Children of the Healer

by Barbara Ann Wright

  “I know Nettle will volunteer,” Cordelia said. “I’m sure others will as well, but Pool should stay here since we don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

  “I’ll give you descriptions of the breachies from the Atlas,” Simon said. “That’s what Dillon called the people whose pods broke open during the accident. They weren’t as powerful as the bridge crew, but some of them are more powerful than yafanai.”

  Cordelia nodded. “Go, enjoy the rest of the night.”

  They left, Liam with a questioning look, but she nodded him out the door, then leaned back in the chair, her chair. She couldn’t help a smile even as the problems of the future weighed on her. She was home, and she was the captain of the paladins, and everyone she cared about was alive and well. Tomorrow she’d sort out some minor problems and gather her gear. The day after, she’d sort out the mine, and then everything would be back on track.

  She snorted. Or not. Whichever happened, she was going to go find Nettle and soak in as much comfort as she could.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Once alone, Horace and Simon spent the night in each other’s arms. After the partying, then the worrying, then the lovemaking, Horace thought he’d sleep the morning away, but when he opened his eyes, light was barely peeking around the curtains. He lay still, forgetting where he’d slept after so many days in Pool’s tree. Then Simon made a noise beside him, and he remembered: the mayor’s house. He was home.

  Horace eased from the bed. Simon didn’t stir, curled up as he was with his head on one arm. Horace wanted to climb back into bed and kiss him awake, but something had been bothering him ever since he’d returned to Gale. He couldn’t put his finger on it. A sense of unease had followed him all throughout the celebration. Now it wouldn’t let him sleep.

  He dressed quietly, then tiptoed down the stairs. Pakesh was already up, messing about in the kitchen. Evan lay in his makeshift crib on the table, and Horace took a moment to touch the baby’s sweet face and run his power over him, looking for any abnormalities.

  Fit and healthy. Horace sighed, wishing he could say the same thing about his own turbulent thoughts. He went out into the morning air and breathed deeply. It was a bit too warm for the time of year. Another thing to worry about.

  Even this early, many people were up and around. As he walked, he caught several conversations about the election that day. Liam was going to win by a landslide. He started to smile, but a jot of melancholy stopped him. Was that what was bothering him? No one had asked him if he wanted to run for mayor?

  He didn’t. But the day before, Cordelia hadn’t bothered to ask what his role in Gale would be at all. Everyone thought of him as a helper, a sidekick. He frowned. Did he want to be something else? He’d always wanted to help people, and that was what he’d been doing. He didn’t want to be in charge. Maybe he was just angry no one had thanked him.

  He rolled his eyes at himself. Maybe being augmented in power had augmented his ego as well. It was probably just the idea of splitting up with Simon so soon after returning that was making him moody. But then, he’d volunteered to go. Why had his hand shot up so suddenly? When they’d gotten home the night before, Simon had asked that same question. Horace had given the answer he believed at the time: people needed him. And he truly wished Simon could go, too. Horace wasn’t trying to run from the man he loved. Maybe he was craving adrenaline, like someone who was half yafanai and half paladin. In the thick of battle, there wasn’t time to think about anything else.

  He told himself to stop being silly, go back home, snuggle up with Simon, and not waste any of the precious time they had together, but he kept walking. He’d head for the market. Maybe seeing people with real problems would cure him.

  As he turned around, someone else pulled up short as if they’d been following him. The man turned from side to side awkwardly before stepping to a display window and pretending to study the contents.

  Horace didn’t sense any sinister thoughts, merely a keen sense of embarrassment. He walked closer, recognizing Jon Lea. “Jon? Were you looking for me?”

  Jon turned with a grimace. He was normally so stoic that his face and emotions were hard to read, but now he seemed in turmoil. But that could be because Horace had called him by his first name. No one else seemed to.

  “Is something wrong?” Horace asked softly. They’d nearly died at the same time in the swamp. Maybe it was affecting Jon more than it was Horace. And Horace had used his telepathy to help traumatized people before. “Do you need help?”

