Blood & Bond

by Laura VanArendonk Baugh

  She blew out her breath. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? You were surely a mere child at the time.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “I was not much more.”

  “I didn’t realize you had been at Luenda.”

  “I wasn’t a part of the Circle at the time, of course. I was far too young. I very nearly never became any older.”

  “It was magic, obviously.”

  “Obviously. A Ryuven bolt.”

  “You were fortunate to survive.”

  Again, the half smile. “You think?”

  Ariana’s chest tightened. “I don’t...”

  He sat forward and laid the open book on the table. “I’m very interested in your plant. I wish you’d brought a better specimen. This could be logorinum, or it could be dall sweetbud. Do you know what that is?”

  “It’s a valuable medicinal plant, now gathered to extinction or near extinction.” Ariana was grateful that she could answer promptly.

  His eyebrows rose slightly. “And logorinum?”

  “I don’t know it.”

  “That’s because it is nearly worthless. It makes a passable seasoning if one’s garden is otherwise empty.” He frowned at the leaves.

  “This was used in medicine,” Ariana said. “Does that suggest that it might be dall sweetbud?”

  His eyes shifted, though the rest of him remained still. “That does suggest such.”

  Ariana’s pulse quickened. If the Ryuven had dall sweetbud—if they had such a valuable commodity, it could be used to open trade...

  “Where did you find this?”

  “It was given to me.”

  “By whom? From where?”

  Ariana hesitated. All knew she had been to the Ryuven world, of course, but was it safe to mention their medicines? Did she want to reveal yet that they had precious dall sweetbud?

  Taev Callahan sensed her indecision. “You wonder why I ask. I see no harm in explaining to you: I want the same advancement you seek.” He sat back. “I am the Indigo, as you know. And that is not at first any great surprise, as I am young. Nearly as young as you. But I have been a part of the Circle for much longer than you have, my Black sister, and even after Addison Esparaciana was taken by the Ryuven, I was not advanced to Indigo until you were admitted as the Black.”

  Ariana listened uncomfortably. What had this to do with her plants?

  “Oh, they were quick enough to take me into the Circle—anyone who survived Luenda was valuable, after all, and at times we’ve been precious short of mages—but they’re not keen to advance me.” He turned his head, giving her a clear view of the scar. She wondered whether it was intentional. “No one could have survived such an injury. Anyone who did must therefore be a tapper right out of children’s tales, or some other monster. Regardless of what he himself says on the matter.”

  Ariana shifted uncomfortably. “And you think discovering dall sweetbud will change what they think?”

  He looked back at her and shrugged. “It can’t hurt. Dall sweetbud would be an esteemed find, indeed.” His blue eyes seemed to hold hers.

  A man who identified a panacea and shared it with the world could not be a monster. But Ariana did not say this aloud.

  Taev Callahan leaned forward. “Where did you obtain it? I will help you to confirm it.”

  He could not invade the Ryuven world in search of it. “I’m sorry, but I can’t get more. I brought it with me from the Ryuven.”

  “The Ryuven?” He made a sour face. “What do they need of it? They have magic to heal them.”

  “Thank you for your help,” she said, standing and brushing the leaves into a pile again. “I appreciate it.”

  “Be careful of that,” he advised. “You have there enough, if it is indeed dall sweetbud, for a fever tea. It will go far if you guard it.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.” She went to the door and hesitated, anxious to leave him but feeling oddly sorry for him. He didn’t have to tell her why he wanted the plant.

  “Goodbye.” He gave her a bow of his head.

  Ariana stood outside his door, bag of herbs in her hand. Long minutes passed, and she did not walk away.

  The conversation had been intriguing, but not conclusive. It had distracted her, but accomplished nothing. What would be her next step? She couldn’t do anything more until she knew if the herb was dall sweetbud. There was no point to delaying.

  She knocked on the door.

  Taev Callahan did not look pleased to be so immediately disturbed, but his expression lightened when he recognized Ariana. “Well, our little Black sister and her herbs,” he said in a tone which managed to be not quite condescending. “Back again so soon?”

