“Ah ah,” Patricia said, wagging a finger. “It’s rude to talk where people can’t hear.” She grinned, seemed genuinely happy to see them. “I separated from the rest of my body and left Naos up on the Atlas. I’m just Patricia now.” Her smiled turned a bit wooden as if that might not be exactly true, and her gaze wandered upward as if she was listening to someone else.
Horace looked again but still didn’t detect a link or a telepathic signal. What was going on?
Patricia took a deep breath. “I’m free.” The words had a bit of an edge to them, as if she was trying to convince herself as well as them.
“What happened to Kora?” Horace asked, dreading the answer.
“Naos killed her mind before your battle. The body was empty, so I stepped inside.” She shrugged as if such things happened every day.
Horace shut his eyes and mourned for her. For Natalya.
“Whatever your story is,” Cordelia said, “it doesn’t change the fact that this mine belongs to Gale.”
“Not anymore.”
Cordelia took a step forward.
Patricia laughed. “Let me save you some pain and suffering. When I left my body, I didn’t go empty-handed.”
Horace sensed it as she tapped her power, but she was faster than him. He froze under her psychokinetic grip, and he couldn’t access his abilities. He saw his fellow yafanai sink to their knees just before he followed. Why had he ever wanted anyone to see him as the primary threat?
Cordelia whipped her blade free. The paladins charged, then flew backward. Horace tried to call a warning, but he struggled even to breathe. Ines and Liam dove for cover in the grass. The drushka tried to scatter, but they rolled away, battered by invisible force.
Patricia strode to Horace. She hadn’t lost her smile.
He sucked in a deep breath as she let him breathe easier. “Stop,” he said with a wheeze. “We can talk.”
“I’ll let you go this time,” she said. “Tell the rest of the Galeans that if they want metal, they’ll have to trade for it.” She smirked. “This mine is…mine.”
“Wait!” Liam stood, his hands raised. “Please. I’m the mayor of Gale. I only want to speak with you.”
“You brought soldiers to my gate. That sends a different message.”
“For protection. We needed to see what was happening. And now that we have, I’d really like to stay and talk it over. You want to trade? We’ll have to sort out terms.” His face and tone were calm, reasonable. Horace swallowed and looked between them.
Patricia cocked her head as if listening to an internal voice again. “Okay, but just you.”
“Fuck that!” Cordelia yelled from where she lay.
Patricia grinned. “I do admire her spirit.”
“It’s okay, Delia,” Liam said. “I want to stay and figure this out.”
“Brave,” Patricia said. “I’ll let you have two bodyguards, just to show there’s no hard feelings. But the bee can’t stay. How about that one and that one?”
Raquel waved. Lieutenant Porter and Private Swanson slid through the grass as if dragged by a giant hand. They landed in a heap at Liam’s side. Both climbed to their feet, rubbing their limbs and shaking their heads.
“There, one of each, armor and leather, male and female,” Patricia said, “cozy as the ark.” With a hearty laugh, she walked away, not releasing Horace’s power or his limbs until she’d gone inside the gate.
Raquel stayed to watch, and the plains dwellers hadn’t dispersed.
Horace healed everyone’s minimal injuries as he stood. “She’s too strong,” he said as Cordelia gripped her blade. She had murder etched into every feature.
“Liam,” she said, “you can’t do this.”
He cast a glance at Raquel and lowered his voice. “This is what I’m good at, Delia. Let me do my job. If she wants to do business, she’s not going to kill me.”
“If her telepathy is strong enough, she won’t have to,” Horace said. “Let me give you something to protect you.” He put his hands on either side of Liam’s head and focused. Liam gasped, but Horace didn’t have time to be gentle. He built blocks and walls inside Liam’s mind, the strongest he could make. It only took a moment. If Patricia tried to take him over or alter his mind, it wouldn’t be easy. Maybe Liam would have time to strike or run.
Liam blinked when it was done, swaying a bit as if he’d stared at the sun. “Um, thanks.”
“Now for your guards.” Horace turned to them and quickly did the same. It wouldn’t save them from her psychokinesis, but at least he felt as if he was doing something.
“Come if you’re coming,” Raquel called.
