Children of the Healer

by Barbara Ann Wright

  Jania had found out about that last plan. She’d gotten to know Pool, had been almost friends before Pool was even a queen, and Pool had adopted some of Jania’s rebellious nature. She’d ended up splitting from the drushka in order to trade with the humans, though Pool wouldn’t say exactly how that split had come about. And Jania hadn’t written about any of it, taking all her knowledge about drushkan queens and their plots to her grave.

  And now the old drushka wanted Pool back, and it was clear they’d use the humans to get her.

  The whole situation made Cordelia long for someone to punch. “Any word on the missing two hundred?”

  “As far as people can remember, they were taken by the drushka.” Liam shook his head slowly. “Our drushkan scouts tell us there’s a trail into the swamp that’s easy to follow.”

  “We’d better move as soon as we can get our gear together.”

  He gave her a grin. “I knew you’d say that. But I was hoping you’d stay the night and rest.”

  She nodded. “Only packing today. I like that idea better than cleanup duty.”

  “You always were a slob,” he said, but the teasing didn’t seem to have much heart behind it. Now that they weren’t walking and talking about Gale’s problems, a pall seemed to settle over him.

  And after the way he’d spoken about her resting before leaving, she knew he wouldn’t be coming with her. He’d never been as interested in combat as her, and he had too much to do here. But even with all the progress he’d made in Gale, he still had this pinched, worried look in his eyes.

  “Tell me what’s wrong,” she said, leaving no room for denial. “Besides the obvious.”

  “It’s Shiv.”

  “Ah.” He got a lovelorn look she’d seen often enough. She wondered if part of him saw Shiv as he’d seen every other lover: only temporary.

  “She’s been distant, and Pool told me…”

  She waited, trying not to be impatient even as she thought of everything she had to put together for a swamp expedition.

  “When she healed Simon, Pool had to…deliver a drushkan baby early.” Liam ran a hand through his hair. “That’s exactly the way she said it, and since the drushka pause before they leave something out of a story, it’s really easy to know when they’re doing it.”

  Cordelia laughed. And Pool was the only one who could lie almost effectively. She told half-truths; most of the drushka couldn’t even manage that. Even those as old as Nettle had trouble omitting facts. Lying went against who they were.

  But Cordelia knew what Pool meant. She’d drifted through the drushkan birthing place in spirit form. They didn’t bear children in their own bodies, but surrendered them to the tree, to little pods that made them grow. She’d never seen how the babies got into the pods, but she’d seen Simon after he’d emerged from one.

  “So the baby’s not right or something?” she asked. “What’s that got to do with Shiv?”

  He spread his hands before he lifted and dropped them, a drushkan gesture crossed with a human one. “Pool usually helps with this delivery, but Shiv had to do it, and now the baby is…bonded to her, a drushka to a queen. He doesn’t have a bond with Pool at all, so…”

  “She can’t hear his thoughts, but Shiv can?”

  “I guess.” He sighed loudly. “She said a tribe of one is a really unique thing to the drushka, and it’s occupying a lot of Shiv’s mind.”

  Cordelia nodded slowly. The pull of the drushka was powerful, bathed in emotion, but it was regulated by Pool, who was well used to it, and the flood of thoughts kept Pool from being too close to just one person. If Shiv and this child were experiencing it with just the two of them, it had to feel powerful indeed, probably something like the Sun-Moon felt. “And let me guess, since she’s Shiv, she’s not letting her mother help her?”

  Liam gave a sad smile. “Or anyone else.”

  Cordelia didn’t say it, but she wondered how much help Liam would be. He was very attached to Shiv. He probably couldn’t help but be jealous of this little intruder.

  “What if some of Pool’s drushka switch allegiance to Shiv?” Cordelia asked.

  “Pool thought of that. But her drushka haven’t had another queen for generations. They won’t go. We met one of the old drushka in the plains, and he switched to Pool without question. I think the old drushka want new leadership, so maybe they can help Shiv.” He sighed. “If Pool could talk to them.”

