by Frank Morin
Connor said, “Please keep the fact that there might be a Builder threshold secret. We don’t know for sure, and it might offer us a potential huge advantage against the queen.”
“Especially since she thinks most of the Builders are dead, or at least the most important of us,” Hamish added.
Kilian made a calming gesture as several of the group began asking questions at the same time. “This is all new. We’ll explore these concepts and try to figure out the advantages and potential dangers to these revelations. For now Connor, tell us about the elements. What is Fire like?”
“He’s seems to be a lot like you,” Connor said, and Kilian smiled.
Hamish said, “Figures. You’re so old, it’s probably one of those less understood effects of elemental powers that they start affecting your face.”
“Except Kilian also walks with water. He doesn’t look like a regal, beautiful woman,” Verena chuckled.
Hamish grinned. “Glad you picked the right mentor. Could have gotten weird otherwise. I think we need more sweetbread if we’re going to start delving into deep questions of the arcane, though.”
He glanced at Ivor hopefully. Ivor made a grand gesture toward the little stash of sweetbreads on his desk. “Help yourself, but there’s not enough thinking food in that jar for all of us.”
“We’d better order in more,” Hamish suggested.
Shona gave him an exasperated look. “Merkland was just half destroyed by a summoned army, remember? We barely have enough kitchens working to feed everyone as it is. We don’t have buckets of extra sweetbreads.”
Hamish turned to Ilse with a reproachful look. “I thought you said you were bringing critical supplies.”
She chuckled and raised one eyebrow, as if challenging him to discount her efforts. He was wise enough to sigh and settle back into his seat with Ivor’s jar of sweetbreads in his lap.
Connor briefly recounted what he’d heard from the elementals and described each of them in turn. Everyone listened in rapt fascination. Kilian in particular looked thrilled to learn about them, but also troubled.
“So Water and Fire have forbidden attraction?” Anika asked, winking at Rory. “I am liking them more than before.”
“I never imagined Earth tempted by Air, but they are opposites and there’s always an attraction between opposites,” Ilse acknowledged with a little smile.
Connor loved seeing that. She’d smiled far too little in recent months. She was too focused on fulfilling her duty and protecting her people. She considered it the ultimate way of honoring her late husband.
“We will have to discuss this new discovery in depth, and find Evander. His research vault might offer important insights now that we know some new questions to ask,” Kilian said.
Connor liked that idea. He asked, “How about it, Captain Ilse? Want to be the first test case to see if my healing affinity is really better?”
She smiled, her eyes twinkling with challenge like they had so often in the past. “Let’s do this.”
61
Un-deadly-captain-ish Behavior
Shona looked like she couldn’t decide if she should be relieved or insulted that he’d chosen Ilse first. Connor was just glad she didn’t protest. She’d lost her hair more than once, usually because of Connor, and it would eventually regrow. Ilse had fashioned a marvelous summoning to overcome her handicap, but as powerful as she was with earth, she could not permanently heal herself.
Now maybe Connor could.
He felt eager and nervous at the same time. The queen’s miraculous healing abilities still seemed beyond human comprehension, and the thought that he might be able to duplicate at least in part that same level of healing awed him. At the same time, if he failed, how would Ilse react?
She had dealt with her crippling injury with such indomitable bravery she’d inspired everyone who heard the tale. Now he was giving her hope, but if he failed, would the new loss be the stone that broke the cart? He doubted anything could really break her spirit, but felt terrified that he might be the cause of new pain for her.
It was too late to turn back now, so he vowed to find a way. He was a Tallan-grouted fool for offering to heal such an injury without practicing first, but all he had to do was find a way to pull off a miracle.
He wished he’d snagged one of those sweetbreads before Hamish consumed them all.
Connor kept his worries from his face as Ilse adjusted her chair and released her summoned limbs. He had grown so used to seeing her legs and hips encased in that thin sheathing of living earth that it came as a shock when it melted away to reveal her withered, twisted legs and crushed lower body. Although he and other healers had worked hard to help her, had stripped away her pain and done what they could to fix the broken flesh, he still shuddered to see again the extent of her injuries.
Since she always wore that concealing covering of earth, she only wore a pair of short pants that barely extended halfway down her thighs. A tiny flush of embarrassment rose in her cheeks. They had all seen her injury, though. They knew it, and the fact that she had risen above it to join in battle again against Harley eclipsed any pity anyone might feel for her. She was one of the bravest women Connor had ever met.
He tapped sandstone as easily as thought, crouched beside her, and laid one hand on one withered thigh. He might not need direct contact any more. The queen had altered people around her without physical contact, but he didn’t need any additional challenges, and he suspected the contact would help her understand what he was doing.
Her legs felt cool, the atrophied muscles having shrunk almost to nonexistence. Her rough scar tissue felt hard, while the rest of her skin hung a little loose over her bones, which he clearly felt underneath.
Connor cast his sandstone healing senses into her legs like he had many times before, and the bones, muscles, and skin sharpened into view in his mind. As he extended his feelers into her hips and spine, he clearly felt the broken connections that had defied his best attempts to heal.