  “I need to know if it’s dall sweetbud,” Ariana said bluntly. “And if it is, I’m going to get more of it.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “How would you do that?”

  “I’d go back for it.”

  His mocking skepticism returned. “You can cross the between-worlds?”

  Ariana hesitated. “Not myself. But... if the shield should fail, if something happened and if Ryuven should come here, I would have him carry me back.”

  Now she had actually shocked him. “Carry you—but, my lady mage, he would as likely kill you.”

  “Not if I bargained with him.”

  He stared at her. “How little success may make one confident. At any rate, come inside, and let’s test this plant of yours.”

  She seated herself at the table while he went to a cabinet and began browsing among vials and canisters. “Do you believe this is dall sweetbud?” he asked, his back to her.

  She nodded before realizing he couldn’t see her. “I think it must be.”

  He tipped a powder into a cup, poured a bit of liquid from a nearby pitcher over it, and sloshed it casually. “Then drink this.”

  She looked at the cup. “What is it?”

  “It’s a... purgative stimulant.” He smiled with arrogant satisfaction. “You’ll feel the effects within a few minutes. Then you’ll take a tea of your specimen, and if it’s dall sweetbud, you’ll be fine again in another half hour or so.”

  She stared at him. “And if it’s not?”

  “Then you’ll pass a miserable night, but it won’t be fatal. Though there might be moments when you think that would be simpler.”

  She looked back at the cup. “And if it is dall sweetbud, then I’ll be fine and we’ll know the Ryuven have it.”

  “Yes.”

  She took a slow breath. “I hope this doesn’t taste vile.”

  It wasn’t as disgusting as she feared, but she imagined that it began to curdle as it reached her stomach. That was only her mind’s trick, of course; it couldn’t really react that quickly. She didn’t think there were any purely herbal, non-magical potions which could take effect in only—

  Her stomach gurgled and cramped abruptly. She folded her arms instinctively across her abdomen and glanced at Taev. “Is that right?”

  “Oh, was that too strong a dose? I might have forgotten to take your slight feminine form into account.” He grinned. “Sorry.”

  Ariana stared at him. “You—you unbelievable...” She couldn’t use the word bastard. “You miserable dog.”

  He shook his head as he turned for the pitcher. “No, my lady mage, I’m afraid it is you who will be miserable—and, your pardon, as sick as a dog.”

  Ariana curled her fingers as her stomach clenched, and she felt a moment of indignant rage. “I can’t believe that you—‍” Her bowel shifted and she froze with a sharp gasp.

  Taev nodded toward the back. “In the back corner—‍”

  She ran before he could finish speaking.

  There was only a curtain separating the front office from his rear workroom, and she barely had time to close it before she dove for the homely but serviceable relief pot in the corner. Why did Taev Callahan have a privy in his workroom?

  Her gut spasmed and she folded on the pot, feeling equal parts embarrassment, discomfort,
and fury. And then with handfuls of robe crumpled in her fists, she felt her stomach heave in a different way, and a new fear shot through her.

  The base of the curtain lifted, and an enameled bowl rattled across the floor toward her. “You’ll want that in a moment,” came Taev’s indifferent voice.

  Ariana seized the bowl and vomited, her innards roiling and twisting. For a long moment she could do nothing but squat and vomit. The hanging curtain was far too thin.

  Horrid, worthless, detestable, beastly man...

  The curtain shifted and the Indigo Mage began to enter. “I’ve got—‍”

  “Get out!” shrieked Ariana, her face hot with sickness and humiliation.

  He withdrew, but he did not leave. “I have the infusion. Do you want the dall sweetbud?”

  She gritted her teeth, sour with puke. “Leave it. I’ll get it.”

  “If you like.” He brushed the curtain aside at the base and left a cup of dark liquid. “It should steep a few more minutes for full potency.”

  “Louse! Skunk! Why didn’t you tell me it needed time to prepare? I could have waited before taking the first one!”

