The Healer

by Kevin Hensley

  The owl drew a second sheep on the board, with curved horns and an exaggerated angry expression, causing a few students to snicker.

  “We all know what happened next. The Canine-Avian War broke out, giving Arghast’s other son the chance to make his move.” Caper drew a stick-figure pig off to the side of the board. “They came. Toxid, the ever-hungry god of death and decay, created pigs and gave them ingenuity. The birds and dogs had no chance. The world has belonged to Toxid since then.”

  Caper drew a pair of curved insect jaws above the pig.

  “Hang on,” someone said from the front. “If Karkus was so strong, how did Toxid beat him?”

  “Arghast’s only rule of engagement—his children were forbidden from fighting each other directly. They could only do so using natural phenomena and their people as a proxy.”

  “Why?”

  Caper shrugged. “Perhaps to keep the conflict from ever truly ending. Toxid is in charge now, but that’s only been since the Great War fifty years ago. Things may swing back in the favor of Optera or Karkus. And there are supposedly more gods whose names we don’t know.”

  Swifter raised a hoof again. “Does Toxid really eat sheep blood?”

  Caper winced. Dreamer almost did too. She could feel that everything in the old owl wanted to say “yes.”

  “The blood eating rumor probably has some basis in truth. Right after the War, some pigs did engage in ritual sacrifices. But I cannot say whether that continues into the present.”

  Dreamer got it. Cannot say… or not allowed to say? A roundabout “yes” if she’d ever heard one. The subtle darkening of the room’s mood told her that all her classmates got it too. It was the same darkening that she felt when they looked at her, in fact.

  Caper was only half right. Yes, there are some ugly truths in this world. But the ugliest one is that all these people already know what’s going on. They just work every day to convince themselves that they don’t.

  Chapter 40

  Pretending to be consumed in organizing his notes, Snapper made a concerted effort to keep from interacting with anyone coming in for history class. He sat near the door so he could make a quick escape at the end of the period.

  He did not regret healing Swifter and he was not afraid of getting in trouble with Caper, but he was not up for being the center of attention either.

  When Swifter came in, there was a ripple of excitement among the class. Some got up to shake his hoof, hug him, or tell him they were glad he was alright.

  Across the room, Dreamer caught Snapper’s eye. She jerked her head toward Swifter and made a perplexed expression. Snapper shrugged. Finally, he risked a glance to the front.

  Caper was giving him a dead stare. Snapper acted like he didn’t notice and went back to leafing through the papers in his bag.

  “OK, everyone,” Caper started. “As some of you heard me say earlier this morning, we are all glad Swifter is not hurt after all. Last session, we heard an alternate take on the pigs’ narrative of how our world works. Did anyone come prepared to discuss some different viewpoints?”

  The professor took a backseat for the rest of the class period, playing mediator while the students spoke one at a time about what Snapper had said on Monday.

  Snapper did not join the discussion but considered what was said. To his surprise, some of the other students had done some thinking and were actually speaking up in support of his views.

  Even stranger, he found some of his other classmates’ arguments that life was not that bad under the pigs to be somewhat compelling.

  I shouldn’t be all that surprised, he found himself thinking as he listened. What happened to my father and others was terrible, but the rest of us are making the best of it. I’ve got Ponder and Mauler, I have this school for a decent home while I figure out what I’m doing, and I’ve even managed to help someone out.

  He looked at Dreamer. She was speaking at length about the pigs’ control tactics in the quarry, particularly the use of bird missionaries from the Church of Optera. Snapper looked over at Caper, who was nodding appreciatively with Dreamer’s words. His strict but patient guardian. An old friend of his father.

  I could be happy, he thought. Crazy as that sounds.

  In his contentment, he nearly forgot to duck out of the room the second they were dismissed so as to avoid a conversation with Caper. He’d made it to the hall when he heard his name being called out. But it wasn’t Caper’s voice.

  Swifter caught up to him. “Hey, man.”