  Cordelia nodded again, filing that information away. She patted Liam on the shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  “I have it easier than the boy’s parents. He keeps running from them to be with Shiv, and they can’t communicate with him through Pool. It must feel as if they have a doll instead of a child.”

  She shuddered at the thought and tried to turn him back to the city, to something he was comfortable with. “How are the paladins and the yafanai we took from Celeste settling in?”

  Liam perked up. “Lea’s a rock, but he’s always been. He’s the leader of what we’ve started calling the unfaithful, those who thought the Storm Lord had overstayed his welcome. But there are others holding on to the thought that he might return.”

  “Are they causing problems?”

  “Just mutters of dissent. Simon’s been talking to everyone who will listen. He doesn’t want to use his power to change people’s minds, which is good.”

  She grinned. It had been a hard road to forgiveness for Liam, but he seemed to have gotten there. Simon had healed the Storm Lord after Liam had shot him the first time. If that hadn’t happened, a lot of their misery over the last few months could have been avoided, but Liam’s mother and Cordelia’s uncle would still have been dead. And as the drushka said, you couldn’t blame a shawness for healing someone. It was just what they did.

  “Simon’s too useful to stay mad at,” she said, giving Liam a nudge.

  He rolled his eyes. “I’ve never held grudges like you.”

  She wanted to say bullshit, but she only smirked.

  He chuckled. “If mutters of dissent turn to violence, we’ll have to do something about it, but we can’t stop people talking. Simon and I both agree on that.”

  “Well, you have an open invitation to come with us to the swamp if you want to avoid your responsibilities.”

  He turned to her with raised eyebrows. “‘Can’t talk now, got a fight to win’ is your battle cry, not mine.”

  “Damn straight. But I always need someone who can take a punch.”

  He tried to kick her, but she dodged. “Asshole. I would think you’d be more interested in someone who can throw a punch.”

  “As long as they’re not better than me!”

  A low rumble sounded in the distance, and Cordelia looked to where dark clouds had gathered, billowing toward them fast. She and Liam broke into a jog, but the clouds opened before they reached the Paladin Keep again, and the rain came down in sheets, drenching them. Cordelia wondered how many Galeans would be interpreting the rain as a message from the Storm Lord. Then she had another thought: If Simon was right, and the Storm Lord had been tinkering with the weather for years, shielding Gale from the worst of Calamity’s storms, what were they going to do with him gone?

  As the thunder boomed loud enough to rattle the windows, she tried to shake off the thought. It was the one thing she could truly do nothing about.

  * * *

  Simon had been walking the city with Horace and Pakesh when the sky opened around them. They ran and hid under an awning, Pakesh and Horace laughing. Simon had let go of all of Gale’s problems, all of the work that waited in their future. Something as mundane as getting caught out in the rain had cured him of worrying.

  For a moment. Then he watched the torrent turn into lashing winds. An awning across the street came loose from its hooks and blew away. He hadn’t seen such a storm since Dillon had first come to Gale and whipped something up to impress them. And even though he was dead, this weather was no doubt still his doing. Without his power, Calamity’s wea
ther would right itself, but the populace might have to suffer while it did so.

  Horace’s hand tightened in his as the wind picked up enough for the rain to come in at them sideways. Pakesh shivered, and Simon felt his fear. He also felt a dim call. Pool was headed toward the Paladin Keep, and she was worried, too. She’d laid her tree down so it wouldn’t be hit by the lightning that burned across the sky. She didn’t like doing it, didn’t like the tree to be so vulnerable. He sensed her pulling back her drushka to watch over it.

  “We need to get to the keep,” Simon yelled above the wind.

  “In this?” Pakesh asked.

  Horace took both their hands. “Pool?”

  Simon nodded, knowing it had to be frustrating for Horace to know Pool was communicating but not being able to hear what she was saying. “At least it’s indoors,” Simon said.