  “You didn’t ask,” came the reply, and she could almost see the casual lift of his shoulders.

  She moaned and rubbed at her watering eyes. If she lived through this, she would plot something truly awful for Taev Callahan.

  During a moment of reprieve she eased to her hands and knees and crawled to the cup. Sweet Holy One, I beg you, let this be dall sweetbud. Her hands trembled as she lifted the cup, and she had to close her eyes and breathe slowly for a moment before she could calm her gagging and belching to swallow it.

  It had a flat, peculiar taste, or perhaps that was just her impression after being ill. She had little time to think on it before scrambling back to the pot.

  That curtain wasn’t nearly heavy enough. Misbegotten cur. “How long will it take?” she called hoarsely.

  “Until it begins to work? Perhaps half an hour or so, if it is indeed dall sweetbud.”

  I’ll kill him. I’ll transmute his blood to acid and pour maggots into his ears and invert a shield about him so that he can’t even wriggle.

  Ariana’s stomach lurched again and she reached for the enameled bowl.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  ARIANA COULD NOT STOP shivering violently. Every few minutes, borborygmus and dry heaves took her, but she had nothing left to vomit. Taev assured her the infusion of what she desperately hoped was dall sweetbud would be absorbed through her mouth and throat, so it would work despite the emetic—if it worked.

  It had to be dall sweetbud. It had to be. She didn’t think she could face a full night of this.

  She lay on the floor, folded in half, her arms clenched over her stomach. Her muscles felt like water, but somehow her body kept trying to heave or expel more. She could only shiver and moan.

  How long had it been since she took the dall sweetbud? He had promised half an hour. What if they were wrong, and it was only logorinum?

  A spasm shook her and she wrenched upright, spitting.

  “I didn’t think you had anything left in you.” Taev stepped over her and set a fresh bowl on the floor. “Here’s this, if you need it.”

  She wanted to curse at him, but she hadn’t the strength.

  A chair creaked behind her as it took his weight. “Maybe you vomited too soon after drinking it. It might not have had time to be absorbed.”

  “You... you said...” she croaked.

  “I know, I said it would be absorbed immediately. But I was trusting books, not experience. And that was an old sample, dried and stored with other herbs. Maybe it needs more time. Maybe it isn’t dall sweetbud after all.”

  Maybe you gave me too much of the first. But it was too much effort to talk.

  “Do you know how long it’s been?”

  “Eternity,” she breathed.

  He chuckled. “Nearer an hour or so.”

  Twice as long... It wasn’t working.

  He rose. “If it’s not going to work, I’ll mix something else for you.”

  She swallowed, hating the taste of her mouth. “How long?”

  He hesitated. “Oh, not long.”

  Suspicion gave her strength, and she turned her head to eye him. “How long?”

  He glanced away. “I can give you an antidote, but it will need a few hours to take effect.”

  A few hours...!

  “It’s a long time to have your stomach wambling, I’ll grant, but it’s better than waiting until this wears itself... What was that? Something about a cockroach?”

  She clenched her fists, fighting nausea. “Get it.”

  She could hear Taev working behind her, grinding something fresh. How had she come to this? Why had she trusted Taev, when even the Circle did not welcome him wholeheartedly?

  But he hadn’t quite lied to her. Not yet, anyway. And at some point while she lay miserable on the floor, he had taken away the reeking pot and bowl. She was further humiliated by that, but she thought the task at least partial retribution.

  She wished she could simply wake when it was all over.

  “Try this,” came Taev’s voice from across the room. He walked toward her. “We’ll hope it stays down long enough to have an effect.”

  She nodded weakly, pushing herself upright. “I should think so. I haven’t vomited for a while.”

  He looked at her curiously. “No. No, you haven’t.” He tipped his head in his usual manner. “How long has it been?”

  A spark of hope flared. “Since you started making whatever that is.”

  “That’s a quarter hour. I had to time the infusion of ginger-tassel.” He crouched beside her, holding the cup but not offering it. “And you haven’t been—‍”

  “Voiding,” she interrupted, trying to give him a crushing glare but disappointingly certain it didn’t have the impact she wanted. “It’s humiliating enough, thank you. No, not in a while.”

