The Godseeker Duet

by David A Willson

  Almit made inquiries about their target but found no indication that Khoury or her companions had passed this way. When the weather persisted, Cross directed Almit to replenish their provisions and prepare to continue south, despite the hardship it would be with the wind and cold.

  Even with new horses and gear, the weather slowed them significantly, and it took three days to travel to a small town called Glennway. Upon arrival, they headed directly to the post office, where Almit retrieved a dispatch that awaited them. Finally! In the note, Khoury disclosed that she was still following the group and that they were traveling north.

  Could they have missed the travelers? Passed them in transit? They had closely scrutinized all on the road, but perhaps the group had stayed in the wild as they journeyed? That would have slowed them considerably but would also make them hard to find. Cross doubted this was the case—the watcher would have alerted him to that in the note, wouldn't she? Unless Khoury was not as loyal as Vorick hoped.

  If they were going north, they may have veered east. Could they be going to Eastway? The abbey at Eastway was built around the oldest cathedral in the realm. Educated people knew of the early church's work with the translation of the Breshi language at Eastway. Perhaps the old man was a scholar—or maybe a cleric?

  Cross decided to take the road to Eastway, which was less than a hundred miles away. He ordered Almit to send a note to update Vorick on their progress, then he resupplied for the next few days of travel. He would find the girl and take her to Vorick. Then he could return to his army and be rid of this bothersome errand.

  20

  Training

  Crone’s Hill

  Twenty Days after Announcement

  The sun had not yet risen when Mykel was awoken by Anne.

  “Today you run,“ she said.

  "I don't understand," he said. "What do you want?"

  "I don't want anything. Do you know what you want?"

  It was a good question, and it took a moment to spur his sleepy thoughts into action. Running away from Dimmitt had not been his desire and had seemed like a reaction rather than a decision. She was offering him a choice? He missed Sammy but couldn't bear to leave Nara's side. He had magic, but it seemed of little use other than to keep him breathing. If he could learn to fight, with armor and weapons, to protect those he cared about, that would be something. Yes, that's what he wanted.

  "I want Nara to be safe. I want to go back to Sammy and keep him safe. People chase us. They hurt us. I try to fight back, but I don't know how. I can hunt, I can work, I can run and swim and climb mountains, but none of that matters because I can't fight!"

  The exasperation in his voice drew a chuckle from Anne.

  "That's better. I wondered when the warrior would show up. Would you like to learn to fight, Mykel?"

  "Yes!"

  "Then you run.”

  They ascended to the top of the hill above the cabin, where a few windblown birch trees stood at the center of a wide, flat area. They watched the first few rays of light from the sun illuminate the plateau, the hardy trees silhouetted against the orange and red colors growing on the horizon.

  "Take off your shoes," she said. "You won't ever need them again."

  He cocked his head with a quizzical look as he removed them, then gazed at the ground below. Sharp rocks and sticks were scattered throughout the windblown landscape. Did she plan on gentle exercises? He would hate to tear his feet up on this stuff.

  "Now run," she said.

  "Run?"

  "Do you understand the word?" she asked.

  "Where?"

  "Around," she said, directing him to run around the trees. "Until I tell you to stop."

  He started running around the trees, his feet occasionally landing on a sharp rock or stick. Sometimes it was merely uncomfortable, but other times a toe or his heel would hit something sharp, and pain would lance up his lower leg. The pain grew with each step.

  "Wider," she told him. "Bigger circles."

  He skirted the plateau's edges, continuing to run, pain increasing. This was training?

  "Faster!"

  He ran faster, limping as his feet bled from multiple wounds, and the pain invited doubts, doubts that threatened his success. Every young man sought glory, but that didn't mean they were worthy or capable of it. Could he really do this? He began to doubt that Anne was an ally and wondered if she was injuring him on purpose through this supposed training session. But his eagerness to learn how to fight overcame his misgivings, and he continued.

