“I only have about half a year before turning eighteen,” Tullen said. “In the Meadow, this is a time when young men and women are given more freedom. I suppose it’s a test of sorts—to see how well we do when we’re treated like adults. But we’re still expected to contribute to the community. So several months ago when I first asked them about staying this winter—”
“You’ve been working on this for months?” Narre interjected. She was shushed by Tavi, and Tullen continued.
“I have! The elders told me if I wanted to leave for an entire season, I would need to make sure I provided plenty of food for the community in advance. I have been focusing on extra hunting, and I’ve prepared a great quantity of dried, salted, and smoked meat. It’s even more than the game and fish I usually bring in during the winter, so the elders approved of my trip.
“When I was here earlier this week,” Tullen continued, “I spoke with Tavi’s mother. She graciously agreed that I can stay here, as long as I take on my share of the household responsibilities. I’ve been told I’ll become an expert at chopping wood.” He grimaced—Tavi knew that was his least favorite chore. He leaned toward her and confided, “I’m hoping to make myself useful by fishing all winter instead.”
Tavi couldn’t get the grin off her face. “This will be fantastic!” she said.
“We’ll have a lot of fun,” Tullen agreed.
“I don’t know if it’ll be fun; I’m just glad I’ll have someone to help me shovel snow off the chicken coop!” Tavi said, earning herself a shove from Tullen.
“I was listening for you all as I ran,” Tullen said. “Did I hear you discussing your training?”
“Yes,” Sall confirmed. “In fact, I’d like to know your views on receptive and effective gifts.”
“I’ve never heard of them,” Tullen replied.
“Receptive gifts allow the bearer to receive something,” Sall explained. “For instance, I receive emotions from those around me. Effective gifts, on the other hand, effect change. Narre’s abilities to break and bind are effective gifts.”
Tullen was nodding. “We talk about that in the Meadow too; your words are just fancier,” he said with a smile. “We call them ‘gifts that take’ and ‘gifts that give.’”
Narre said, “The midwives told us that sometimes people discover that their gift is both receptive and effective, even after years of thinking it was one or the other.”
“We’ve all been experimenting with our own gifts, but with no luck,” Sall said.
“We encourage people in the Meadow to experiment with gifts as well,” Tullen replied. “The extent of my hearing magic is the extra sensitivity of my ears—you’d say that gift is receptive. When the magic in my feet first awakened, it merely allowed me to run quickly. Later I discovered I could also sense barriers in my path, such as rocks and roots. So my stride gift is both effective and receptive.”
“Tavi, your stride gift is both, too!” Narre said. “But your feet’s effective skills are more . . . dramatic.”
Tavi groaned as the others laughed. “Obviously I discovered that one by accident,” she said, “but I’d like to know if any of my other gifts have another side to them.”
“You said you’ve been experimenting,” Tullen said. “How?”
“The midwives tell us to activate our gifts, then breathe deeply and relax,” Sall said.
Tavi wasn’t surprised when Tullen balked. “Breathe and relax—is that their solution for everything?”
“Not everything,” Narre said, “but it can be very helpful for some people.”
“Don’t get him started,” Tavi said. “He has very strong opinions on midwife training, though he’s never been to a day of our classes.” She turned to Tullen. “Let me guess, you have a better way?”
He responded with a smile. “I do! And since you asked, let’s start with you. Name one of your gifted areas—but not your feet.”
“My hands,” Tavi replied.
“Your hands,” Tullen confirmed. “First, a bit of education in case the midwives don’t know everything. If a gift includes both receptive and effective abilities, those abilities are usually related, or they work together in some way. Think about the gift in your hands. You can feel blood flowing.”
“I can also detect a broken bone, and sometimes I can even tell that someone has pain in a particular area,” Tavi interjected. “I discovered that last week in practicum.”
Tullen looked impressed. “Very good; maybe those midwives are helping you, just a bit!” Seeing Tavi’s look of exasperation, he continued. “Since your receptive gift relates to physiology, your effective gift—if you have one—will likely allow you to heal people.”
Tavi beamed. “I’ve always wanted that gift!”