“Thanks.” Liam gripped Cordelia’s shoulders then started for the gate, Swanson and Porter with him.
“Keep him safe,” Cordelia called to the paladins. “Do me proud.”
They saluted, then Liam was through the gate, the paladins on his heels.
“Come on,” Cordelia said, her expression stony as she led them down the road until the wall was out of sight. “What the fuck was all that? Who the fuck is she?” She marched up and down, seemingly at a loss without someone to punch.
“We need to talk to Simon,” Horace said.
“Ahya,” Nettle said. “He can best tell us how to fight. If this woman has even a part of Naos’s strength, we will need a solid plan.”
Cordelia put her hands on top of her head. “Fuck!”
“We need to get back to Gale,” Horace said, completely out of his depth. He couldn’t help feeling as if they all were. He only hoped that what he’d done to Liam’s mind was enough to keep him safe until they could figure out something else. He’d wanted more to do. Well, now he had it. He never should have wished for anything but a peaceful life.
* * *
Simon strolled through the empty warehouse behind Jacobs. All morning, they’d been searching for somewhere to house the yafanai until the temple was rebuilt. They’d tried putting some in the keep, but that hadn’t gone well. The soldiers and the yafanai had never been the best of buddies. And with Miriam, Mila, and Victoria to add to the household, the mayor’s house was full. Simon had taken Miriam with him today for an extra opinion, and she scanned the warehouse while Pakesh trailed after them.
“It’s…sparse,” Simon said, staring at the naked beams overhead. The dirt floor had been cleared, but he spotted a few scraps of grass, and the place smelled stale.
“After we divide it into rooms, it might look all right,” Miriam said. “Some of the yafanai won’t be happy, but it’s better than a tent.”
Jacobs put her hands on her hips and nodded. “It’s the largest space available. There are some empty houses we can check out, but nothing this size. If the yafanai want to stay together, this is the best they’re going to get.”
“You’ll never please all of them. Let them whine,” Miriam said.
That was easy to say while she was staying in the mayor’s house, but Simon didn’t point that out. And maybe they’d all be out of there before too long if Liam decided to move in. They’d parted on good terms, but every now and again, Simon thought of his petulant face and wanted to frown. Hopefully, governmental power wouldn’t go to his head.
Pakesh wandered to the rear of the warehouse and felt along the wall. “It seems sturdy. Maybe you can build a second story. Then people can spread out more.”
Simon glanced up. Several slats were missing from the roof, letting daylight leak in, but that could be repaired. A shadow flitted by one of the holes; it might have been a bird, but his senses told him it was something larger. He didn’t even need the following thump to convince him.
“Someone’s on the roof.” He held his power ready, an image of the man with the knife flashing in his memory.
Jacobs craned her head. “Maybe they’re fixing it.”
Something blocked out the light, and it took a moment to register that an object was falling, that he should move. Frantic, he tried to catch it with his power, but it prove
d too big.
Pakesh cried out, and Simon tried to duck. He’d barely moved when it smashed down, half on his head and half on his shoulder.
It didn’t hurt. It should have. The world went dull and quiet. Dimly, he knew his legs had given out. He was on the floor, and it tilted crazily before his half-lidded eyes. Someone was shouting, but they sounded far away, underwater maybe. He couldn’t bring himself to care. Emotions seemed as distant as voices. Even his power was a memory. He tried to blink, tried to get some thoughts in order. Someone was tugging on his arm. He tried to turn his head, but his body wouldn’t work.
A bit of telepathy wormed into his skull, someone calling his name, their mental voice frantic. He tried to tell them to relax, to swim in this painless sea with him, but speech hid just out of reach. He rolled sideways, and Miriam’s panicked face contorted in pain before him. She grasped her head and fell away.
“Doc!” Jacobs’s voice. The world tilted again, and his stomach seemed to move through his body. Was he sick? His chin was wet. His whole face seemed wet. The smell of smoke filled his nostrils, and that wasn’t right. There’d been too much fire lately.
He stood. How? His legs weren’t working. No, Jacobs held him up. He could float away from her if he tried. All he had to do was let go. Miriam had fallen. Pakesh had fallen. A cloud of smoke rolled past Jacobs’s face as she shouted. They needed help. He could help. Maybe then they’d be quiet. He searched inside for his power, fumbling for it. Nothing.
