Beyond the Boundary Stones (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 3)

by Holder, Angela

  “It should be, after so much conversation with native speakers.” Gevan sighed. “Alas, neither Elkan nor Josiah has had time to instruct me since we arrived. I fear I still slip into archaic constructions on occasion.”

  “You do sound rather as if you’re reading from one of the older Histories.” Nirel crossed the bare sitting room to a door that stood open, revealing a large, cluttered room beyond. “I could help you with language while you show me what you and Nalini and Josiah have been up to.”

  Gevan agreed. He eagerly demonstrated his enlarging glass to Nirel. She didn’t have to pretend to be impressed. The tiny animals in pond water were particularly fascinating. She watched them as Gevan described how he had implemented Josiah’s suggestion and added a mirror to direct lantern light through the samples he placed on small squares of clear glass.

  She was just getting good at tweaking the sample smoothly in the opposite direction she wanted the view to move when she heard footsteps. Before she could react, Josiah’s voice said in her ear, “Pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

  She pulled back, blinking to focus on his face after the dazzle of the brightly lit sample. “Um, yeah.” She looked away and swallowed. “Hello.” Her voice sounded odd in her ears. “I guess you must be pretty angry at me.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You could say that.”

  “You’re not going to turn me in to the Matriarch, are you?”

  “Nalini wouldn’t tell me where you were or bring me with her until I promised not to. But I wouldn’t have anyway. You ought to know that.”

  “Yeah.” She rose and walked to a workbench against the far wall where Nalini was lighting a brazier.

  Josiah followed her. “I just don’t understand why you did it. Why tell Vigorre a story to make him think the Purifiers were right about the familiars being demons, when you know very well they’re not?”

  “They might as well be!” Nirel clenched her fists and turned away from him.

  He circled her to catch her eye again. “Vigorre said you’d joined the Dualists—”

  “Faithful!”

  “All right, Faithful. I guess you thought you had to after you found out about your father being one, but—”

  “I didn’t have to. I wanted to.” Nirel knew he’d never understand, but she couldn’t help trying to explain. “Our Faith—it’s beautiful. Ancient and holy and pure. My ancestors for generations have followed the Ordinances. I’m part of them; it’s my heritage. At home people talked about the Mother, but it never meant anything to me. This does. It’s the most important—” She broke off at the uncomprehending look in his eyes. “Never mind. It’s useless trying to explain.”

  Josiah shrugged. “It’s like when Elkan talks about the Mother. I mean, I’ve met her, too, but it’s not personal for me like it is for him. I guess you must feel the same way about your, um, beliefs. Faith. Whatever.”

  That was a lot better than she’d hoped she’d get. “I do. And one of the things the Ordinances require is that I obey any command an Elder gives me. So when Elder Davon told me to lie to Vigorre, I did.”

  Josiah waved exasperated hands in the air. “But why did he want you to?”

  Thank the Lord. Apparently the wizards hadn’t yet discovered the most important part of the plan. Vigorre still had a chance to pull it off. “I don’t know.” She made her voice as prim as she could manage. “You don’t question an Elder.”

  Maybe she wasn’t very convincing, because Josiah gave her a sharp look, but he let it pass. “He’s got to have some reason. I bet if we tracked him enough we could find it.”

  “Please, you can’t do that. Elder Davon is a good man. Kind and caring and generous.” Nirel’s throat grew tight, roughening her voice. “Whatever he’s planning, I know it’s for the good of the Faithful. That’s all he wants. For us to be able to live without being persecuted, for us to be free to follow the Ordinances without being hated and feared and shut up behind walls because we’re heathen—”

  She covered her face. Josiah put an arm around her shoulders; she jerked away. His voice was anxious. “Nirel, what’s wrong?”

  “Father’s dead.” This time when his arm went around her she didn’t resist. “I killed him. He caught measles from me. Ozor threw me out of the village. I’ve been a member of his band all this time, I’ve done everything I could to help and support him, but the minute he found out about my Faith it was as if I’d turned into a monster.”

  Josiah hated Ozor; she expected him to denounce him and tell her how lucky she was to be rid of him. But instead he pulled her closer. She rested her head on his shoulder. His voice rumbled through her. “I’m sorry.”