  "Wider," she said again, and he made bigger circles, but he now encountered the descending edges of the hill, and his ankles strained to manage the angled slope.

  "Faster," she said again.

  Mykel began to tire, his ankles weakening under the burden, the soles of his feet hot with pain from the repeated impacts and cuts.

  "Turn around," she ordered.

  He turned to run the other way, straining his ankles in the other direction. Although the change was welcome at first, after a few moments his ankles began to throb again. Red stains marked the ground from previous passes over the same rocks with bleeding feet.

  "Faster." She raised her voice. He had descended so low on his route around the crown of the hill that he occasionally lost sight of her standing on the plateau above.

  "Wider!"

  His lungs heaved, his legs weakened, and the ache in his ankles grew. Then he stumbled and fell, his knee impacting squarely against a rock, tearing his trousers. Blood flowed from the dirt-encrusted gash. He wanted to take a moment to catch his breath and recover from the pain screaming up his leg, but Anne sprinted to him, leaning over the edge of the hill, her face tight and angry, shaking her walking stick in the air. "Did I tell you to stop?"

  "My knee," he said, protesting. "And my feet."

  "Then fix them!"

  The tattoo. Of course!

  "You should never fear pain again, boy. You have a gift that reduces injury to mere annoyance. Few wounds will slow you again. Keep running!"

  Anne's mention of his gift renewed his confidence. He wasn't cursed; he was gifted. And someone besides Nara now recognized that. He could do this; he was worthy. He had to be. Mykel started to close his eyes to summon the image and feed the rune but was startled by Anne's scream again.

  "Go!"

  "But I was going to…"

  "Now!"

  He ran. Bleeding. Ankles aching. Feet hot with pain. She followed from her vantage point on the edge of the plateau, screaming at him.

  "Fix it!"

  He closed his eyes to heal and lost his footing, crashing again to the ground, the wind knocked out of him.

  More yelling. The stress was overwhelming his ability to focus on running, and confusion swarmed him as he struggled to understand what she wanted. He wanted to learn to fight. To protect Nara. He accepted that training would be difficult and was grateful for Anne's efforts, but he couldn't understand what she now expected, and this felt more like abuse than training. How could he heal if he couldn't stop?

  An idea floated into his thoughts, pushing past the pain and confusion.

  Perhaps he didn't need to stop.

  He picked himself up again, running despite the agony, and tried to summon the image of the rune as he continued the path around the hill. It hid at the edge of his vision, and it was hard to visualize with his eyes open.

  She compelled him to run faster, along an ever-wider path around the hill, descending as the incline increased, his lungs heaving with pain. Sweat dripped down his brow. He was accustomed to working; he often lifted heavy burdens for hours on end, but this was different.

  He tried to feed the rune again, as much as possible while still concentrating on running around the hill, avoiding the trees, bushes, and rocks. He gave the symbol some energy, and it flared ever so slightly. The pain in his knee faded, evidence that his efforts were bearing fruit. The ache in his ankles then lessened. He ran faster, continuing to feed the rune, and the
ache in his lungs let up, despite the fervor in his exertion. The sharp pains in his soles abated entirely.

  Her voice cracked as she shouted at him, but she was far above him now. Anne's admonishments were pushing him to go longer than he thought possible, incurring pain and injury, but then healing himself. He learned that by flaring the health tattoo, he could work himself harder than ever before. Not only did it heal the pain in his feet and legs, it removed the pain in his lungs as if he had not been running at all. Could he run forever? What a feeling! He was not a boy anymore; he was a man, with magic and power.

  He ran faster, descending the hill, and after a time he realized that several moments had passed since Anne had given any commands. He enjoyed both the silence and the wind on his face as he dashed up to the windblown trees on the plateau and back down the other side. He leaped and sprinted, and when he tired, he flared the health rune and became replenished. When he twisted an ankle or tore open his heel on a rock, or fell and crushed an elbow, he repaired himself. He didn't possess unlimited endurance, but those limits were no longer measured in the way a normal person would. He began to feel a mental fatigue, a spiritual emptiness growing within. When this reservoir ran low, only then would he stop. But not yet.