Wait. A spark. There, he could hear a little better. Pakesh had risen to help Miriam as she clutched her stomach. “The baby is coming!” Pakesh cried.
“Not here it isn’t!” Jacobs shoved Simon into Pakesh’s arms, and the world lurched. Simon tried to hold on, but his body wasn’t quite his yet. Jacobs grabbed Miriam and helped her stagger.
Miriam grasped her head with one hand and her belly with another. Pakesh stumbled, and Simon felt telepathic needles stabbing them all, but they barely pained him. He felt a wave of heat from the doorway, could feel the trickle of liquid on his face. Blood? He grabbed for his power again, but it was as slippery as an eel. What the hell was wrong with him?
“Watch out!” Pakesh shouted.
Four people rushed through the smoke. Jacobs called out, and the newcomers streaked for her and Miriam, but one held something in his hands. Jacobs drew her truncheon, and Miriam slid to the ground. Two of the strangers lunged for Jacobs, deflecting her truncheon with a loud whack.
“Stop!” Pakesh yelled.
The other two strangers lifted Miriam and carried her away. “No,” Simon tried to say. He tried to tell Pakesh to use his power, but the grip of an unseen telepath battered both their minds.
Simon needed his power. Anger began to seep through the haze. He could feel the telepath standing beyond the smoke. He tried to heal himself again, but that was too much work. He lashed out at the telepath clouding Pakesh’s mind. Two could play dirty.
Pakesh cried out in rage as his power flowed free. The telepath blew away, taking the stabbing pains. Pakesh’s power bloomed again, and bits of the warehouse wall exploded outward. Jacobs’s attackers shot across the room, bodies bent unnaturally. Pakesh’s power became a wild thing, stabbing, flinging, blindly grabbing whatever it could.
Simon turned his power on himself, trying to heal, but it felt like trying to find something hidden in a vat of taffy. “Pakesh, enough!”
Pakesh’s power caught him up, carried him along on a tide of destruction. The power had engulfed Pakesh’s mind, carrying him away to an infinite place filled with stars.
“No,” Simon tried to say.
“Why do all the wounded birds flock to my door?” a new voice asked. Simon knew that voice, Naos’s voice. They had to get out, to go back.
Pakesh couldn’t answer, lost as he was in the forces within his own mind. Naos held him fast. Simon tried not to think of himself, tried not to be noticed. Maybe not being able to use his power at the moment was a good thing.
“You reached too far, little bird.” She laughed. “But then, I’m closer than ever before.” Her presence breezed past them. “Look up, and you will find me.”
Simon jolted and opened his eyes. He’d collapsed on the warehouse floor with Pakesh. Jacobs lay nearby, face bloody, unmoving. Simon reached for his power again, but he’d never heal them before they were lost to the smoke. Why wouldn’t his power work?
Brown roots broke the ground around them, and Simon nearly wept with joy. Pakesh’s eyelids fluttered, and he struggled as the roots wrapped around him, shouting about snakes until the roots dragged them underground. Simon shut his eyes, trying to keep out the dirt that scratched over his skin. He felt Pakesh’s power again and tried to calm him, but he’d soon see.
The roots brought them into sunlight. Drushka and humans were stomping out burning grass bundles, the source of all the smoke.
Reach knelt beside him. “Rest easy, shawness.” She sang, and Simon leaned into the calm feelings that spread throughout him. He capped Pakesh’s power, letting the song soothe them both. His head began to clear, and he could find his power more easily, repairing the damage to his brain before fixing the rest of him.
Brain damage. Horrifying. No wonder he’d felt like a wet sponge. At last, he could sit up. He healed Pakesh and looked over him to see Jacobs lying in the road. He healed her, too, before he asked, “Where’s Miriam?”
Reach spread her hands. “I know not.”
Pakesh stared with wide eyes. A few tears dribbled down his cheeks as he looked at Jacobs’s and Simon’s bloody faces. “Did I lose control? Did I hurt you?”