  Horace shouted, “One, two, three!” Then he ran into the rain, tugging Simon and Pakesh with him. They ran as one, their strength buoyed by Simon’s and Horace’s power. Simon headed for Pool rather than trying to see through the rain. He caught a glimpse of the keep in the sudden gloom but kept his head down, hoping Horace was paying enough attention to their surroundings to keep them from running into anything. By the time they reached the keep, they were all soaked to the skin. They ran under the bailey and slid through the heavy keep doors, which stood open just enough to admit visitors and keep out most of the rain.

  The inside of the keep was a flurry of activity, people hurrying through the rooms and making piles of equipment on the floor. Simon tried to shake his arms dry, but more water just rolled off his sleeves, his hair. Cordelia appeared out of one of the side rooms with three towels. “Pool told me you were on your way. I thought I’d better be ready.”

  Simon thanked her as he toweled off as best he could. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re going after the people the drushka took.”

  “So soon?” But he could feel Cordelia’s anticipation: proof that Pool must be near. He supposed he should have expected that they’d want to rescue the captives as soon as they could. Neither was the type to let grass grow under her feet.

  So to speak.

  The earth churned near the keep doors, and roots punched through the soil, lifting Pool into the doorway. She was nearly dry, but Simon didn’t know if the rain would have bothered her at all. She stopped inside the gloom and lifted her nose as if scenting the air. “I have never been inside a human dwelling. It seems close and dark.”

  “This isn’t typical,” Simon said, gesturing at the enormous stone and metal walls. “They cobbled this together from some of the Chrysalis pods the original colonists used to descend to Calamity. Most homes are much smaller.”

  Cordelia rubbed her hands together, eagerness wafting off her. “Some of the armor still has a charge, and we’re divvying up the suits. There’s enough ammo for Lea and me to carry railguns. We’ll see if we can spare enough for the other two.”

  “They’ve put you in charge, then?” Simon asked, a bit of teasing in his voice.

  She grinned. “Lea said I was the best person for the job, and I can’t argue with that.”

  Simon suspected she wouldn’t be so eager if they weren’t on a rescue mission. Part of her seemed to have lost the taste for mindless violence.

  Pool frowned at the stacks of arms and armament. “I do not care for these railguns, Sa, The queens are not themselves. They do not deserve annihilation.”

  “We’ve got to do something, Pool. The old drushka aren’t going to hand our people over, and it’s clear they’ll never stop chasing you.”

  “But it’s the Shi who’s the problem,” Horace said. “Maybe if Pool can talk to her directly?”

  Pool rested a long-fingered hand on his shoulder. “I do not think she will listen to my words, shawness, but I also do not wish my people to die. Perhaps if I offered—”

  Cordelia held up a hand, and Simon knew what she was getting from Pool: a dash of pain, an air of resignation. “We won’t give you to the Shi, Pool,” Cordelia said.

  Simon nodded. “No way.”

  Pool touched all of them but Pakesh, bending to press her forehead to Cordelia’s and Simon’s as if they were drushka. “Leave the queens to me,” she said. “You need only get me close enough to reach their minds.”

  “With all their drushka attacking you?”

  She spread her hands. “Sest has shown me the way. The drushka want to be free. To rob the Shi of power, we must first rob her of her drushka. She sees them now only as weapons. So we will disarm her.”

  “You think it’ll be that easy?” Cordelia asked.

  “It is a path we must try. We will rescue your people, Sa, but not at the cost of my species. The old drushka wish to be free. I will free them, and then perhaps there can be peace.”

  Simon nodded even if Cordelia still seemed skeptical. “All right. We’ll try it your way.” She looked at Simon and Horace. “A healer would be nice on this trip, but Liam will need one of you here.” She grinned. “Talk amongst yourselves.”

  Simon opened his mouth to argue, but she was already gone. After a wrinkle of her nose, Pool departed, too. They turned to each other. Simon’s stomach shrank at the idea of parting again, and he wanted to say so, but Pakesh was still there, listening.