  He pursed his lips. “I gave you enough bilgewort that you should have been sick all night, even empty. Perhaps the dall sweetbud is working, after all.”

  “Bilgewort?”

  He shrugged. “That’s not its true name, of course, but it’s a colorful term.” He smiled crookedly. “But it does seem our experiment was successful.”

  “Successful.” She took a slow, shuddering breath. “When I can walk again, you had better run.”

  He laughed. “Come now, you’ll be fine by this time tomorrow, and we’ve learned something wonderful. This is nothing to upset you.”

  “Nothing to upset—! Why wasn’t it you, then, balancing on a pot with a bowl in your lap?”

  “Because it was your question, not mine, and because I am the botanist and herbalist who could mix the remedy. But mostly, because I am the senior mage, of course.” He grinned and stood, taking away the unnecessary remedy. “I’ll bring you some water. We’ll save celebrating with wine for another time.”

  She glared at him.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  SUNLIGHT STRUCK SHIANAN as he emerged from the cover of the trees, making him wince and squint. His stride did not break. A soldier did not slow for things such as changing light.

  He had chosen a route to run on his third day here, needing some outlet for his nervous energy. Running gave him a way to work his taut muscles without the need for an opponent, and he would find few fighters capable of challenging him here.

  He did not know how many leagues he covered. He ran until he was too winded to continue, when he slowed to walk and regain his breath. Then he ran again. He ran through peasants’ fields, past mills powered by streams or slaves, over greens where geese and pigs fed while tended by staring children, through unnaturally straight herb gardens. Hours passed before he made his way back to the large house of warm golden travertine. The over-sized oaken doors were open and he went directly inside.

  Kraden was directing barrels to one storeroom or another when Shianan passed through, rubbing an arm
over his damp face. The majordomo noted his arrival. “Good afternoon, my lord. Lisbeth! Something to drink for the master!”

  Shianan waved away the ale the maid indicated first, nodding when she offered water instead. Fhure had excellent water, sweet from a spring which burbled forth in the cellar of the main house and then out through a channel into the yard. Shianan liked the taste of it.

  It was good that he liked the water, for there was little enough else to like about Fhure. He had never really visited his county, as he had never been able to spare the time from his duties, and though the servants were obedient enough, even obsequious, he thought he detected an underlying resentment. He understood it—they had been long neglected—and he thought he could address it, had he the mind. But he could not face the challenge of another disapproving eye, and so he largely ignored them, peremptorily greeting the steward and promising curtly that they would go over the management at some later date. He went woodenly through the days, eating and drinking, pacing the corridors and exploring his property, running through his fields and the village down the hill from the main house.

  He had heard nothing from Alham, not from Septime nor Ariana. He had not told them where he would go. He thought it would be simple enough to guess, if they wished, and he more than half hoped they wouldn’t.

  Tears of frustration burned at his eyes as emotion rose anew. He had tried his best, and it had not been enough. In the end, his desperate efforts to please were meaningless. He had offered his earnest service and received nothing in exchange. It was a market he would not enter again.

  He blinked against the treacherous tears, feigning another wipe of his sweaty forehead to rub them away. Then he lifted a hand, bringing the maid. “I’m filthy,” he said shortly. “I need a bath.”

  “I’ll have one prepared, your lordship.”

  MARU BENT OVER THE table, observing the tiny structures Tamaryl was tracing in the broken crystal. “It cycles endlessly?” he asked skeptically.

  “Not endlessly, of course,” Tamaryl said. “It enhances, back and forth like a magnifying echo, and I think enough to allow us to leap across the between-worlds. We can use it for more than just harmonizing against the shield. The problem is, the fracture produces too much refraction, spilling energy out. It’s an enormous energy sink to start—that’s why the Shard is useful to the Circle, but not to a single mage—and to be truthful, I don’t think I can generate enough power.”