by Maggie Furey
Melisanda had gone back to conversing with Lameron. ‘That new patient – what a mess! It’s taking all we’ve got to keep him alive, let alone mend all the damage.’
‘It’s just not right,’ Lameron protested. ‘All for some stupid foreign stranger. According to Yinze he’s a real bad—’
Melisanda cut him off with a sharp look and an upraised hand. Clearly, this was not something to be discussed in front of new students. ‘Our job is to heal,’ she rebuked him, ‘not to make arbitrary distinctions between the people we should be helping. He was sent to us because we’re the best; the only ones who have a chance of saving him. And if in the end we can’t – well, it won’t be for the lack of trying.’
Having quelled Lameron, she turned back to Haslen and Chiannala. ‘I’m sorry we’re all too busy to give you a proper welcome, but we have an emergency on our hands. I’ll show you around, however, and let you find your feet. After that – well, the way things stand at present, you might just end up being thrown in at the deep end, but don’t worry. We might stretch you a little, but we won’t ask you to do anything beyond your capabilities.’
Chiannala smiled inwardly at Haslen’s sudden worried look.
Melisanda was attempting to smile too, though it did little to penetrate the strain and worry on her face. ‘Brynne and Haslen, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Well, follow me and we’ll get started.’ With her two students at her heels, she went outside.
There was a lot more to the Healers’ complex than Chiannala had expected. Within the oval of the tall, enclosing walls were four long buildings, each with two storeys, set in a diamond-shaped configuration around a flagged courtyard. In the centre a fountain made a soothing background murmur as it cascaded into its pool in delicate arches of jewelled spray. Two of the buildings, including the one they had just left, were given over to housing and treatment of the sick and infirm. Behind them was a sunny garden with smooth lawns, bright and cheerful flowerbeds, sheltering trees and comfortable benches set at frequent intervals.
‘I’ll show you those areas later,’ Melisanda said. ‘First, I’ll take you round the other two, which are dedicated to the study and refinement of our Healing magic.’
She gestured to the building on her left, and held the door open for them to enter. ‘This is where we work in conjunction with those members of the Luen of Spellweavers who have an inclination towards our work. They consult with our own people to improve our Healing spells.’ She opened the first of a row of doors in a long corridor, and Chiannala saw a number of tables in the spacious room beyond. There was a pair of Wizards at each of them, working with crystals of different sizes, colours and types, which were all glowing brightly as magic was poured into them. The air crackled and hummed with the build-up of energy, and Chiannala could feel the waves of power coursing through her from all the way across the room.
‘Here, for instance,’ Melisanda spoke softly so as not to interrupt the workers’ concentration, ‘we have teams consisting of a Healer and a Spellweaver, investigating the use of crystals to amplify our healing powers. It’s beginning to look as though certain crystals are most beneficial for particular conditions.’ Closing the door, she opened another further down the hallway, taking them down the centre of a long room divided on either side into open-fronted cubicles. Each one held a patient in a bed, and each was bathed in a different coloured light: blue, gold, green, purple, pink and red. Again, there was a Healer and Spellweaver pair in each cubicle, generating the radiant energy.
‘In this room we’re investigating the healing properties, if any, of different colours,’ Melisanda explained. ‘We’re working with volunteers from the infirmary, and getting some very interesting results.’ She showed them through several more rooms, some with Wizards working on various samples of blood and tissue, others with various combinations of Healers working in concert to intensify their powers.
When Haslen and Chiannala had seen all there was to see, Melisanda led them to the next building, which had rows of glasshouses leading back from the central section, and an extensive herb garden behind. Here the rooms contained Wizards brewing, infusing, distilling and concocting various combinations of herbs, or working on individual plants to isolate and strengthen their healing powers. ‘We work here alongside the Luen of Nurturers,’ Melisanda explained. ‘Earth magic and Healing powers have always had a very strong link, and nowhere is that more evident than here.’
When they had seen all there was to see, she took them into the third building. ‘This is where we keep our own library of records, though obviously a copy of each is also sent to the Academy archives. We also have the studies of Tinagen and his four senior Healers, and the day infirmary, where people bring any minor problems they can’t handle at home with basic healing spells. There is also a rest area and a refectory for the Healers who are working in the complex.’
Quickly she whisked them from room to room, and then indicated a covered walkway. ‘This leads back to the main infirmary building where we started, but before I show you our main infirmary areas, we’ll stop here for our midday meal in the refectory.’
‘Already?’ Haslen said.
‘Take a look at the sun,’ Melisanda said. ‘It’s well past midday. Time has a way of rushing by when you’re preoccupied.’
‘And when you’re enjoying yourself,’ the young man said shyly. ‘It’s been a really fascinating morning; there’s been so much to see. I never realised just how much there was to being a Healer.’
Melisanda favoured him with a dazzling smile. ‘Oh, I think you’ll do just fine, Haslen. I can see you fitting right in here.’
She didn’t say that about Chiannala.
