Tempest

by Mercedes Lackey

  Zanner, still strapped to the board, chuckled weakly. “If I say no, it’s not like I can get away, right?”

  Serril blinked. “Are you usually this calm in the face of a possibly dangerous wound?”

  “Yes, yes I am, and everyone here will tell you it’s my wicked sense of humor.” Zanner wiggled four fingers a bit in a come hither gesture and said, “Yes, you have my permission. Just don’t go poking into anything that’s not your business, you understand?” The finger wiggling somehow managed to take in chest and hips.

  “Unless I’m bedding you, your gender is none of my business as your Healer; unless the knife went that far off target?” That got him a weak chuckle, and Serril went around to Zanner’s other side to find that the knife had cut through part of the cartilage of the ear. Most of it was still attached, but there was enough blood to concern Serril.

  “It’s a good thing you had a Healer nearby. Reattaching this should be the work of a few moments.” Serril looked up to see some very blank expressions, and he blinked. He couldn’t tell what they were thinking, even though he hoped they were glad to have him available. Had they never had an accident that required a Healer before? “Ah, yes, some clean water would be good, so I can wash out the wound before I Heal it. Um. Are the knives clean?”

  “I boil them in hot water before the show; the last thing I want to do is run the risk of making Zanner sick if the knife doesn’t fly true.” Even if today were not Jayin’s sixteenth birthday, she was the very model of a grumpy teenager, crossed arms and all. Serril was already off balance by how the performers were behaving around him, but at least her behavior was more or less normal.

  “Okay, that’s better than some of my students, so points to you for that.” Someone handed him a waterskin, and he rinsed as much of Zanner’s blood away from both sides of the ear as he could. Then he set to Healing, and as usual, most of his concentration was taken up by the knitting together of flesh, cartilage, and blood vessel. But he was still aware enough to realize that Zanner’s ear had been cut more than once and that it had been Healed more than once as well. And that the people standing around him were quite frankly as disapproving of him Healing one of their own as any Holderkin who’d had to rely on herbs and fermented barley for their healing.

  When he finally stood up, the most muscular man he’d ever seen (could I ask him to pose for some of our students learning musculature?) escorted him politely but firmly back to the gathering space in front of their stage. A small coin was left in his hand, and before he could say anything else, a makeshift curtain had been dropped in front of the stage, and he was left staring at a mystery.

  Which was precisely when Tessa found him. “What in the blazes are you doing away from the Collegium, Serril? You should have heard the shouting between Ostel and Brone this time, and I am in no way ready to put myself between them. I have a horror of being the Dean; otherwise I’d step in and tell them both to back down! We need your cool head, please?”

  He followed, certain as anything that there was a mystery here at the Avelard Family Traveling Show, but just as certain that there was nothing he could do at the moment.

  • • •

  Serril rushed out of the Collegium just after sunrise, this time in proper Greens, headed down to where the traveling show had performed yesterday. He hoped against hope that they hadn’t moved on, even though he remembered their expressions when he’d healed Zanner.

  He was bleary from a lack of sleep and crying into his pillow. Ostel and Brone had indeed been deep into a shouting match over who would be the next Dean, and he’d spent far too long calming them down. And then even longer shivering in his bed, and then under it. After a night like the last one, Serril reflected, he’d be better off disappearing into the Palace Archives, where nobody could find him. Instead, he was on what he hoped was not a wild goose chase.

  And indeed, the traveling show was still set up as though for another day’s worth of performances, even though it was too early for a crowd to form. The curtain from yesterday blocked the stage from view, though Serril suspected there were plenty of ways to see through the curtain out to the audience. He paced back and forth in front of the curtain for a few minutes, trying to maintain some level of politeness while trying to figure out a way to get someone’s, anyone’s, attention. He wouldn’t go through the curtain just because he had suspicions, but all the same he couldn’t just wait outside until someone invited him in. Finally, he bit his lip, planted himself in front of the stage, and took a comically deep breath. He was no Bard, but he’d sung enough to know the kinds of songs that got people’s attention, especially the songs that made them ask you to just stop singing.