Reach put an arm around him, but Simon stood. “We’re fine. We need to look for Miriam.” He felt for her with his power, but there were too many people. He sent an image of her to Pool and felt it spread to the drushka. They split up, searching.
“It’s okay, kid,” Jacobs was saying to Pakesh. “You only hurt the bad guys.”
Simon didn’t know if that would be any comfort. He began to walk around the warehouse, looking for wounded, searching for Miriam. Pakesh and Jacobs stayed with him, Pakesh crying, clearly not listening to anything Jacobs or Reach had to say.
“It’s all right, Pakesh,” Simon said.
“I’m useless,” he said. “I let them take Miriam and hurt you!” His face was so full of sorrow it seemed like a mask. “I forgot everything you taught me and went to the dark place.”
“That wasn’t your fault.” He took a deep breath. “Help us find Miriam, and I promise, we’ll work harder to master your power.” He clutched Pakesh’s shoulder. “Let’s use your telepathy.”
Pakesh nodded and scrubbed the tears from his cheeks. Before they could go farther, though, a group of drushka ran up to them. “We have found her, shawness. Just outside the gates.”
But finding her didn’t mean… “Alive?”
“Ahya, but without her child.”
Simon’s stomach dropped. “Oh God.”
“Monsters,” Reach said.
Simon ran, following the scouts. Beyond the gates, a group of drushka gathered. Simon pushed through them, his power already reaching out. Miriam lay on the ground, her wispy hair fluttering in the breeze. She wasn’t moving, her mouth slack, but she was alive. Her belly had collapsed somewhat, empty.
Simon tried not to stare, anger building within him. He knelt and let his power play over her, healing the damage he’d found. Someone had accelerated the birth of her child, but they hadn’t been gentle. She had bruises on her arms and blood under her nose. Someone was going to pay.
That wasn’t the worst. Whoever had used telepathy on her had done some damage to her brain. Delicate work, and the repair went slowly. At last, Miriam sighed and opened her eyes.
She frowned in confusion before grabbing Simon’s arm. “Did you find him? My son?”
“Not yet,” Reach answered. “But soon.”
Miriam’s eyes widened as tears filled them. She tried to stand. Simon helped, no
t wanting to be on the receiving end of her rage. “I told him I’d see him soon.” She swiped at her eyes. “I have to keep that promise.”
Simon nodded. He’d forgotten that telepaths could commune with their unborn children. They must have had quite a bond already. He put his arms around her, and though she stiffened, she also patted his back as if saying she appreciated the gesture.
“We’ll find him,” Simon said. “I swear.”
“Ahya,” Reach said. “The queen knows. She is searching, too.” She stiffened, and Simon caught a trill of alarm from Pool.
“Your house, shawness.”
“Evan!” Simon took off at a run, leaving it to the others to follow or disperse. He saw the smoke rising above the line of buildings and felt himself growl. Had they tried to burn the block down? How many people would they kill in order to get at him?
But they hadn’t just gotten at him this time. They’d come for Miriam’s child. Surely they wouldn’t risk Mila’s and Victoria’s children with another fire?
He turned the corner and spotted a burnt husk smoking in the street but no flames. Drushka littered the way, searching for someone to fight, helping the nearby humans out of the way. Some were inside the house along with several paladins, but Simon rushed past all of them.
“Mila? Victoria?” He turned in a circle and spotted Victoria shouldering through the crowd.
“Here,” she said. “Bastards tried to take the kids.”
“Evan?”
“He’s fine.” Victoria nodded over her shoulder.
Simon sighed as relief filled him. He found Mila sitting with three babies at the kitchen table. The rest of the house seemed a wreck, with furniture strewn everywhere and several scorch marks. Private Hought sat beside Mila, his face bloody and his arm in a sling.
Jacobs was talking to the paladins, and everyone was slowly filtering out of the house. Mila put an arm around Miriam when they found out her child was taken. Victoria frowned hard and cuddled Evelyn to her chest.
Simon searched everyone else for injuries and healed what he found. “What happened?”
“A group of people tried to get in, and Hought fought several,” Victoria said. “Mila tossed them around, and I burned their asses. I don’t think they expected to find both of us here.”
Children of the Healer Page 33