“We don’t know if you have it,” Tullen said, “but if you do, I bet you won’t discover it by laying on the ground and taking lots of deep breaths.”
“So how am I supposed to figure it out?” Tavi asked.
“What helps you activate your gifts?” Tullen asked.
“You know the answer—it’s desire.”
“Doesn’t it make sense, then, for your other magical skills to be tied to desire as well?” Tavi nodded. Tullen reached into his pack and pulled out a small knife in a leather sheath.
Eyes wide, Narre asked, “What are you going to do with that?”
“We’re going to follow in Savala’s footsteps,” Tullen said. “Remember the story of his awakening? He accidentally healed himself after he stepped on a thorn, and then he cut his own arm open, to see if he could heal it too.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for Tavi to cut her arm open,” Sall said. “It may get infected.”
Tullen replied, “I wouldn’t make her cut her own arm—I’ll cut mine instead. And I’m not worried about infection; I keep the inside of my knife sheath coated in tora root paste.”
“Tora root prevents infection?” Tavi asked.
“Meadow secret,” Tullen said. “I’ll probably get thrown out of the community if they find out I told you.” He was smiling as he pulled the knife out of its sheath.
Tavi covered her eyes. “I can’t watch this!” She kept her hands up for several seconds. “Is it done yet?”
“Not even close,” Sall said.
Tavi peeked through her fingers and saw Tullen touching the skin of his forearm with the knife. “Cutting oneself on purpose is a lot harder than it sounds,” he said, taking and releasing a deep breath.
“Just keep breathing like that; the midwives say it will help you relax,” Narre teased.
“Very funny,” Tullen said—and then, with a small flick of his wrist, it was done.
Tavi covered her eyes again. “I saw you do it! I didn’t want to see you doing it!”
“Well, I’m bleeding now, so let’s see if you can do something about it,” Tullen said. “Uncover your eyes.”
Tavi pulled her hands down. She drew back when she saw blood running out of the small cut in Tullen’s arm. “I don’t do too well with blood,” she said.
Tullen’s eyes widened. “You’re telling me this now?”
“Does it hurt?” Tavi asked.
“It does—more than I thought it would,” Tullen admitted. “Come on, Tavi, let’s try this.”
Hesitantly, Tavi moved right in front of Tullen. “What do I do?” she asked.
“You’ll have to touch it,” he replied. Her eyes widened.
“It’s the same blood you feel when your gift is active,” Sall said. “It’s just on the outside now, instead of the inside.”
“I’m not sure that helps,” Tavi said.
“First you need to activate your touch gift,” Tullen said. “I wish that had occurred to me earlier. Can you do it quickly, Tavi?”
Without speaking, Tavi closed her eyes, held out her hands and pictured a cold, juicy pickle. Warmth flooded her hands, and she opened her eyes, beaming.
“You’re getting good at that!” Tullen said. “Only your touch gift is acti
ve, right?”
Tavi nodded. “I’ve been practicing!” She had only in the previous fortnight learned to activate one gift at a time. It didn’t always work, but she was glad it was cooperating this time.
“All right,” Tullen said. “Reach out one hand, and put it on the cut.”
Tavi fought her gag reflex as she complied, her fingers touching split skin and warm blood.
Tullen gasped the moment her hand connected to his skin. “Sava, that hurts,” he said. “Let’s keep moving on this. Look in my eyes, Tavi, if that makes it easier.” She lifted her eyes to him, and he said, “I think it may help you first to focus on what your gift is telling you. What do you feel?”
“I feel your blood pumping under the skin, as it always does,” Tavi said. “It’s flowing rapidly right now.”
Tullen’s eyes narrowed. “That’s because it hurts. A lot. Keep going; what else do you feel?”
“I feel the cut—well, of course I feel it, but differently than I would without my gift.” Tavi paused, trying to find the right words. “I can feel the shape of the cut’s edges very precisely. I also feel the blood getting thicker, starting to clot.”
“Good,” Tullen said. “Now close your eyes. I want you to be aware that you’re trying to heal the cut, but then focus on something you desire. Just like you do when you activate your gifts.”