  But before the first note even came out of his mouth, one of the performers he’d seen yesterday jumped through the curtain, put a gentle finger across his mouth, and sighed. “No need to torture us, or sing, or whatever it was you’d planned on doing. Come on back. Ronnet was fairly certain you’d be back, and nobody would take a bet against him.” She gave him a lopsided grin. “I’m Conna. Goodness, have you been up all night worrying at this? Do we need to send for a Healer?” Serril was almost certain she was teasing, but for some reason this hit a particularly sensitive spot, and he felt the tears well up in his eyes.

  “Conna, are you making someone cry again?” Zanner called out from the curtain, but when both performers saw Serril, they jumped down, and between the two of them escorted the Healer backstage to the open area where he’d healed Zanner just the day before. It all happened so quickly, including the water in a mug and the camp chair, that Serril didn’t quite have time to completely fall apart.

  The well-muscled man knelt by Serril, made sure he drank water, and then said, “I’m Ronnet, strongman, accountant, and one of Jayin’s fathers. You’ve met Ella, her mother, and when you’re a bit more together, I’ll introduce the rest of the family.” Serril nodded miserably, drank more water, and pondered how in the world he could salvage anything from the disaster of going to pieces in front of these people.

  Another man, this one a warm brown to Ronnet’s blond, knelt to Serril’s other side. “Hallo. I’m Hallen, Master of the Show, and the other of Jayin’s fathers. We’ve been in Haven a few days, and we’ve heard some rumors about upset at the Healer’s Collegium, what with the previous Dean having passed away a few weeks ago.” Hallen hummed a moment. “I’m going to guess you’re not one of the candidates, but you’re probably stuck in the middle, and it’s easier to just not be there when things get unpleasant.”

  Serril looked up into Hallen’s face at that, but there was only a knowing smile and warm brown eyes.

  “You’d ask me how I know that, but truthfully it’s just a matter of knowing people as well as I do and seeing how you reacted yesterday and today. I have to be able to read an audience to know which parts of the show they’ll enjoy. Good Healer, you have the air of a man brought low by events, heart-hurt and weary, and you’re also wearing your robes backward.”

  Serril made to stand up, almost completely mortified now, and Hallen’s smile immediately faded. “Gods, man, I was teasing about your robes.” He whistled, and Conna, Ella, and Jayin immediately bustled over with a platter of bread and cheeses. “Eat, you’ve likely not put anything in your stomach since yestereve, or I’m not a father.” He paused. “And perhaps you need to unburden yourself to some very discreet people.” Serril heard a strangled gasp from somewhere around him, but before he could look around, Ronnet had gently pushed him back into the chair and put a piece of bread in his hand.

  Overcome by kindness, Serril bowed his head, wept, ate bread and cheese, and told the assembled performers not just about the politics in the Collegium but about why he was reacting so poorly to it. Some part of his mind was yelling, screaming, asking him why he was sharing private things with a group of strangers, a traveling show. Another part of him was grateful to have an audience for once, instead of being the aud
ience.

  By the time he’d finished his food and water, he’d shared some of the darker things about his childhood, and he felt at least a little better. The faces around him (when he’d been able to look up) were more than sympathetic, and there had even been a few mutters about finding incompetent parents and hanging them upside down in the rafters of their attic.

  “Well.” This time it was Ronnet who spoke. “Sure as I know my numbers, that does not sound like any kind of a healthy family. And let me guess. You’ve not been to a Mindhealer, even though you’re up at the Collegium, because other people have had worse childhoods, and it’s not that you’re broken as much as you’re a bit sore from dealing with all of that. Am I too far off?”

  Serril just stared at the strongman. Jayin giggled at his expression, and said, “My father Ronnet says it takes a strong man to balance the books and a stronger man to balance people.”