  “I…needed to make sure you were okay.” Jon took a deep breath, and his face settled into something closely resembling his normal blankness.

  “Okay.” Horace resisted the urge to pry with his power, though he didn’t sense any dishonesty. “Was there some reason you thought I wouldn’t be?”

  “You seemed worried last night shortly after sundown, when you received a report from Sergeant Ines Duncan. Then later, after you fetched Simon Lazlo and Captain Ross, you seemed calmer, so when I received notice of a mission to the mine, I thought I would…check on you.” He frowned again. The report had been delivered calmly, but now he seemed confused, as if unused to the sort of relationships where he checked on someone.

  “So you’ve been…checking up on me since I got back?” Following, more like. Horace hadn’t even noticed. He looked for any hint of romantic feelings. He didn’t find anything sexual, but he did notice Jon’s keen admiration. Maybe that was as close to romantic as he got.

  Horace didn’t know whether to smile kindly or run away.

  “You fixed me in the swamp,” Jon said, voice soft.

  “Oh!” Relief coursed through Horace. He could handle a bit of grateful hero worship. “You don’t need to worry about thanking me. I was happy to help.”

  Jon smiled, an awkward look Horace remembered from the swamp, like someone trying out their face. “Well, I’ll be going on the mission, so…” He gestured vaguely, and it took Horace a moment to realize he was trying to shoo Horace back toward the mayor’s house.

  “I was going to the market if you want to join me,” Horace said, not in the mood to be herded by anyone, good intentions or not.

  “I…” Jon hesitated as if no one ever invited him anywhere.

  “Well, you can’t follow me anymore,” Horace said, “so you can either join me or find something else to do.” He couldn’t help the irritation that threaded into his tone. Even if Jon was simply worried about him, he could take care of himself. He’d proven that, or thought he had. Horace had saved both himself and Jon as well as many others.

  With a sigh, Horace started walking again. When he reached the end of the street, he glanced back, but Jon was gone. Either he’d decided to go about his business, or he was following more clandestinely than before. Horace told himself not to care, but the whole exchange burned him. He wondered when he’d stopped thinking that someone caring for his safety was sweet.

  Well, Simon caring was still sweet, but Simon also believed in him. How many others thought he needed a nursemaid? He’d told Cordelia that the paladins were used to him, but maybe they still didn’t think much of him.

  When he saw Cordelia walking toward him through the market, he pulled up short, wondering if he’d summoned her with his thoughts. Or was she looking out for him, too? But she didn’t seem to have noticed him, and she’d never been very sneaky. He told himself not to be paranoid.

  People got out of her way as she walked, even when she smiled. She was tall, three inches more than him, and even in street clothes, she was impressively muscular. Maybe that was what he needed, some outward sign of the power inside him. But he didn’t want to invest the time it would take to get her impressive physique. And he didn’t want to go back to wearing yafanai robes. Maybe he should just wear a sign.

  She caught sight of him and grinned. “Hello, Horace. Shopping?”

  “Just walking. You?”

  “I went to see what’s left of the temple.” She shook her head sa
dly. “There’s a lot of work to be done.” She glanced around. “And Jacobs tells me there’s a fledgling street gang cruising the market.”

  “A gang?” He couldn’t believe it. The guilds usually took care of such things. “How?”

  “Shit like that happens when a town is vulnerable.”

  “And you’re going to stop them with no weapon and no armor?”

  She grinned. “If they see weapons and armor, they won’t show themselves.” She clapped him on the shoulder. “And now that you’re here, I’ve got backup.”

  He returned her smile. At least someone thought he could take care of himself, even though she’d cast him as backup and not the hero. He told himself to shut up and take the compliment.

  They strolled together, and Horace scanned the surface thoughts of those around him, not going deeper, avoiding breaking the law. They stopped and spoke with the people selling wares. Even with all the work Simon had done on the plants, the offerings of fruit were a little meager. Both Horace and Cordelia tried to reassure people that the hard times would eventually pass.