Tavi did as instructed. Eyes closed, she pulled up a mental picture of the cut closing. Then she thought of pickles. It didn’t work. Her attention was riveted by the textures of broken skin and sticky blood under her fingertips, and she had no desire for pickles. Or for any other food. Possibly ever again. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Tavi forced her mind to picture the cut healing. What else did she desire?
Her awareness shifted to the blood flowing deeper in Tullen’s arm—warm, carrying life throughout his body. Life—yes, he was full of life, overflowing with humor and intelligence and magic. And he would be here with her all winter.
But winter wouldn’t last forever. Tavi imagined Tullen running back to the Meadow, sprinting through the green forest of spring. How long could her friend keep living between two worlds before he had to choose one?
Stay, her mind begged. Please stay.
A small gasp escaped Tavi’s mouth as she felt a dramatically warmer beam of magic enter her hands. The two puzzle pieces of flesh moved under her touch, reaching toward each other. She felt another jolt of magic, of power, as the broken skin reconnected at the outer edges of the cut, then continued sealing toward the middle. Tavi’s eyes remained closed, but she knew the moment the healing was complete. Her gifted fingers detected blood flowing through tiny, repaired vessels, covered by unmarred skin.
When Tavi opened her eyes, she was greeted with three joyful smiles. Elation filled her for a moment until she looked down at her hand. She stood and stumbled toward the edge of the clearing, barely making it to the trees before she stopped, leaned over, and vomited.
When she was done, her friends were standing nearby, staring at her, their faces concerned.
“Are you all right?” Narre asked.
Tavi swallowed the gorge that still fought to rise. She held her hand out as far away from her as she could. “There’s still blood on my fingers,” she managed to say.
She could have sworn Tullen was holding back a laugh as he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her hand clean.
Chapter Twenty-Three
My most fervent wish is to return to you, my love. But my work is not yet done here. Everywhere I go, people need the gift of healing that I offer. They need to hear the truth of Sava’s power. If I do not heal them, if I do not share the truth with them, who will? Please tell me you will wait for me.
-From Savala’s Collected Letters, Volume 1
“Finally!” Tavi breathed as she exited her house and began the walk toward school.
The season’s first snowstorm had come later than usual, but it had led to the worst winter Tavi could remember. School and training had been canceled more often than not, and she was thrilled that the roads were again passable so she could get out of the house.
Both Seph and Ista were in bed with bad head colds, and Tavi walked alone. She left early, hoping to catch Narre at home so they could walk together.
Not long after she passed the turnoff to Sall’s house, Tavi saw his brothers meandering down the street. She ran to catch up. “Where’s Sall?” she asked.
Berroll, his youngest brother, shrugged. “He left early. He’s been doing that lately.”
“Thanks, Berr.” Tavi passed the boys and continued her brisk walk down the road. When she reached Narre’s house, she knocked.
The door opened, and Jilla smiled. “Hi, Tavi!” she said.
“Hi, Aunt Jilla,” Tavi replied. “Is Narre here? I thought I’d walk to school with her.”
“Sall came by a couple of minutes ago, and they’re walking together,” Jilla said. “You can walk with Elim and Gillun, if you’d like—I think they’re about to leave.”
“That’s all right,” Tavi said with a smile. “I’ll try to catch up with Narre and Sall.” She waved and returned to the street, walking even faster.
Tavi had nearly given up hope of catching up to her friends when she rounded a bend and saw them ahead. She kept up her pace and closed the gap.
When she was close enough to have a better view, Tavi’s eyes widened. Were they—? Yes, yes, they were. She was quite sure of it. She sped up a little more, and Narre must have heard her, because she looked back—and dropped Sall’s hand. Sall’s hand!
Tavi barely had time to soak in this new information before she caught up to her friends, who had stopped to wait for her. She blurted, “You were holding hands!” and regretted it when Sall’s face turned red, and Narre let out a nervous giggle.
Then it was quiet for several seconds before Tavi said, “I guess we should walk?” at the same time that Narre said, “I’m glad the storm is over.”
