by Nina Pierce
Hope soared as the woman entered one of the other bedrooms. Sprinting down the hall, Camille was grateful for the carpet that concealed her heavy footfalls. She slipped into her room just as Kylie stepped into the hall.
She slid between the sheets, hoping not to wake her roommate.
Over the sound of her hammering heart, she heard the soft click of the door latch.
“Ladies, are you awake? Gabriella requests the honor of your company in her wing tonight. Ladies?”
The cloying sweetness of Kylie’s perfume nearly choked Camille when the blond woman leaned in close to her face. “Honey, wake up.” She shook Camille. Moaning, Camille feigned sleep she knew would never come. The ruse worked.
Kylie walked around the bed. “Honey, wake up.”
“What? Is everything all right? What’s happening?”
Relief flooded through Camille as the girl sat up.
“Nothing’s wrong. Gabriella would like you to join her tonight. Would you like that?” Her voice lilted in an overly cheery tone.
“It would be an honor to be with her tonight. After I disgraced myself at dinner … are you sure she asked for me?”
“She would like that very much.”
The bed shifted and the girl left with Kylie. Camille didn’t exhale until she heard their muted voices fade away.
Chapter Twelve
Jahara lounged in the courtyard behind the hospital, enjoying the sun. A few days had passed since the revelations at the lake and still she couldn’t wrap her head around all that she’d discovered. There was so much work ahead before any changes could be made here at the Garden, let alone extending equality out to the world beyond these walls. At the moment, Brenimyn’s vision just seemed impossible and what it asked of her—overwhelming.
“Jahara, I’m glad I found you.” Gabriella Bresilee bustled up to her. Even as the woman settled next to her on the bench, the director exuded a constant energy. It radiated off the woman in waves, charging the air around them and putting Jahara on edge.
“My apologies for wasting your talents on the breeders these last few weeks. The clinic well-checks are an unfortunate burden everyone must shoulder.”
Except for the Garden’s director, she wanted to say, but kept the snide remark to herself.
“But I’m pleased to tell you, you won’t have to return there.” Gabriella looked out over the Garden, her hands fluttering about, fixing her hair or picking unseen fibers off her yellow tunic. “We’ve had to cancel the well-checks for the afternoon. My healer in the emergency clinic just birthed a healthy baby girl. A few weeks earlier than anticipated, but thank the Creator, both mother and child are doing fine.”
Gabriella turned her face up to the warmth of the sun, filling her lungs with the lilac-scented air. Jahara doubted the woman even noticed their serene surroundings.
“That leaves an apprentice healer alone in the clinic. And though Mikalyn is certainly a gifted healer …” The director didn’t bother to look at Jahara as she spoke. “She still requires guidance. I know you mentioned teaching when you arrived. I’m sure you’d enjoy joining her there this afternoon.” Gabriella stood, not waiting for a response. “And you don’t need to thank me. I know how difficult it is to work with the males.”
Jahara stared at Gabriella’s retreating back, too stunned to even respond. The woman was a piece of work. She treated her staff like pawns in a chess match, each person moved about with no thought to anything but the director’s selfish needs. And though Gabriella’s words made it sound like a reprieve, Jahara sensed the proclamation was actually a punishment. She could only imagine what had prompted Gabriella to remove her from the well-checks she’d come to enjoy. The male breeders had finally relaxed and her days there were pleasant and entertaining. But trying to explain that to Gabriella was like talking to the stone bench she sat on—cold and unyielding.
Her appetite lost, she dumped the last of her tea and salad in the waste receptacle and made her way through the medical facility to the emergency clinic. If it was anything like her first day here, the afternoon would pass in a dizzying blur of healing. Jahara sensed the organized chaos moments before the apprentice healer ran into her at the reception desk.
“Dr. Khateri. I’m so glad you’re here. We met your first day here, I’m Mikalyn Sabella. Dr. Bresilee just let me know you were on your way.” The dark-haired woman looked frazzled, her brow knit with deep lines of tension. “There are so many who need me today. I can’t do this by myself.” She threw her hands wildly in the air. “Oh, why did Dr. Vinari have to have her baby today? I’m an apprentice. I can’t possibly be expected—”
“Slow down and breathe, Mikalyn.” Jahara understood the overwhelming sense of responsibility that came with healing. She squeezed the woman’s shoulder and captured her wild gaze. “Take a moment to center yourself.”
“But—”
“But, nothing. There’s no one dying is there?”
The healer shook her head.
“Then take a moment and center yourself. You can’t help others in this agitated state. Now in through your nose, slowly out through your mouth.” Jahara imitated the movement of air. “Now tell me who’s here.”
“There’s a woman with a painful back in curtain one. Another complaining of a headache in curtain two whose pain is so bad it’s blurring her vision and she’s puking everywhere.” Mikalyn looked down at her scrubs smattered with vomit. “And others still waiting in the chairs who haven’t been triaged. I just couldn’t keep up with it all.” Mikalyn’s chin trembled as the last words warbled out of her mouth.