  Surprised, Snapper fell into step next to his roommate. “What’s going on?”

  “You want to play ball with us this evening?”

  Snapper frowned. “I can’t.”

  “Right, you don’t hang out with people. I forgot.”

  “Hey, that’s not it. I just have a date.”

  Swifter paused. A small grin formed on his face. “Alright, cool.” He winked and tapped Snapper’s shoulder with his hoof. “See you back at the room.”

  “Yeah… talk to you tonight.”

  Chapter 41

  “What in the world have you been up to all day?” Dreamer inquired between bites of grass. “No one sneaks around the way you do. You made every effort to keep a low profile in class. You disappear off the campus for hours at a time.”

  The twilight outside the school walls hid Snapper’s smirk. “You’ve been keeping awfully close tabs on me.”

  “You’re hiding something. A lot of things.”

  “I thought you said it wasn’t your business.”

  “That was before I got curious.”

  Snapper laughed. He enjoyed the direct way this girl spoke. He was not used to it from other sheep. “You’re going to have to spend a lot more time with me before I start revealing all my secrets.”

  “I’ll consider that. What are we about to do, anyway?”

  “I thought we might walk to town. I haven’t been back in Fleece City since… Well, a while. The square looks nice lit up.”

  She shrugged. “Sounds good. I’ve never seen the city at night.”

  They walked side-by-side down the dirt path toward Fleece City. The autumn day had been cool, and now a breeze was picking up. Snapper wondered how cold the night would get.

  No, don’t talk about the weather.

  “By the way,” Dreamer said, “you can ask me anything. Sorry I’m quiet. I sort of keep to myself. But that doesn’t mean this isn’t nice.”

  “You sure seem to know what I’m thinking about before I say it.” Snapper grinned.

  To his surprise, her brow furrowed with annoyance. She closed her eyes and shook her head firmly.

  “Did I say something wrong?” he ventured.

  “No, no.” Dreamer sighed. “I’m sorry. Are you from the city?”

  Snapper decided to let it go. “Originally. We moved out near the wall when I was young. My dad wanted to live in the country.”

  Dreamer nodded. “Have you ever seen the quarry?”

  “No. But my dad told me that it’s very rare for quarry sheep to get admitted to University.”

  “Well… my understanding is that they made it easy for me. My dad and Caper sort of railroaded me out of there because of what happened.” Dreamer gestured vaguely at her face.

  Snapper decided not to pursue that line of discussion just yet. He thought for a second about how to change the subject.

  She must have picked up on his hesitation. “Anyway, you’re right. University is a huge advantage that people like me don’t normally get. I hope to use it well. Do you know what you plan to study?”

  “Not really. I’m mostly here because it was my father’s wish,” Snapper said, slowing his pace and looking back at her. “The pigs got him and almost got me too. He wanted me to keep my head down, so that’s what I’m doing. For now.”

  She leaned close to him. “If it helps,” she said quietly, “they got me too. A pig did this to my face. All I did was speak up in your father’s defense.”

&nb
sp; “Is that why you think it’s your fault he died? Because you’re wrong. I can’t tell you everything, but Caper told me exactly what happened.”

  “Thank you for telling me that. But the point stands. Any sheep who stands too tall gets cut down. They wanted to make me ugly, to make an example of me.”

  Snapper felt his brow descending into a glare. “You’re not ugly.”

  “You’re kind. But I know most people aren’t as comfortable talking to me as you are. Why do you think I’m always alone?”

  Feeling a sudden weight in his gut, Snapper took a long look around and overhead. The city was still a few miles ahead of them. No one was nearby. He leaned in to whisper.

  “I brought you out here to offer you something.”

  Dreamer withdrew, her gaze hardening. “What are you talking about?”

  “Would you go without the scars if you had the chance?”

  Her expression remained annoyed, but she cast her eyes down. “Yes.”

  “Don’t move.” Snapper took a deep breath.

  “What are you…” she began, but the light in his eyes made her fall silent.