  While Cordelia was chatting with someone, Horace spotted a group of young people lounging in the shade. They were watching him and Cordelia and grinning. Horace wandered closer, wondering what they were smiling at. His surface scans revealed a bit of nastiness. Maybe he’d found the gang. Perfect. Just what he needed.

  He sighed at the thought. Cordelia was really rubbing off on him.

  “Hey,” one of the gang called, a young man near the front with greasy blond hair hanging in his eyes. “That your girlfriend?” He nodded toward Cordelia.

  The others snickered. Horace fought the urge to smile. He could knock all of them out with a snap. “Maybe.”

  “Aren’t you a little small for her?” another asked, a sharp-faced woman.

  “Maybe he’s big where it counts,” another said.

  They all laughed. Horace waited for the part that was supposed to embarrass him. “She likes to pick me up and run around with me.”

  They blinked as if not knowing what to say. Cordelia came up beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. She must have caught some of the conversation. “I do like my partners portable.”

  The greasy guy stood and hooked his thumbs in his belt. “Maybe having a better lover would cure you of that.”

  Horace frowned. As insults went, it was pretty terrible, but he figured it didn’t matter. This group wanted a fight, so they’d do what they had to in order to get one. And Horace spotted more of them coming from the alley behind, adults. The real gang.

  Cordelia no doubt noticed them, too. “I don’t think you or your friends would know a good lover if they bit you on the ass.” She grinned. “Or even after that. Why don’t you go home and be a waste of oxygen there.”

  The adults came out of the alley, frowning. Cordelia took her arm from Horace’s shoulders. Anticipation rolled off her.

  “You’re in the wrong part of town,” the largest man said. He pushed past the teens. “We charge a toll for people like you.”

  “Snappy dressers?” Horace asked.

  Cordelia snorted a laugh. “I think he means people who bathe.”

  The big man lunged forward, reaching for Horace.

  Horace jumped back, taken off guard. He’d been certain they’d go for Cordelia first. Maybe they were hoping to use him as a shield.

  Cordelia stepped into the big man’s path and hit him in the chin with an open palm. He tottered, and the others leapt to help, coming for Cordelia. Horace turned to one who rushed around her. He swamped the gang member’s mind with power, and she dropped. Cordelia swung one of her opponents onto her shoulders, then threw him into the street. When another launched a punch toward her face, she grabbed his arm and tossed him away, too, narrowly missing a cart stall.

  “Mind the fruit!” Horace called.

  “Right!” She punched her next opponent into the alley instead. Horace knocked out another with his powers. Those who’d been thrown squirmed where they’d landed, gasping for air. One tried to run, and Horace sabotaged her legs. He sent a telepathic call to the Paladin Keep. They’d need more people to haul this bunch away once Cordelia was done with them. She grabbed for another one, but Jon Lea stepped out from between two market stalls and stopped the runner with a punch to the gut.

  Horace frowned, but he didn’t have time to deal with Jon at the moment. He put another runner to sleep, then turned to Cordelia. She had the big man on the ground, one arm pulled up behind his back.

  “Get off me!” he cried. “Motherfucker!”

  “Want me to knock him out?” Horace asked.

  Cordelia nodded.

  “Try it, asshole!” the big man yelled.

  Horace put him to sleep with a neat flick of power. “Nighty night.”

  Cordelia gave him a grin, then dragged all the gang members into a pile. She nodded to Jon as he added another. “Lucky you were close.”

  “I called for reinforcements,” Horace said, not wanting her to know that Jon had been keeping an eye on him. “Just to haul them away,” he added for Cordelia’s ego.

  The shopkeepers were clapping, some of them crying, “About time!”

  Cordelia gave them a little wave, but some were clapping for Horace, too. He fought the urge to beam, wondering what in the world had gotten into him. He’d never craved applause, ever. He made a mental note to talk to Simon. Maybe something else was affecting his brain.

  “Lea, wait here with the captives,” Cordelia said. “Help’s on the way.”

  He nodded. “Captain.”