Another awkward silence descended.
Sall spoke up. “We should talk about this.”
Narre nodded. “Yes, but let’s keep going.”
Their boots crunched on the slushy road as they resumed their walk. Sall cleared his throat. “Well, the secret is out,” he said.
Tavi frowned, not liking the word “secret.” She asked, “How long have you been . . . uh . . . holding hands?”
“Just a few weeks,” Narre said.
Tavi nodded and willed her mouth into a smile. “I think it’s great!” she said.
Narre stopped, turned to Tavi, and grabbed her hand. “Really?” Narre asked. “Do you think it’s great, really? We didn’t tell you because we didn’t want it to be . . . strange. But if you think it’s great, that would make me so happy.”
Tavi’s misgivings about the secret fled, and this time her smile was genuine. She pulled Narre into a tight hug. “Really, Narre. It’s great!”
They walked in silence, but this time it was more comfortable. In another minute, the school was in sight. Narre turned to Sall. “Why don’t you go put our satchels in the classroom?” she asked.
“Sure, I’ll do that once we get there,” Sall said.
Narre looked pointedly at him. “I want to talk to Tavi alone.”
Sall’s eyebrows jumped up. “Oh! Why didn’t you say so?” He let out a small laugh and took Narre’s proffered satchel. “See you there,” he said, speeding up his pace.
Narre and Tavi slowed. When Sall was too far to hear them, Narre said, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” She talked faster, the words pouring out. “It caught me by surprise, but all we’ve done is hold hands, and I haven’t even been alone with you since this started, so there was never a good time to talk about it.”
“I understand,” Tavi said. “It just caught me off guard.”
Narre smiled. “I think it’s perfect. You have Tullen, and I have Sall.”
Tavi’s eyebrows drew together. “What do you mean, I have Tullen?”
; Narre faltered. “Well, you . . . you have Tullen.”
“Sure, in the same way I ‘have you’ or I ‘have Sall,’ ” Tavi said. “Tullen’s my friend.”
Narre turned toward Tavi and with a little smile, said, “Are you sure that’s all he is?”
“Yes!” Tavi exclaimed. “Well, he’s also like my brother—that’s all!”
“Your brother.” Narre was skeptical.
“We’ve even talked about it,” Tavi said. “He’s like my gifted older brother. I’m like his little sister.”
Narre shook her head and laughed. “All I know is, when he came and told us he was staying for the whole winter, and you jumped up and hugged him, he looked very happy. A lot happier than I’d expect a brother to look.”
“I think you’re seeing what you want to see,” Tavi said. “It’s obvious he’d never look at me that way. He’s three years older than me! And look at me—well, you know.”
Now it was Narre’s turn to be confused. “No, I don’t know. What?”
Tavi gestured to her figure that was still short and rail-thin. When she had finally begun to develop, she had been so excited, but she hadn’t grown much. Tavi was sure she would always be stuck with small breasts and skinny hips. She looked enviously at her cousin, who, at age thirteen, was occasionally mistaken for an adult. Tavi said, “I still look like a little girl. Or maybe even a little boy.”
“You do not look like a little boy! Or a little girl!” Narre protested. “You’re adorable!”
Tavi laughed in disbelief. “Oh, that’s exactly what every boy wants, an adorable girl!”
“I meant it as a good thing!” Narre said. They were entering the schoolyard, and she lowered her voice and led Tavi under a tree, where they continued to talk. “I’ve always been a little jealous of how tiny you are!” Narre admitted. “Think of all the women in Oren who are married! There are plenty of men out there who like women who are fat or skinny or tall or short or anything else. Who’s to say Tullen doesn’t like adorable, tiny women?”
Tavi couldn’t help but laugh. “We’re getting away from the real point,” she said. “I don’t like Tullen! Well, I like him—but as a friend or a brother. It doesn’t matter what kind of girl he’s attracted to, because I have never looked at him that way. I have far too much to think about with trying to control my gifts. I don’t need to think about boys right now!” When she heard Narre’s laughter, Tavi said, “This isn’t a joke! Do you believe me?”
Facing the Sun Page 17