  Simon gave him a pointed look. He was glancing around the keep, oblivious. When he finally caught their looks, realization seemed to dawn. “Oh, you want…” He smiled awkwardly, cleared his throat, and went to examine the piles of equipment.

  “Well—” Horace started.

  “I’m going with them,” Simon said. If they were going to have a fight about who was doing what, he wanted to get it over with.

  Horace chuckled. “Think of the Galeans. First, some of their paladins left when the Storm Lord kicked them out. Then their god left, and the drushka came and poisoned them. Then you came, their almighty healer, and brought everyone back together. Minus God, of course. If you leave again, they’ll panic. I’m going to the swamp.”

  “First of all, no one is almighty. Second, you were healing them, too. Third…” He groped for another reason. “I’d miss you!”

  “And I’ll miss you, too, but you have to stay for the city’s sake. You showed up with the Storm Lord in the first place. You’re much more mystical than I am.” Horace smiled, his emotions loving rather than resentful, proving he truly believed what he was saying.

  “I… You…” Simon cast about for arguments. He didn’t want them to part at all, but if they had to, he could at least take the more dangerous mission. “You can’t communicate with Pool like I can.”

  “I won’t need to with her drushka all around me. I’ve lived with them for almost nine months. I know how they work, how to heal them.” He winked. “And I could never soothe a human crowd like you can. And I don’t have your skill with plants, which the Galeans will need if they’re going to harvest early and feed everyone.”

  Simon didn’t know how to respond, so he let his fear and worry and love come to the surface for Horace to feel.

  Horace clasped his hands. “I don’t want to leave you either, but the Galeans need you, and for more than just healing and plants. You’re a symbol now.”

  “Don’t wanna be a symbol,” Simon muttered. “Unless it’s a big sign that says Keep Out.”

  Horace beamed and hugged him, speaking into his ear. “Are we going to keep talking, or are you going to come with me so we can have a proper, mushy good-bye?”

  Simon thought it funny how his heart could lift and sink at the same time. “You’re just trying to distract me.”

  “And you know I’m right.”

  Simon sighed and sent a request that Pool look after Pakesh. She agreed, and Horace sent a similar message to Pakesh. But as they began to leave the keep, Simon wondered where they could go.

  “The tree,” Horace sent to him. “It might be lying down, but there are still plenty of places to hide in its branches.”

 
; The rain had let up slightly, and Horace and Simon ran to Pool’s tree, to the little cubby they’d slept in before. As the storm ebbed and flowed outside, Horace and Simon said good-bye as they were certain many of the soldiers were doing, should be doing. Simon tried not to think of the morning to come, putting everything he had into making love, wanting to record every moan, every caress. Maybe if he wore Horace out completely, neither of them could leave.

  Horace laughed at that thought and gave as good as he got.

  But the night passed, and the morning came all too soon. The rain had subsided to the occasional gust as everyone gathered at the base of Pool’s tree. Simon kissed Horace again, not wanting to let him go in spite of Pool’s assurances that he would be safe in her branches. Cordelia gave him the same speech, but neither made parting any easier.

  “Bring me a souvenir!” Liam called to Cordelia.

  Cordelia grinned as Pool lifted her into the branches. “How’s two hundred Galeans sound?”

  “Perfect!”

  Simon wished he could be as blithe, but as Pool’s tree walked away, eventually disappearing among the trees in the distance, too far away for Simon to feel them, he had to turn back to Gale, wondering, among all the other things, where he was going to sleep now.

  “Come on, Pakesh,” Simon said over his shoulder. Pakesh seemed as if he might say something, then closed his mouth, his attention wandering once they were in Gale, and he clapped eyes on several young women.

  “Come on, Pakesh,” Simon said with a smile, part of him hoping Pakesh would never change.

  Liam was ahead of them, calling people to bring in rain barrels and other containers they’d used to catch clean water. It was a good thought, and Simon was a little embarrassed he hadn’t thought of it in the first place. He sped up until he reached Liam’s side.