  Serril looked down at the ground again, even more certain that he’d made a colossal blunder by coming here to find the Healer hiding in the traveling show.

  Ella put a hand on Serril’s knee and sighed. Serril looked up into green eyes and saw unshed tears there. “We’ve had more than our fair share of people come to us just as wounded and sore from dealing with their families, which is why we made this family all on our own. We’re not Healers or Mindhealers, but we make sure that the people who spend time with us get a healthy family, instead of a hurtful one, so they can see what good families are like. Zanner’s family is Holderkin, and so couldn’t stomach a child who didn’t fit their mold. Conna and Hesby and Wenn, they’ve got their own stories to tell; and Zanner has given me permission to share.”

  The woman who’d teased Serril at the curtain said, “I’m sorry I managed to jab a thumb into your wound. I’d have teased you a little differently if I’d known. That’s one of the things we do for each other here, is figure out where the sore spots are, and figure out ways to either work around them or help make those spots a bit less sore.” She smiled, and handed him a piece of cheese. “My mother drank herself senseless, and I was the eldest, so I never had a childhood. Being here? I get to have siblings instead of children.”

  Serril took the cheese, and nibbled thoughtfully as Hesby talked about parents who disappeared for days on end, and nodded as Wenn described a situation somewhat similar to his own. He could see how they worked and how they helped each other. The one thing he couldn’t be fully sure of was which one of them was the Healer; but he knew it would be something of a crime to take that person away from the family.

  Finally, he sighed and stood up. “I came here to look for the Healer among you. I’m sure you’ve already guessed that. Someone is in need of training, because they’ve got a Gift, but I can’t take that person away from this family—as healthy as it is—just to throw them into a situation where we are most definitely not a family right now. It just isn’t fair in the slightest to whichever of you has the Gift. I’m sure I’d get thrown out and my Greens taken away if I mentioned this to anyone at the Collegium, but I’m also sure that I won’t say anything to anyone there.

  “All I ask is that you maybe stay in Haven a few more days, let me teach what I can, and come back to the city as often as you can. Maybe winter here, so that I can sneak away from time to time and teach whoever it is.” He sighed again. “I’m fairly sure that I don’t have to worry about misuse of the Gift; my main concern is that you don’t hurt yourself in using it. That is a danger, if you’re not trained. And just in case, I can train you on more than just gross anatomy and the various coughs and colds you’re likely to get by traveling all over.” He smiled slightly. “Thank you for the food and water, thank you for listening, and I’ll be on my way now.” As he turned toward Ronnet, to ask to be escorted out of their backstage, Jayin stepped up and gave him a very serious look.

  “What if I came with you voluntarily?” She shook her head as the rest of the family gasped around her, and turned to face them. “We’ve had some really close calls, both with you all and with me. I’ve been lucky as anything so far, but that can’t last. There’s too much I don’t know and too much risk that next time I’ll nick Zanner’s neck and not know how to put my dear sib back together.” She turned to Serril and smiled at him. “Plus, it seems like while you’re helping me, I could be helping you. After all, you don’t really have a family, do you? You could be an Avelard by adoption, the way everyone else here is.”

  Serril opened his mouth to say something, and instead he started crying again. Within moments, he was enveloped in a hug, everyone in the traveling show huddled around him, murmuring reassurances. Jayin held him from one side, Ronnet from the other, and Serril felt safe for the first time in a very long time.

  Jayin laughed as she looked up at him. “Besides, I’m pretty sure we can’t convince you to run away and join a traveling show, you know? But if I go with you, you have to make me a promise or two.”

  Shakily, Serril asked, “What are they?”

  “You need to get yourself to a Mindhealer. You’ve gone through so much, even if you haven’t told us all of it, and if I’m going to have you as a mentor, you need to be able to handle me and my quirks. That’s the first thing. The other thing is that you let us adopt you right now. I’m pretty sure mother and fathers won’t object, and that way, when the show comes back to Haven, you can visit your family and have an excuse to not be up at the Collegium.”