Now as he tapped sandstone he willed himself to connect with both the red and green frequencies at the same time. He had never been able to consciously manipulate which power sources he drew from before. Now the dual connection came easily, and he felt that thrill of discovery so similar to when he established new affinities.
As soon as he connected with both red and green power, he felt a deeper pool of healing available than he ever had before. It was as if he had always worked with sandstone healing by sipping only the top of a huge goblet of power. Now he could plunge his hand into the goblet and absorb it directly through his skin like he did with primary affinities.
As soon as he connected to that deeper source of healing, the warmth of sandstone intensified into penetrating heat. Ilse gasped, eyes wide in astonishment. “I feel something!”
Connor poured that heat into the broken bones and along her spine, willing the pieces back together. His concentration deepened as his sandstone senses consumed his mind. It was as if he stepped into Ilse’s spine, with the broken connections clearly visible to him like snapped branches of a tree ripped to pieces by a mighty storm.
He seized those pieces and fused them back together, welding them with the heat of pure energy. As he worked, he sensed how the pieces needed to connect, and quickly realigned them.
But Ilse had lost a lot of mass. The queen had changed people’s sizes and shapes so it should be possible to build new flesh. Connor willed her muscles to rebuild, to return to their former size. The healing power flowed through him and fused to her bones. In his healer sight, it appeared like glowing embers that he could mold into whatever shape he envisioned.
Under his hands, he felt her skin ripple as the muscles grew and reformed, that pure energy converting into living flesh. It was a marvelous experience that awed him.
So he continued on with renewed optimism, forming muscles, repairing bone, reshaping her legs from top to bottom. While he worked, he noticed the healing energy shift subtly. It was
still pouring through him, then into her, but it seemed to flow down through his legs and hips, mimicking the work he was doing on Ilse. He sensed something getting drawn from deep inside of his own legs, a critical essence that he sensed was inaccessible to him before, but was vital to succeed in rebuilding such devastating injuries.
He didn’t yet understand what he was doing, didn’t comprehend what he was having to give to make the healing work, but he did not hesitate. The process didn’t hurt, and although something about it made him a little uneasy, he refused to hold back. Ilse had risked her life for him many times, had lost her husband and many of her troops and had been crushed almost to death fighting Harley. If he’d arrived to help her sooner, she might not have been hurt. Now he could help her, and no matter the cost, he would.
Connor tried to ignore his worries and focus on the thrill of helping her. The elements had confirmed he knew less than he thought he did about his abilities. That didn’t bother him as much as it probably should have. As long as it worked.
As the final pieces came together, the entire whole fused into her system and Ilse gasped again, her body rocked with a violent spasm that almost shook her out of her seat. She convulsed right up out of her chair, stumbling, but caught herself and straightened on quivering legs. Her own flesh and blood! Looking down at her reformed body, she cried out in joy, with tears streaming down her face.
Connor blew out a breath, feeling tired but jubilant. “I guess maybe it worked.”
Ilse pulled him to his feet and embraced him hard enough that he nearly needed to tap granite. Ilse sobbed in that un-deadly-captain-ish way she had sometimes shown around her husband, making Connor feel distinctly uncomfortable. He was overjoyed that he could help her, but he definitely looked forward to her returning to her normal unflappableness.
Hamish commented, “Probably won’t let you cut to the front of the lunch line any more.”
Ilse laughed and released Connor. She danced around the room, exulting in her restored health, hugging everyone, even the Mhortair who she didn’t even know. They accepted it with stoic good grace.
Verena hugged Connor tight and gave him a tender kiss. “Well done, Connor.”
Hamish slapped him on the back, grinning. “I’m very impressed.”
“You think I couldn’t do it?” Connor challenged, although he too was grinning.
“It’s not that. It’s just, Ilse’s got some of the toughest looking legs I’ve ever seen on a woman. I bet she could squat lift the entire palace.”
Ilse heard him. She glanced down at her legs, and of course everyone else did too. Her short pants were indeed straining to contain her new impressive thighs. Every muscle stood out in perfect detail, even though she did not seem to be tapping granite. She laughed again and saluted Connor.
He shrugged. “Maybe I got a little carried away.”
Then he felt a wave of weariness clobber him. His legs buckled and he collapsed into Ilse’s recently vacated chair. His head swam, and he nearly fell to the floor. Verena and Hamish caught his shoulders. She started speaking urgently to him, but he found it hard to hear. The words sounded like distant buzzing, and he groaned.
Instinctively, he reached for granite to reinforce his muscles, but his affinity also felt distant and weak, almost as bad as that time Aifric had hit him with gabbro, the secret Mhortair weakening powder that blocked all primary affinities.
The shock of not feeling granite skitter up his arms struck him with far more fear than the momentary weakness, which was already passing. Others were gathering around, calling out questions about what had happened. Aifric dropped to her knees beside Connor and placed a hand on his arm. He felt her healing power flicker through him, seeking the problem.
“I’m okay,” he assured them, but his voice sounded strained even to him, and he barely listened to their questions. He was too busy trying to figure out what had happened.
“You seem physically whole,” Aifric said.
Ilse dropped to her knees beside him, her expression worried. “What happened to you, Connor? Did you draw too deep?”