  He marveled at the implications of his gift. Injury no longer presented great risk, as Anne said, and pain would no longer carry the same sort of fear for him. Mykel thought back to the lessons from school about the different gifts people might receive, but he remembered nothing like this. Could he be unique? He wanted to share this moment with Sammy, to tell his brother he had a real gift. He may not have become the bear his brother had hoped for, but in many ways, this was better. Maybe he really could protect Nara. He may not yet know how to wield a sword, but he would learn soon. No matter who came for them—the church or the army—it would be hard to kill him now, wouldn't it?

  Eventually, he and the others could return to Dimmitt together, save Sammy, and find a place to raise him away from Pop.

  Mykel smiled wide and ran ever faster.

  Nara rose and walked out the cabin door, then stretched and inhaled the cool morning air. After a few moments, Anne stepped up onto the porch and stood with her, looking out to the northeast, taking in the sun.

  "Hungry?" Anne asked.

  "Oh, thank you, but no," Nara said. "I just woke." She squinted at the brightening landscape, and pain lanced across her vision.

  "Noise and light are the worst, aren't they?" Anne asked.

  "They are," she said. Especially in the morning. "Is it so obvious?"

  "You don't hide your emotions very well."

  "So Mykel says." Nara chuckled. "Sometimes he knows what I'm feeling before I do. Um, did you want to eat? I can get you something."

  "Oh, I don't eat much anymore. Or often," she said. "He gives me strength."

  "Dei?"

  "Something like that."

  "What do you mean?" Nara asked.

  "He never told me His name."

  "You mean, He talks to you?"

  "Sure. He doesn't talk to you?"

  "Nope," Nara said, disappointed.

  "Maybe you're just not listening," Anne said.

  "Yeah, maybe."

  The light from the rising sun grew ever brighter on the horizon, and the Twins stood tall in the distance.

  "Anne?" Nara asked.

  "Yes?"

  "Why am I so different?"

  "You are quite the creation, little one," she said, putting her hand on Nara's shoulder. "Some of His best work."

  "I used to think I was a demon."

  "Nonsense. But you are different."

  "Tell me," Nara said. "Please."

  "Of course." Anne gestured to a couple of stools on one side of the porch, crudely made of sections cut from a tree, the thick bark surrounding the stools were distinctive of cottonwood. There were many cottonwoods in Dimmitt, and the sight of the wood made her homesick. They sat.

  "Magic is from Heaven, Nara. It is divine energy."

  Nara focused intently on the old woman as she explained.

  "In the scriptures, you have heard how Dei and Kai made the world together, but Dei wanted to make humans as well."

  "Yes," Nara said. "He did so over Kai's objections. Father Taylor taught this in scripture classes."

  "Well, I am not so sure about all that scripture stuff. They get a lot of that wrong, but I am confident of this," Anne said. She adjusted herself on the stool. "Dei, Kai, whatever you want to call the Creator; He made us from Himself. We are part of Him."

  "Okay."

  "But He gave us bodies. Bodies to keep His magic, His self, His energy contained."

  Nara was intrigued with Anne's different perspective on Dei, her maverick brand of faith. It seemed so different from what she'd heard before, and she was eager to hear more.

  "But some of us are broken," Anne said.

  "Well, lots of folks have problems, right?"

  "No, I mean some of us are really broken. Flawed. Physically."

  "Oh. My scar. My sister."

  "Exactly. You were literally broken in two, by a surgeon. A single human being, in a sense, divided into two. Few could understand the significance. That body of yours is meant to contain the god-stuff inside you, but it has cracks. Leaking."

  "I often feel broken inside. Is it that obvious?"

  "I am broken too. Blind in one eye, and my other functions poorly at best."