  His compassion broke the tight hold she’d been keeping on her emotions. She quit trying to prevent her tears from flowing. “Father was all I had, and now he’s gone. And he hated me. Because of what I did with Vigorre. I swore it was only because Elder Davon ordered me to, but he didn’t care. He never forgave me, and now he never can.” She clutched Josiah’s tunic and dropped her voice to a whisper. “I hated him, too. I was happy when he died. I knew he’d never hurt me again.”

  She wanted him to disparage Kabos, to tell her how right she was to rejoice in his death, to express the disgust she knew he felt for him. Then she could leap to his defense, her grief swept away in a blaze of anger. But again Josiah surprised her. “It must be horrible to feel that way. Loving and hating him both, and knowing now you’ll never be able to settle on one or the other.”

  “Smash it, it is. Really, really, horrible.” She scrubbed her eyes against the rough cloth of his tunic. Abruptly she became aware of how close he was holding her, how hard she was pressing into the solid warmth of his body. She pulled away, shaking her head. “When did you get to be so smart?”

  He let her go, shrugging. His voice was light, though his expression remained serious. “I guess Elkan’s lessons are finally sinking in.”

  “About time.” She made a big show of pulling out a handkerchief to wipe her eyes and blow her nose. By the time she finished she could look at him without her face getting hot. “Enough about me. I came here so Nalini could teach me to make insulin. I figure the Faithful need someone who knows how. She says if I catch on quickly enough she’ll teach me more.”

  “I bet you’ll be good at it. You’ll be able to keep helping people; I know you like that. Although I guess we were wrong about the Mother offering you a familiar.”

  “If she did, I’d refuse.” Nirel suspected the Lady of Mercy knew better than to waste the effort. “I want to learn how to heal the right way. Without—you know.”

  Josiah drew a breath, probably to argue with her characterization of the Lady’s power, but he let it out and turned toward the workbench. “Hey, Nalini, are you ready to start showing Nirel how we do it?”

  “And waiting.” Nalini had pointedly concentrated on her materials and equipment during Nirel’s emotional outburst. Now she beckoned them over. Nirel suppressed her embarrassment and moved to her side. Best to pretend nothing had happened.

  Nalini pointed to a large glass jar. “First I chop up a cow pancreas and soak it in alcohol to dissolve its various components. It takes about a day. I plan to acquire a meat grinder from a butcher and see if breaking the pancreas down into smaller pieces will speed up the process. Once it gets to this pale, mushy consistency I strain the liquid into a large pot—”

  She matched her actions to her words, continuing to explain what she was doing as she moved through the steps. Nirel watched closely, absorbing the flow of information about all the different factors that affected how substances either dissolved or came out of solution. There was a lot of detail, but it wasn’t hard to understand. Certainly easier than the complex interplay between various Ordinances she’d learned for her trials.

  After Nalini finished one batch she let Nirel process the next, keeping a close eye on her all the time and swiftly correcting errors. Josiah followed along using another set of equipment. Nirel was pleased to n
ote that he had to stop and ask questions more often than she did.

  By the time Nirel carefully fitted a wax stopper into the mouth of the last bottle of insulin, Nalini was regarding her with cautious approval. “Not bad,” she allowed. “I suppose it won’t be too onerous to give you a lesson every now and then. You might even become skilled enough in time for me to teach you how to make sweet vitriol—though that’s a far more exacting process than this.”

  Nirel was familiar enough with Nalini’s arrogance to understand just how high that praise was. She inclined her head respectfully. “I’m eager to learn whatever you choose to teach me.”

  Nalini snorted, then wrinkled her nose. “I’m moving my equipment down to the Mother’s Hall tomorrow. I’ll have much more space there; we can get a really efficient production line set up—big containers, not these little things. I don’t suppose you can sneak in without getting caught.”

  Nirel’s heart fell. “No.” She’d momentarily forgotten that she was once again a fugitive. “It’s not safe for me to leave the Quarter at all if I don’t have to.”