  He didn’t look at Horace, and Horace wondered if having Cordelia here put Jon’s mind at ease.

  Cordelia clapped Horace on the shoulder. “Come on, my portable paramour.”

  * * *

  Cordelia followed Horace back to her uncle’s old house, but she wasn’t up to going inside, not yet. Every time she thought about it, she saw his body on the floor. She shivered as she waited while Horace went inside. When Simon came out, they made plans to meet later, after Cordelia checked on a few things at the keep. She’d need a good drinking buddy that afternoon.

  At the keep, preparations for the mine trip seemed to be going well. She kept thinking back to her days as a lieutenant, when she’d wandered the keep trying to avoid meetings with Carmichael. She wanted to be friendlier than that, but not so friendly that people felt as if they could waste her time. Of course, maybe that was how Carmichael started out, too.

  With a sigh, she wandered out to the practice field for some fresh air, stopping when she spotted Liam watching the troops. Since he’d gotten back, Jon Lea had some of them running around the field; others were doing crunches or push-ups. Still others were working on the practice equipment the Storm Lord had constructed. Cordelia had ordered training to restart that morning. Too many of the new recruits had collapsed under the weight of unpowered armor in the swamp. Since she didn’t have a way to charge it, they’d have to get stronger.

  “Getting nostalgic?” Cordelia asked as she paused behind Liam.

  “About having some lieutenant chew my ass until I run it off?” He breathed deep. “Kind of.”

  Cordelia chuckled. “I thought you’d be off doing mayor things. Word is, you’ve got the election in the bag.”

  “I was supposed to meet Shiv, but she’s still with her mother.” He kicked some dirt around and smiled almost shyly. “At least we’re…talking again.”

  Cordelia snorted a laugh. “Good.”

  “Though she did warn me that she might have to leave soon and spend some time with the old drushka.”

  “Ah.” She didn’t know quite what to say. Life never seemed to stay good very long anymore. It made her wonder what would happen with Lyshus, what the drushka would do with a male queen.

  Liam pointed to a soldier, her brown ponytail swinging behind her as she jogged. “Watch her.”

  When the joggers passed Lea, he barked at them to pick it up. Some groaned, already
sagging, but the woman with the ponytail clenched her jaw and ran faster. Even from across the field, Cordelia saw pride in her eyes. “Who is that?”

  “Not sure. I heard one of the others call her Baby Ross, but I don’t think that’s official.”

  Cordelia snorted. “Well, she’s sure as shit not my kid. And if you say I look old enough to be her mom, I’ll turn you inside out.”

  “She’s tough and so eager Lea had to chase her off the equipment so others could use it.”

  Cordelia smiled. “Is this what you’ve been doing all morning? Gossiping?”

  “I think that’s primarily what a mayor does.”

  With another snort, Cordelia watched the field again, thoughts of her uncle rearing within. But the moves of the troops were hypnotic. No wonder Liam came to watch them when he was sad.

  “Hey, Lea!” Cordelia called.

  He jogged over. “Captain?”

  “Who’s the ponytail in the lead?”

  Lea didn’t even glance over his shoulder. “Private Sunny Swanson, Cap.”

  “Any good?”

  Lea shrugged. “If you can call the best of a bunch of sorry-ass newbs good, Cap.”

  Cordelia had to laugh. “As you were, Lieutenant.”

  Lea strode back to his charges, bellowing and hollering at them to move their asses and push through the pain, though he didn’t even sound angry as he did so, more like he was reading from a script. If he wanted the job of pushing the newcomers on a permanent basis, she was happy to give it to him.

  She didn’t need something else to worry about. “Come on, Liam.” He followed her back through the keep and into the courtyard. “What else are you up to today?”

  “I’ve got a few meetings.” He grinned at her, then turned that smile to the street where Pakesh was fast approaching, Horace following far behind him. “Here’s my first appointment.”

  “Pakesh?” she asked.

  “After the party, I was able to give him some advice on dating. He’s seeing someone this afternoon and wanted a few last-minute tips.”