightless. Nothing in her life had ever felt so wonderful. Drowsily, she let her mind float free, barely feeling the lingering tingling glow as the Mage’s hands passed over the shattered wings, and the force of Aurian’s magic sank into mangled tissue and splintered bone, straightening and healing the damage Blacktalon had wrought. If only she could also heal my mind, Raven thought, of the grief I feel for my mother—and for Harihn, despite the fact that he betrayed me. If only she could heal me of the guilt I feel at betraying the Magefolk, and poor Nereni . . . Yet under the benison of Aurian’s Healing touch, even such bitter thoughts had little power to hurt the winged girl. Perhaps, if she could find a way to make amends, she might be truly forgiven... On such a note of hope, Raven’s mind drifted away into dreams.

“That’s it—finished.” Aurian straightened her aching back, and rubbed the last traces of blue Magelight from hands that had begun to shake with tiredness and tension. The repair of Raven’s intricate wings had been by far the most difficult Healing she had ever attempted. The Gods only knew how long it had taken! Rubbing her stinging eyes, the Mage glanced out of the window. Although it was still dark outside, she could sense that peculiar lightening of the air and the spirit that comes when the night has turned toward the dawn.

Aurian turned away from the window, belatedly aware that no one had replied to her comment. Raven was asleep already, Shia and Khanu were also sleeping, curled tightly together in a corner, black on dappled black and gold. Yazour was rummaging behind embroidered curtains, peering into the alcoves they concealed, “They must keep some wine somewhere in this room,” he muttered,

Cygnus and Elster were staring, mouths agape, at Raven’s wings. “Impossible!” whispered the young physician. Elster shook her head. “No! she contradicted. “It was truly a miracle.” For the first time, she smiled at Aurian with genuine warmth. “My Lady, how can we ever recompense you for saving our Queen?”

The Mage grinned back at her. “Well, to begin with, some food and wine and a warm place to rest would help,” Having expended so much energy in Healing Raven, she was sagging with exhaustion. “Tomorrow,” she added wryly, “I’ll talk to Raven, and let you know what else,”