  Nalini nodded sharply. “All right. If your Elder Davon can arrange a space for me somewhere in the Quarter, I’ll come a couple of times a week to do any surgery that’s needed. You can assist me.”

  “I’m sure he can.” Nirel’s mind raced. How long would it be before the Faithful departed for Tevenar? Several months at least, even if everything went perfectly as Elder Davon planned. Long enough for her to learn quite a bit, if she worked hard. That would satisfy her need to be useful to the Faithful. “I’ll ask him as soon as I get back.”

  Josiah yawned as he stoppered his final bottle. “It’s getting late. I’d better head back to the palace.”

  Nalini swatted him on the shoulder. “Not until you’ve cleaned up after yourself.”

  He gave a hugely exaggerated wince and pretended to cower away from her. “Yes, ma’am.” He started dumping the various waste substances into a bucket under the workbench.

  Nirel copied him. “What are all these other things?”

  He made a baffled gesture. “Who knows? We’re pretty sure at least some of them are part of the digestive juices the pancreas makes along with the insulin. The rest are probably just components of the organ itself.” He peered into the pot he was dumping, poking the damp grains with a finger. “I wonder what the enlarging glass would show?”

  Nalini pointed at him. “You can look after you finish cleaning.”

  Josiah grimaced and went back to work, but he carefully set aside a sample of each of the waste products.

  When everything was finished to Nalini’s satisfaction he carried them to where Gevan was peering into the enlarging glass. Nirel followed him, curious about what he might find. Josiah tapped Gevan’s shoulder. “Can I look at these?”

  Gevan looked up. “Prepare the samples first. A very small amount on one of those.” He waved toward a box full of thin pieces of glass. “The thinner you can get it, the better. Otherwise any structures clump up so much you can’t make them out.”

  Josiah pulled up a stool and went to work. Nirel dragged another over, settled beside him, and started working on another of the substances.

  Josiah waved at the expanding glass. “I like the way you modified it, with the mirror. Much more practical than cutting a hole in the table.”

  “I thought so.” Gevan fiddled with the focusing dial and frowned.

  “What are you looking at?”

  Gevan sighed. “I got a sample of bread dough from a baker, but I’m not able to spread it thin enough for light to penetrate. I’m almost certain that yeast is yet another variety of minuscule creature. The way it grows and produces bubbles clearly suggests some sort of life process.”

  Josiah’s brow creased. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a reason to feel yeast with the Mother’s power. But I bet you’re right. If Sar was here—” He glanced at Nirel and shrugged.

  Gevan looked around, his frown deepening, as if he’d just realized the donkey wasn’t lurking in some corner. “You didn’t bring him?”

  “He doesn’t like keeping secrets. Even though I’m not breaking any Law by talking to Nirel, he’d be grumpy if I didn’t tell Master Elkan about it. Besides, he was glad to stay at the palace and sleep. He gets bored standing around in here with so little to do.”

  To Nirel it sounded like he wasn’t entirely convinced by his own excuses, but she was glad not to have the Lady’s creature watching her. She nodded to the glass. “Maybe dissolve the dough in water? Or get a sample of the starter instead.”

  Gevan snorted. “Try persuading a baker to give up a sample of their starter. The one I asked was convinced I was a spy for his rival trying to steal his secret recipe.”

  Josiah laughed. “Maybe try a brewer next time? They use yeast, too, don’t they?”

  “That’s a thought.” Gevan removed his sample from under the glass and pushed the device toward Josiah. “Maybe you’ll have better luck.”

  Josiah slid the first piece of glass into its spot and peered through the tube. After a moment of adjusting the focus he made a surprised sound. “Look at that. A bunch of little cubes.”

  He showed it to Gevan, then Nirel. Sure enough, a rubble of translucent cubes shone in the reflected lamplight. “Like salt,” she commented.

  “Very much like,” Gevan mused. “Hmm.”

  “Maybe it is,” Josiah said. He swiped a finger across the glass, picking up a bit of the powder from the edge of the sample, and stuck it in his mouth. “Tastes like it.”

  “Josiah!” Gevan scolded. “You have no idea what that is. It could be poisonous.”

