Janice Hardy - Darkfall

“You’re going to be OK,” I said softly. So would I once we got back to the farmhouse and found a Healer who could take the pain from me.

He stood, swaying a bit, and I steadied him. Murmurs slid through the crowd, though they shouldn’t have. Wasn’t like aristocrats had never seen someone healed before. They were the only ones who could afford it these days.

“What did she do to him?”

“Saved his life.”

“She’s a criminal,” the same man said.

Ellis smiled. “No more than you.”

“But she’s—”

“Oh for Saints’ sake,” the woman with the boy said. “She’s a child. Do you really believe everything the Duke says?”

“I believe what I just saw.”

“So do I. She saved a life while you hurt my son and other people’s sons and daughters. Over what? Petty theft?” She shook her head and pulled her son closer. “You’re more criminal than she is.”

A few muttered in what sounded like agreement.

Ellis reached behind her with one hand and pulled strips of rope out of a back pouch. She tossed them to Aylin. “You and Quenji, bind the thieves’ hands before Nya wakes them up. We’ll take them back and let Jeatar deal with them.”

“They robbed us,” a woman said hesitantly. “It should be up to us what to do with them.”

Ellis shook her head. “This isn’t Baseer and it isn’t your property. You want to stay and keep getting fed, you follow our rules and do what we say.”

No one else said anything else, but many watched us with narrowed eyes.

“Wake them up.”

I did, drawing more pain into the throbbing around my middle. The thieves woke, gaped at us, but didn’t try to escape. Quenji hauled them to their feet, and we slowly made our way out of the camp. Ellis and Danello brought up the rear, looking more worried about the Baseeri than the thieves.

The aristocrats followed us to their “gate” but came no further. The man who’d used the weapon glared at us as we walked away.

Ellis shot me a look that said it was my fault, even if she clearly felt bad about it.

I wasn’t worried about a few trinkets getting stolen or that one camp was preying on another. That would sort itself out. But these were Baseeri whose allegiances we didn’t know, and they knew I was here. Some even thought I was a criminal, an assassin, but everyone here was supposed to be against the Duke. They were all supposed to be on Jeatar’s side.

So where did that put me?

I followed the others to the farmhouse, fresh dread churning my stomach.

* * *

Ellis and Copli took the thieves to the barracks. The rest of us went to the room Jeatar had set aside for an infirmary. We’d had more Healers when we’d fled Baseer, but most of them had left, returning to their families or just running further away to where the Duke couldn’t get them again. Only two remained – Lanelle and Tussen. I’d saved both from the Duke and his weapon.

Lanelle was on duty. Aylin immediately turned around.

“We’ll meet you after, OK?” she said, dragging Quenji out.

Lanelle looked hurt for a moment but covered it fast. I couldn’t blame Aylin for not wanting to be here. I’d have preferred it if Tussen had been on today. Lanelle had helped the Duke with his experiments, “taking care” of Tali and the other apprentices who’d been locked in the spire room and filled with pain.

Lanelle had been part of his next experiment, too, but this time as a victim, one of the Takers he’d chained to the weapon. It had surprised me when she’d volunteered to stay on the farm and help heal the refugees, but she probably didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“Is that your blood?” she asked, rising from a chair. She set down the book she’d been reading.

“No, a guard got stabbed in one of the camps.”

“He’s OK?”

“Yes.”

She glanced at Danello, standing stone-still behind me, then held out her hands. I took them. A faint tingle ran up my arms and swirled around my middle, and the pain was gone.

Lanelle made a face. “More than just a stabbing. You could have warned me.”

“Sorry, it was only a few flashes.”

She walked over to a cabinet and pulled a key from around her neck. “To you maybe, but for us regular Healers, that hurts just the same.” She unlocked the cabinet and pulled out a battlefield brick of pynvium. Pure metal, and worth a lot more than anything those aristocrats had in their camp.

She placed one hand on it, pushing the pain into the metal. She usually gave me a sly grin when she did it, taunting me that she could sense pynvium when I couldn’t, but not today. Maybe she was finally getting bored with it. I might not be a “regular Healer”, but that didn’t bother me nearly as much as it once had.

“There are some folks hurt in the outer camp,” I said. Probably some in Little ’Crat City, too, but I wasn’t worried about them. They’d march right up to the farmhouse and demand healing if they needed it. “They might need some looking after.”

Lanelle nodded. “I’ll head over when Tussen comes in.”

“Make sure you take some guards.”

“Always do.” She put the pynvium brick back into its cabinet and relocked it. “You hear about Geveg?”

She couldn’t mean the Gov-Gen. Jeatar hadn’t confirmed that, and even if he had, I doubt he’d tell Lanelle about it. “Hear what?”

“They’re chasing out the Baseeri.” She shrugged. “At least, that’s what I heard.”

“From who?” Danello asked. He sounded suspicious.

“People in the camps. They do talk to me, you know.”

“There’s a lot of talk in the camps,” I said, “but you can’t believe half of it.” Still, if Gevegians really were chasing the Baseeri out, maybe the Gov-Gen rumour was true.

Lanelle huffed. “All I know is that there’s a lot of homeless Baseeri around, and not all of them are from Baseer. They want to go home as badly as we do.”

Strange to hear Lanelle say she wanted to go home.

“Anyway,” she said, rubbing her eyes. I hadn’t noticed the circles under them before. “I’ll take care of the people in the camps.”

“Thanks.” We left Lanelle alone in a room of cots. I shivered, picturing the last room she’d overseen. The cots there had all been occupied. A room filled with suffering.

I sighed. “When did everything go so wrong?”

Danello paused. “The day you helped me.”

“ What ?” Did he blame me?

“No! I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly. “It wasn’t you , it was just that day. The ferry accident. All those people hurt. That’s when it started.”

I exhaled, but my heart was still racing. “OK. That’s when we found out about the Duke’s experiments, but you know, I think it started before that.” I looked at him, and understanding flickered in his eyes. Sadness, too.

“Five years.”

I nodded. “Five years.”

When the Duke took over and invaded our homes. And until he was gone, nothing would ever be right again.

“Nya,” Aylin whispered sometime in the hours before dawn. “You awake?”

“Yes.” The wind had woken me a while back, gusting against the farmhouse like waves on rocks. No forests or mountains to stop it, I guess. Just open farmland.

I missed waves. And water. The caw of lake gulls riding the wind.

Aylin shook me. “Are you listening?”

“I’m sorry. What?”

She blew out a sigh. “I asked how long you were going to look for Tali.”

“Until I find her.”

“What if you don’t?”

I didn’t want to think about that. Or talk about it. Silence stretched in the darkness.

“I’m not trying to be heartless or anything,” she continued, “but if the rumours are true, if Geveg belongs to Gevegians again, well, going home would be a good thing, wouldn’t it?”