Soon they were in the busy refectory and settled at a table with plates of food. Thick hot soup with lentils and vegetables was followed by a choice of roast meats and vegetables, with fruit and little cakes and taillin to fill in any spaces. Melisanda herself ate like a starving wolf, putting away an amazing amount for one so slender and delicate of build. When she finally pushed her plate aside and reached for her taillin and a cake, she happened to look up and notice the astonished expressions that they tried and failed to hide. ‘Sorry,’ she said with a shrug. ‘I don’t usually make such a pig of myself, but I’ve been working all night without a break. This is my first food since yesterday evening. You’ll have noticed that we eat well in here. That’s because Healing spells sap a great deal of energy from the practitioner, and it’s important that we replenish it regularly, or we risk burning out. This is one of most important things you must learn here. The greatest danger a Healer faces is burnout. It happens when you throw so much of your energy into the patient that you don’t have enough left to sustain your own life. And if you’re unwary, unwise, or sometimes just too emotionally committed, it can happen more easily than you think . . .’
Chiannala was barely listening. Throughout her tour of the Luen, she had been aware of an uneasy atmosphere. Healers not immediately occupied were whispering to one another in corners or standing around in murmuring groups, some with worry, some with anger and frustration, and in some cases even fear, on their faces. Something was wrong here – that much was plain. Something that was being kept from lowly students. She wondered how she could find out. She had a nose for secrets – there was no telling when it might come in handy to have information that someone didn’t want her to know.
Melisanda sat back and sipped her taillin. ‘Now, before we continue, do either of you have any questions about what you’ve seen so far?’
Chiannala was desperate to ask outright what was bothering everyone, but didn’t dare; not on her first day. In any case, she knew she wouldn’t get a straight answer.
Haslen pushed back his untidy hair and nervously raised his hand. ‘What will we be expected to do here? At first, I mean.’
‘For the first few days you’ll mostly be observing the rest of us work.’ Melisanda gave him a tired smile. ‘Don’t worry – unless there’s a desperate emergency
we’ll ease you in gently, and you’ll be supervised and helped at all times. We’ll put you with a mentor and you’ll accompany them on their daily work, fetching and carrying for them and lending them an extra little boost of power when needed. They’ll introduce you to the simpler, hands-on magic as they work, and of course you’ll also have lectures on the theory from the senior—’
‘I thought you said we would be thrown in at the deep end,’ Chiannala interrupted sharply.
Melisanda gave her a hard, appraising look. ‘I said if an emergency should arise you might be thrown at the deep end, and in this place there is always that possibility. If we have a serious crisis we may need all hands to help out – even if only temporarily. But had you been listening, Brynne, you would have heard me say that unless there is such an emergency, you’ll be eased in gently.’
Her voice was winter-cold as she continued. ‘One of the most important things you must learn while training in Healing magic – any sort of magic really, but this discipline in particular, since it deals so directly with life and death – is to listen carefully. We can’t spare the time to keep repeating ourselves to lazy or careless students. Remember, any sloppiness or mistakes on your part could easily cause the death of another Wizard.’
With that she pushed her chair back and walked out of the refectory, heading to the covered walkway that led to the main building and leaving Chiannala, whose face was burning in mortification, fuming in her wake.
Melisanda has no right to speak to me like that. Who does she think she is, the arrogant cow! I have a right to ask questions and voice my opinions, don’t I? It’s not even as if I wanted to be here in the first place, studying her stupid Healing magic.
She didn’t realise how loudly she was thinking, until they reached the main infirmary building and Melisanda, with one hand on the door latch, swung back to face her. ‘You know, Brynne, I just can’t understand you. Only a few months ago, when you came to the Academy for your pre-training assessments, you professed a tremendous interest in Healing and said you couldn’t wait to study it further, yet now you don’t want anything to do with it. What has happened between then and now? You seem to have done a complete about-turn on your earlier wishes.’
She took a deep breath, controlling her annoyance. ‘Be that as it may, I know you don’t want to be here now. You’ve been making that perfectly clear ever since the assignments were given out. But at this stage of your life you need to be broadening your horizons and learning that magic, at the bottom of it, is all one and the same, and though we’ve broken it up into Luens for our own convenience there are numerous crossover points. I’ve shown you today, for instance, how we work closely with other disciplines – in this case the Nurturers and the Spellweavers – and we sometimes work with others too. It’s all knowledge, it’s all magic, and at this point in your life it’s all adding to your experience and your skills. You have years and years ahead of you to specialise, and narrow your focus, but it’s just too early for you to do that now.’
Unexpectedly she smiled, and it was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. ‘Don’t think I can’t remember what it’s like. When you first come here it’s all so exciting. You want pursue your particular interests, to devour them all in one gulp. Don’t worry – you’ll get your chance to do exactly that as you grow older, but initially we can show you other interests, other options; skills that you didn’t know you were good at, or hadn’t even considered before. It’s our job here at the Academy to open your eyes to all the amazing possibilities of magic, and teach you the basics of each. Only then can you make an informed choice of which aspects you want to pursue. Only then can you call yourself a proper Wizard. Don’t close yourself off to all those possibilities, all that potential, Brynne. You’ll be missing so much.’ Without waiting for a reply, she turned and went into the infirmary, leaving Chiannala, for once, without anything to say.