“I’m not sure.” He hated seeing the worry in her gaze, and he could not block her emotions, which seemed to boil off her. She felt a powerful sense of guilt that she’d caused him injury. He also sensed a fierce determination to protect him from harm. It was like a fire burning through her core, so intense he could not entirely block it.
“I’m fine. This is not your fault,” he told her, and felt relieved to sense her anxiety diminish.
“So what happened?” Kilian asked.
Connor glanced up at his friends. Their obvious concern touched him. “Give me a second.”
Granite still felt shaky and remote, so he tried basalt. Nothing. The connection was weaker than granite. His fear grew, and he switched to obsidian. He felt a flicker, and his mind accelerated briefly before fading again. The influx of obsidian-enhanced speed thinking helped, and he got an idea.
“You suffered a deep injury, Ilse. To heal you I had to draw upon some of my own strength. But it’s only temporary and it’s a price I’m more than willing to pay.”
Verena didn’t look convinced. “Kilian, you’ve probably seen your mother perform more miraculous healings than anyone. Has she exhibited symptoms like this?”
He hesitated for a moment, brows furrowed in thought as he reviewed his memories. “I don’t remember seeing such an overt reaction, but then again she had decades of practice before I was old enough to pay attention to things like that. Connor, do you sense any effect on your primary affinities?”
“Yes,” Connor exclaimed, surprised by the question. “How did you know?”
“My mother always favored the tertiaries, despite her cryptic warnings of dangers inherent in using them. I remember one time she brought Harley back from the brink of death. She’d suffered such trauma that even her incredible healing affinity was taxed beyond her abilities. My mother healed her, crafted a new body for her, and mentioned something like, ‘Good thing I didn’t need my primaries today.’“
Mistress Four said, “I have read notes from the First and Great One himself that suggested deep healing carried consequences, but his notes were pure conjecture.”
“You should have shared that conjecture with us before Connor tried this,” Verena said sharply.
Connor placed a calming hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. I would have done it anyway. Good thing I don’t need my primaries today.”
“Don’t start quoting the mad queen,” Verena said, then sighed and touched his face. “I’m glad you’re going to be okay.”
“Any other conjecture we should know about?” Shona asked.
Mistress Four hesitated before saying, “The rest made less sense. Something about a bridge and the price of humanity. Not even Mister One understood the reference.”
The reference to bridges was interesting. The elementals had mentioned bridges too. Connor sat back, enjoying Verena’s warm hand in his. He was already feeling a little better, although his legs still felt unusually weak. He didn’t want to worry Ilse so he said, “Give me a minute, and I’ll be fine.”
As everyone returned to their seats, Anika entered the room. Connor hadn’t even seen her leave. She carried a pair of uniform trousers, which Ilse gratefully accepted and donned. They were a little tight in the thigh, which only made Ilse smile again.
“Everything seems to work, right?” Connor asked Ilse to help draw attention away from himself.
“Better than even in my dreams,” she admitted with a wide smile, and a tear glinted in her eyes again. She blinked it away, which Connor appreciated. Seeing Ilse fully in control helped him feel like all was right with the world.
After another moment, Shona asked, “Connor, how are you feeling?”
He didn’t need chert to sense her impatient eagerness, but she suppressed the urge to ask. She was enough of a lady to know that it wasn’t appropriate to badger him for cosmetic fixes while they were still celebrating th
e miraculous healing of a dear friend. Especially since he’d weakened himself in the process.
“I’m feeling better, thanks, Shona. I appreciate it a lot.”
As he talked, Connor reached out to her with sandstone. He still felt unsteady, and he should probably wait, but he needed to understand how much healing might affect him, and to what degree. Ilse’s injury was deep and severe, Shona’s need cosmetic. Surely there was a difference. The queen had mastered advanced healing without severe consequences. He needed to master it too.
Besides, he really wanted to experience healing someone without first touching them. That was such an incredible ability, he couldn’t wait to try it. Shona’s charred hair and burned skin mapped clearly to his healing senses. Now that he understood the trick to drawing deeply from both power sources, it took only a moment to heal her scalp, restore the roots under the skin, and encourage them to begin to grow.
Thick, golden hair sprouted from Shona’s head. She absently reached a hand up to scratch as if feeling an itch, and gasped. Eyes wide with wonder, she snatched her hat away and felt her hair as it grew more than an inch every second. Connor noticed the healing power flow up around his own head before crossing over to Shona. His scalp itched, and he felt a powerful urge to check to see if his own hair started falling out.
He doubted it would. The queen had regrown Shona’s hair without losing her own, and this healing drew far less from him. It was barely a glimmer of loss. The excited chatter of the others faded away as they all turned to watch Shona’s gorgeous hair extend out from her head and cascade in a slow-motion waterfall.
“Connor, I thought you needed to rest,” Verena protested from her seat drawn close beside his.
“I need to understand the limits of my affinity,” he said, but she crossed her arms, looking displeased. He decided not to wonder if she was unhappy that he was taking more risks, or unhappy that he was helping Shona restore her famous hair. He could pick the thought from her mind, but really didn’t want to know.