  "And Mykel. His mouth."

  "Yes," Anne confirmed. "A cleft palate."

  "So, only broken people have magic?"

  "No. Everyone has magic, Nara. Everyone has a piece of the divine inside them. We are all of equal value, from the tiniest babe to the grandest king."

  "But only the broken leak it."

  "Yes. And just because someone has a physical ailment, defect, or disease doesn't mean they will bear magic. Gifted are rare."

  "Will it all leak out eventually?" Nara asked.

  "Oh no. If that happens, we die."

  "That almost happened to us. In Dimmitt."

  "Yes. At your announcement ceremony. But you didn't die. You and Mykel recovered. Although it takes time, you will recover the magic."

  "Does Dei give us more when we run low?"

  "Perhaps. I'm not sure how that works."

  Nara looked out across the trees below, and Anne followed her gaze. Some birds flitted across their field of vision, chasing each other and chattering as they glided about. She wondered what Mykel and Bylo were doing, what they might think of Anne's words, and if it would change their view of Nara. Would they see her as broken, or did they already?

  "I don't have a single gift," Nara said.

  "No, you don't," Anne said. "You leak so much that your magic can take almost any form you wish."

  "Does that make me dangerous?"

  "You may be whatever you choose. Yes, you could be dangerous if you wanted."

  "I don't want to. I don't want to hurt anyone. Ever."

  "I know."

  "Anne?"

  "Yes, Nara?"

  "What is your gift?"

  "I'm very old."

  "How is that a gift?"

  "To be honest, I'm not sure," Anne said. "I've thought of it more like a curse."

  "It's not just that you're old."

  "No, I can see things."

  "You don't use a cepp, though?"

  "Look closer."

  Nara looked, then noticed something glowing in Anne's hair. The hairpin. Nara reached for it tentatively, asking permission without using words.

  "Go ahead," Anne said.

  Nara removed the hairpin and held it gently.

  "So faint, I barely noticed," she said.

  "I don't need much at all. I don't need a harvester."

  "How did you make it?"

  Anne pointed at the pin, which was made of three small sharpened bones tied with twine. "See the middle bone?"

  Nara nodded.

  "A leg bone from a rabbit. I take the
bone after a fresh kill, sharpen it, and put it in the middle. It lasts quite a while, and I don't need much for my talents."

  "Wow."

  "Seeing doesn't take much, and neither does long life. Once you learn to use your own talents well, you'll also be more efficient." She reached for the pin to replace it, but Nara stopped her.

  "Let me," Nara said.

  Reaching up, Nara combed Anne's silver hair with her fingers, preparing to replace the hairpin. She wondered how long it had been since Anne had felt the touch of another human being. She imagined that living here in this cabin had to be quite lonely, and Nara took an extra moment getting Anne's hair just right.

  "Exactly how old are you?" Nara said as she finished. She placed the pin neatly and patted Anne's shoulder, then sat back on her stool.

  "Very old."

  "Gifted with long life, you must be an ancient, then?"

  "Yes."

  "Wow. I've only heard of them in stories. Old and with a special sort of vision," Nara said. She looked out at some tree branches that rustled as a squirrel jumped between them. "If you are an ancient and you have vision, you must be a blessed. Reminds me of the Oracle of Ankar."

  Silence.

  Nara turned back to her.

  "Are you the Oracle of Ankar?"

  Anne delayed before answering. "Not anymore. I'm just a groundskeeper now."

  Anne's admission shocked Nara, silencing her for a moment. How had she survived her famous execution those hundreds of years ago? A longer silence came between them, then stretched and hung about the two as they looked out at the trees.

  "The resurrection of Breshi," Nara finally said. "Here in Eastway. At the abbey."

  "Yes. I helped a bit."

  "Do they know?"

  "The clerics at Eastway? No."

  "Wow, Anne. They just think you're the one who trims the hedges."

  "I do trim the hedges, and I'm darn good at it!"