  Just as before, Snapper felt his consciousness descending into the ground, drawing power from the soil, and rising again to focus on her face. Through the green filter over his vision, Snapper saw the fibrous tissue of Dreamer’s scars breaking down to make room for the viable cells nearby. The living cells began to multiply, filling in the wounds before scar production could resume. Then he let the green aura slip away.

  Dreamer raised a trembling hoof to inspect the skin on her face and nearly stumbled. The red lines were gone, as if the cuts had never been.

  She opened her mouth, struggling for a minute as only air came out. “H-how?”

  Snapper shrugged, getting closer to examine his work. “I don’t know. I was born with it. I’ve always instinctively known how to do that.”

  Dreamer nodded. “It makes sense now. Your roommate’s miraculous recovery…” Her distracted, fluttering eyes finally settled on him. “Thank you.”

  “Of course.” The smile he gave her was genuine, confident. “Should we keep walking?”

  “Hold on,” she said, violet eyes moving rapidly. “I’m thinking.”

  Snapper waited. Ahead, Fleece City was lighting up for the night. Street lamps dutifully flickered on as office windows in the corporate buildings went dark.

  Dreamer got his attention again. “Alright. I’ve decided.”

  “Decided on what?”

  “You took a risk doing that for me,” she replied. “So I want to do something for you.”

  Confidence gave way to nervousness. Snapper’s stomach began to crawl. “Like what?”

  “Get closer.”

  Snapper’s cheeks grew hot as Dreamer brought her pretty face very near to his. He was suddenly very aware of the dryness of his lips. But it was her forehead that touched his.

  “Close your eyes,” she said. He complied.

  Almost instantly, even with his eyes closed, Snapper could see. The sky was a clear, cloudless blue. The sun bore down on him without mercy. Hot, red dust covered his hooves. To either side of him stood clay brick buildings of the same rust color. Tawny-colored sheep lugged bricks and rolled equipment past him. Up ahead, he saw a tall, winged totem topped with an amethyst eye.

  And at the base of that totem stood Old-Timer, alive and well. He was talking to the people.

  Snapper tried to call out but found he couldn’t move. He realized he was seeing Dreamer’s memory of a moment in the past. So he contented himself with the sight of his father.

  “I am not here to rouse you into violence and I never was,” the old ram was saying—

  The scene changed in a flash.

  A dark, damp cell in the pig’s basement, dangling chains, saw blades hanging from the walls. The fat pig towering over her, dull green eyes bulging with excitement…

  She couldn’t turn away, one hand trapping her while the other went to work on her with the knife…

  I’m going to die, her mind screamed, and my dad will be all alone…

  But she did not die; she woke up being dragged across the dusty red road…

  The throaty yell of her father, hurt and bleeding, missing a horn…

  Neither left the house for nearly a week…

  They did all they could to nurse each other back to health—

  Dreamer gave a tremendous jolt and yanked her head away. Snapper was back in the grassy field, it was evening and cool and quiet again. He collapsed to his knees and tried to gain control of his heaving stomach.

  “I’m sorry.” Dreamer gasped. “Are you alright, Snapper?”

  Snapper squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head vigorously, but the images and sensations would not go away. His mind went from the basement to his burning front yard and back again. The silhouette of the green-eyed pig was there, always there, hideously strong, pleased at the misery it had caused.

  Dreamer’s voice faded and he was alone again with the visions.

  Chapter 42

  When Snapper came to, Dreamer was gripping his shoulder tightly. Her face was frantic. He looked at her blearily.

  “I am so, so sorry,” she stammered.

  “What happened?”

  “I was trying to show you one of my memories of your dad. It was supposed to be a gift. I’m such an idiot. My control of my power is terrible. My mind went to a dark place and I couldn’t shut it out. I didn’t mean for you to see… that.” She sat next to him, head down in shame. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Snapper forced himself to his feet. “Don’t apologize.” He reached out. She took his hoof and stood.