As they toured the main infirmary area, with its airy white rooms and comfortable beds, Chiannala could not help but be aware of the air of subdued activity around the place. Despite the fact that everything they could see was calm and under control, there was a muted bustle in the background, with people rushing back and forth. Was this something to do with the uneasy atmosphere she had sensed? Somehow, she got the feeling that it was not. These people were busy and purposeful; more concerned and preoccupied than afraid and frustrated. It seemed to Chiannala that this must be one of the emergencies Melisanda had talked about; probably the mystery patient that Lameron had mentioned earlier. Her curiosity burned hot and bright, and she longed to be given a chance to participate, to prove herself to these Healers; all the more so because whatever the secret was, she wanted to be in on it. Knowledge was power, and she wanted all the power she could get.
While the Healer was showing them around the infirmary Chiannala kept a careful eye on all the comings and goings, and noticed that most of the activity centred around a door at the far end of the right-hand wing. Whenever she tried to casually drift in that direction, however, the eagle-eyed Melisanda deflected her with a seemingly casual comment or question and steered her away – until suddenly the door burst open, and a harried-looking Healer came out. ‘Melisanda, can you come at once? He’s fading on us again – and without Tinagen—’
‘I’ll be right there.’ Melisanda turned to Haslen and Chiannala. ‘I’m sorry, but you see how it is. You can go early today, but be back in good time tomorrow morning, ready to start your proper training.’ She hurried away from them without a backward glance. Clearly, she had already dismissed them from her mind.
Chiannala didn’t care. After Melisanda’s lecture, she thought it might be wise to stay out of the way for a while, and not be seen hanging about trying to pry into matters that were clearly (according to the Healers) none of her business. There would be time enough to find out what she wanted to know, and right now, her only wish was to get out of this place and back to her room, where she could be alone. Melisanda’s lecture to her had stung, of that there was no doubt, but it had also contained a lot of things to ponder and brood upon. Haslen wanted to linger with her and talk about their day, but she brushed him off as quickly as she could, abandoning all pretence at tact or good manners, and ignoring the hurt looks he was sending after her as she hurried away to her own little sanctuary. Not that that there seemed to be much peace there at present. Normally she would have put the unexpected free time to good use in the library, or practising spells in her room, but today she found herself oddly distracted, unable to settle to anything while the Healer’s words were still echoing in her head.
‘At this stage of your life you need to be broadening your horizons and learning that magic, at the bottom of it, is all one and the same.’
‘It’s all adding to your experience and your skills.’
‘It’s our job here at the Academy to open your eyes to all the amazing possibilities of magic, and teach you the basics of each.’
‘Don’t close yourself off to all those possibilities, all that potential.’
‘You have years and years ahead of you to specialise, and narrow your focus.’
After pacing for a time she went to lean on her windowsill, and stood there looking out over the city. Nightfall found her there still, staring out unseeing as the lamps were kindled, glittering in the twilight all over Tyrineld.
She was chilled to the core by the thought of how close she’d come to having her deception discovered. How could she possibly have known that Brynne had professed such an ardent interest in becoming a Healer? That the wretch had spent her assessment at the Academy choosing the absolutely last thing that Chiannala would want to do? It was the farm girl’s revenge from beyond her watery grave.
It was all very well for Melisanda to talk about years, she thought. Though she had to admit that there was good sense in the Healer’s advice, she finally admitted to herself the fear, deep in her most secret heart, that she wouldn’t have time to waste broadening her horizons and ex
ploring her options. She had to learn all she could as quickly as possible; to make the most of every opportunity, every precious moment, just in case—
Her thoughts pulled up short. The truth hit her as though she had slammed into a brick wall.
Just in case this was all taken away from her.
Just in case they penetrated her deception and discovered who and what she was.
A despised half-breed with the taint of mortal blood.
A murderer.
An impostor who had no right to be at the Academy.
She tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep, finding no respite from her fears, and was back at the Healers’ complex the next morning before Haslen had even finished breakfast. At some point during the night she had come to a decision: if Healing was the only magic she could learn right now, then by all Creation she would learn it. She realised now that by kicking so hard against the choices her mentors had made for her, she had only made them suspicious, and brought herself to their attention. And of course, stupid Brynne wanting to be a Healer hadn’t helped. Well, she thought, she would just see about that. Once she had spent some time with the Healers, it should be easy enough to invent reasons why it just wasn’t for her after all.
The idea of pretending to be no good at it never even crossed her mind. Chiannala was determined to excel at whatever she tried. Her pride would permit no less.
14
~
TURN AGAIN
The high tower room, tucked away in the most isolated, least used part of Hellorin’s sprawling palace, was a far cry from Tiolani’s spacious, luxurious chambers. The walls were stone, cold, stark and unadorned, and a single mat of fraying woven straw was all that protected her bare feet from the chilly flagstone floor. The bed was hard and narrow, and a flimsy wooden chair and table were the only furnishings. Across every surface, floor, walls, ceiling and even the window glass and the door, she could faintly discern the silver shimmer of spells set in place against the use of magic. There would be no apporting in or out of this chamber, Cordain had made absolutely sure of that.