  “You’re not even my Trainee and you’re already telling me how to run my life,” Serril said with a wobbly smile on his face. “You’re right about the Mindhealer, of course, which will likely make you insufferable for at least the first month. And if your family will have me—”

  From behind him, Hallen said quite clearly, “There’s no question here in my mind. Do any of you have any objections?” Before anyone could say anything, he added, “That means serious objections, Zanner, not something silly like he reattached your ear backward, or that we already have a Healer in the family, we don’t need two of them.” After a moment of silence, everyone laughed, including Serril.

  And once the laughter died down, Hallen, Ronnet, and Ella all took Serril’s hands, and Ronnet said, “Healer Serril, whatever family you came from, whatever your history, know this: Should you accept our offer, from this day forward, you are an Avelard. We will come if you call, we will feed you if you are hungry, we will hold you while you weep, and we will support you as you do good in the world. All we ask in return is that you do the same for us. Do you accept?”

  “With gratitude and joy, I do.” Serril’s tears rolled down his face, his cheeks hurt from smiling, and as his family cheered and hugged him again, he felt a knot just under his heart loosen. This is what family is supposed to feel like.

  Medley

  Jessica Schlenker & Michael Z. Williamson

  “What’ll you have?” the innkeeper asked.

  “Blackberry mead and—what’s your special of the day?” Jeris’ last trip through here had been personal, before his mission with the Shin’a’in. Blurry memories had prompted him to halt early for the night. Halath, his Companion, had agreed, as they were enough ahead of schedule.

  “Mutton stew and bread,” the man replied.

  “That, please.”

  “Girl’ll bring your stew ’round.”

  He nodded and then meandered to an empty corner table.

  Lost in recollections, he started when the food was put down in front of him. He glanced up to meet her startled expression.

  “Um, hello.” He sort of smiled. She was probably married now, her figure softened. She smiled back reflexively, then winced as the owner yelped.

  “Excuse me,” she muttered, heading in that direction. The tavern owner stood, stiff and angry, scowling at a little girl. Jeris gritted his teeth and didn’t interfere. The barmaid—matron now, apparently—stopped beside the girl, obviously interceding for her. The girl nodded glumly
, darted behind the counter to gather supplies, and set about cleaning tables.

  She kept her head down as she worked, posture sullen and dispirited. Jeris watched her in distant concern.

  :Does she look well cared for?: Halath asked.

  :Yes,: he replied. :Just unhappy.:

  :She’s young,: his Companion replied. :No doubt she’d rather be playing than working.:

  However, when the girl looked up and met his eyes, he felt as if he had been slapped. From the earliest he could recall, he’d heard how his sister and he looked like twins. But for the girl’s sun-lightened hair, he was looking at her twin, twenty years past. :Lord and Lady,: he breathed to his Companion. The girl stared back, studying his face.

  The barmaid—he couldn’t recall her name yet—stopped cautiously by the table. “Is it not to your liking?”

  “No, indeed,” he replied. “It’s all delicious, much as I remember.”

  She blushed and glanced at the girl. “Finish up quickly, Cara. Grandpa needs help with the dishes.”

  The girl looked at her mother and back at Jeris, questions obvious in her expression. “But why—”

  “Now, Cara.”

  “Yes, Momma.”

  “She’s a pretty girl,” he offered carefully once Cara was out of earshot.

  Her mother smiled ruefully. “Are you taking a room tonight?”

  “Yes,” Jeris replied, even as Halath tartly commented, :You’d better!:

  She smiled again, less rueful, and left to tend to other patrons. Jeris watched her for a moment before cleaning his bowl and stacking it with the mug. He appeared to have given her more than enough work the last time he’d visited. No sense in giving her more than necessary now.

  • • •

  His room secured, Jeris sought comfort with Halath. It could be coincidence the little girl looked so much like his sister . . . Heralds weren’t supposed to have accidents like this. Their training on the matter was strict, and female Heralds took appropriate precautions.