  He smiled. “I appreciate what you did. It was good to see my dad for a minute. Thank you.”

  “Well, now you know. And I imagine a few other pieces are falling into place right now.”

  Snapper let go of her hoof and started to walk again. She followed. “You weren’t exaggerating,” Snapper said. “No wonder it was so important that you get out of the quarry. You have a special power that makes those pigs feel threatened, too.” A second went by. “Does it… go the other way? Are you reading my mind right now? Is that how you always know what I’m about to say?”

  She laughed, her shoulder touching his. “No. Not that clearly. I do pick up general impressions of emotions, but for us to share memories, we have to be in contact. And you can block me out. I have to have permission.”

  He nodded. “Well, you’re certainly exceptional. In more ways than one.”

  Dreamer didn’t reply, but out of the corner of his eye he saw her grin.

  They walked in silence for the last stretch of the journey. The sky was fully dark when they passed into the well-lit Fleece City square.

  Chapter 43

  Right away Dreamer stopped outside a clothing store. “I’ll be right back. I just want to go… see something…” She trailed off and broke away from Snapper to join the sheep entering the store.

  Snapper hung back politely. He turned his attention to the sights and sounds of the city square. The evening shopping rush was well underway.

  City and quarry sheep, birds, and small dogs crowded the sidewalks in front of the rows of stores, stopping to look through plate glass windows, ducking through doorways or into alleys. Dogs stood guard in front of the office buildings and many of the stores.

  Snapper took in the banners and wide television screens, nearly all featuring the Charlie Chugg character, his winning smile and lilting tenor voice touting one product or another.

  Finally, Snapper gave in and stole a glance through the store window.

  As he’d guessed, she’d found a mirror. He looked away to let her have the moment to herself.

  It’s time for me to heal. He smiled.

  Dreamer rejoined him a moment later. Her misty eyes fixated on him and she sniffed quietly. “Thank you again.”

  “You’re welcome,” Snapper replied, still smiling.

>   They kept walking until they’d passed the first block of storefronts and crossed in front of the bank. Snapper let his eyes drift up the mirrored face of the tallest building in Fleece City to the mascot and logo high above them. Chugg National Bank & Trust.

  “That’s where everyone wants to work, I heard,” Dreamer said. “That’s the dream career. The big goal for every sheep who gets into University is to be in that building.”

  Snapper shrugged. “Is that where you want to end up?”

  They both stopped walking, looking up at the darkened edifice for a minute. Dreamer turned away and started along the cement path toward the fountain at the center of the square. Snapper followed.

  “I don’t know,” Dreamer replied at last. “If that’s the best there is, I guess so.”

  Snapper caught up and fell into step beside her. “My dad said the same thing. It was his great ambition for me to be an accountant, or a broker, or an actuary.”

  They reached the fountain of Optera. The shoppers were largely uninterested in monuments at this time of day, so the two of them had the area to themselves. Dreamer studied the fountain intently. Snapper realized he had never really taken a close look at it.

  The bronze bowl was lined with pool lamps on the inside, throwing rippling beams of light straight up from below the surface of the water. In the center of the outstretched petals of Arghast, Optera knelt, holding the world above her head. Carved into the side of the bowl were the words: “ARGHAST CREATED OPTERA; OPTERA CREATED LIFE.” The dancing light caused the spouting water to sparkle, making the embedded amethyst gems of the Goddess’s eyes seem to glimmer with an inner glow.

  Snapper noticed that the stones were of a similar color to Dreamer’s eyes.

  She, of course, picked up on his thoughts. “There’s a statue of Optera in the quarry with an eye like that. My dad, Shiver, always compared it to my eyes. He thinks that my powers might be from the Goddess.”

  Snapper cocked an eyebrow. “What do you think about that?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t have an opinion. It is what it is.”

  The lights made her eyes sparkle too, he suddenly noticed. He took a minute to just enjoy looking at her. She was beautiful.