  “But it came from the pancreas, right?” Josiah asked in a reasonable tone. “How could it be dangerous to taste when we’ve eaten the whole thing? Raw, even.” He made a face at Nirel. “Nasty. Although it wasn’t bad cooked with the strong Girodan spices.”

  “The distillation process might have changed it into something harmful.”

  “I don’t think so. I think it’s just salt. Do you have some in your kitchen? We can compare what it looks like.”

  Gevan grumbled, but he went off to get the salt. Meanwhile Josiah and Nirel looked at each of the other samples. Most of them featured similar geometric shapes, some pyramidal, some hexagonal, some long pointed rods.

  Gevan dusted a little salt on a piece of glass and handed it to Josiah. Josiah examined it, then the original sample. “They’re pretty close. I think that’s what it is.”

  Gevan took a turn looking. “You may be right.”

  Josiah nodded, but his eyes wandered. Nirel supposed ordinary salt wasn’t terribly exciting, even if he had managed to identify one of the previously unknown substances. “I know what would be really interesting to look at. Have you tried something dead and rotting yet? Rot is definitely alive. I could feel sparkles in the Matriarch’s baby, and it had only been dead for—” He broke off as both Gevan and Nirel swung around to stare at him.

  “The Matriarch’s baby is dead?” Gevan’s voice was ominous.

  Josiah swallowed. “Um, yeah.” He spread his hands, his voice taking on a defensive note. “It’s not like it’s a secret or anything. I mean, she didn’t say not to tell.”

  Gevan sank back on his stool with a bleak expression. “Another victory for the Purifiers.”

  “No, it was boy. Elkan told the Matriarch so. She wanted him to kill the baby so she could get pregnant again quicker, but that’s against the Law so he had to refuse. She was furious, but there was nothing she could do; no familiar would agree to end a healthy pregnancy. So she had her midwife do it.” He shivered. “Elkan said something about pennyroyal.”

  Nalini, who’d come to listen, nodded dispassionately. “That’s effective.”

  Josiah stared at his hands. “It was alive, just the day before. Moving and everything. And then it was dead.” He lifted his shoulders and shook his head. “Anyway, I felt the sparkles that mean decay is starting, and I wondered what they w
ould look like under the glass. We can’t use the baby, obviously, the midwife took it off to bury or whatever, but I thought we could find a dead animal to try.”

  “I’m sure we can,” Gevan said absently. He stared into space, his brow furrowed. “You’re right, it probably will be interesting.”

  Nirel’s thoughts raced. Surely Elder Davon could use this information somehow. Despite what Josiah had said, she doubted the Matriarch would allow her loss to become public knowledge. How could they exploit her secret?

  Carefully casual, she asked, “She’s going to try to get pregnant again right away?”

  “Yeah. Elkan didn’t want to help her anymore, but she finally talked him into it. He’s not going to tell her the sex of any future babies, and she promised she’d never risk ending one if there was a chance it was a girl.”

  That was it. The conflict between the wizards and the Matriarch she’d been looking for. Nirel saw the whole thing laid out before her, clear and simple and obvious.

  She had to make sure her idea would work. She let herself shudder. “Poor little boy. You said you looked at him afterward? Did the Matriarch? I’d think she’d want to, just to make sure Elkan hadn’t made a mistake.”

  “I don’t know. Not after we got there. You couldn’t tell from the outside yet, anyway. Elkan could sense how he was developing internally with the Mother’s power, but he didn’t show me what to look for. He was very certain, though.”

  Better and better. Now to distract him before he got suspicious. “I guess it’s for the best. She really does need a daughter. The Faithful certainly don’t want the Purifiers to come to power; that would be a disaster for us.”

  “Indeed,” Gevan said. “They’ve vowed to expel your people the way they did in Marvanna.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I suppose this doesn’t make much difference. It will just be a little longer before Ramunna is safe from them.”

  Nirel nodded along with the others. He was wrong, of course. This made all the difference. She couldn’t wait to report to Elder Davon.

  Gevan made them clean up the samples, but with both of them working together it went quickly. Nirel picked up her cloak and hat. “I guess this is good-bye. For good, I mean.”