“You’re doing fine.” Jahara picked up several patient disks as she spoke. “I’m here now and you don’t have to do it all by yourself.” She smiled at Mikalyn, the panicked look on the woman’s face softening. “Why don’t you take a minute to compose yourself and get some clean scrubs? I’ll triage the patients still waiting. You can meet me in curtain two and we’ll heal the headache together.”
Working side by side through the early afternoon, Jahara’s hands covered Mikalyn’s. Functioning as one, they healed the migraine, a broken wrist, a pulled muscle and other minor maladies. Impressed by Mikalyn’s healing powers, Jahara knew she would be a great healer someday. The woman had had some poor training somewhere along the way, but the bad habits weren’t so ingrained they couldn’t be fixed.
When they’d cleared most of the patients, they took a moment together to recharge and share a cup of tea.
“Jahara, you’re a gifted healer and a kind teacher. I’ve enjoyed working with you today.” Mikalyn sat on the stretcher, her leg swinging back and forth. “Dr. Vinari would’ve pushed me out of her way and worked on the wounds herself. But even when I did something wrong, you never got angry.”
Sipping from the cup, Jahara let the tea settle with Mikalyn’s compliment. “You’re gifted, Mikalyn. Never doubt what you’ve been given. It takes years to hone your skill. You’re eager to learn, it makes it fun to teach you. When you—”
Screams of help erupted from the waiting area, cutting her off.
Mikalyn was first to her feet, Jahara close on her heals. She collided into the woman’s back when Mikalyn froze in her tracks. Unlike the apprentice, the grisly scene unfolding before Jahara propelled her into action. She pushed past Mikalyn, running to the woman half carrying, half dragging a bloody and mangled body. She didn’t know it was a man until she got close enough to see the tattered breeches, exposing his genitals. Like the clothing, the skin and muscle on the left half of his body was shredded as if it had been chewed by some savage animal. His arm hung unnaturally at his side.
“You can’t bring him in here, this is for females only.” The female caretaker had come around the reception desk, obstructing the couple’s entry.
“Don’t be foolish, woman.” Jahara shouldered the caretaker out of the way. “This man will surely die if we don’t help him now.”
“Save him. Please don’t let him die.” The plaintive wail f
rom the woman ripped into Jahara’s heart. It took a moment for Jahara to realize she knew this woman from her day at the barn. Nazaret’s tear-filled eyes pleaded for her to help.
“He has to go to the male well-check.”
“He’s not allowed—”
Jahara ignored the commands of the staff, bending down to cradle the man’s left side. “Someone get me a gurney.” No one moved to help. “In the name of the Creator, are you kidding me? Nazaret, you get his good side and help me bring him over there.” The stunned staff and patients parted, making way for the two women painted with the man’s blood. Together, she and Nazaret managed to wrestle the man onto one of the stretchers in the treatment area.
“Mikalyn grab some blankets, he’s in shock.”
When there was no response, Jahara looked back over her shoulder. The woman was nowhere to be found. Jahara wondered if the healer had abandoned her for hospital policies.
“Fine, if you people can’t help, just don’t get in my way.” She pushed the gurney toward one of the cubicles. “Would someone grab some blankets? And something to cut these clothes off him. And for goodness’ sake, find me another healer. And blood. I need at least three units of blood and saline.” She closed the curtain, shutting the three of them off from the judgment of the staff.
“What happened to him?” Jahara asked as her palms moved over the man. He was near death, his life slowly slipping through her fingers. There was too much damage to heal all the wounds, without another healer, she wasn’t sure she could stop his slow spiral to the other realm.
“I’ve brought scissors.” A caretaker stepped into the space, her smile trembling.
“Thank you,” Jahara said. “Gently cut away his clothing so I can figure out what to heal.”
Jahara turned to the shocked woman, her voice gentle. “What caused this, Nazaret?” Jahara spoke quietly, trying to get Nazaret to focus on her rather than the man lying in tatters on her stretcher.
Nazaret could only shake her head side to side. She looked as pale as the evening moon. The woman made no sound save for the small whimpers escaping between the trembling fingers covering her lips.
Jahara’s hands wound their way into the man’s inner arm where the most blood seemed to be pooling. The caretaker was cutting away the ragged breeches still clinging to the bloody mess. “Nazaret. Look at me.”
Nazaret’s glazed eyes pulled from the carnage to stare through Jahara. “I don’t know what happened. I wasn’t there.” She raked bloody fingers through the dark waves of her hair. “He was at the barns with me. He shouldn’t have been anywhere near the equipment.” The tears finally came. Large drops ran down her cheeks, making roads through the dirt and blood splatters covering her face. The emotion overrode her attempt to speak.
Another one of the caretakers finally arrived. “I can’t heal, but I’ve brought blankets and can offer another set of hands.”
“Thank you.” Jahara was beginning to understand what kind of a sacrifice these women were making. No doubt the wrath of Bresilee would crash down upon all of them. “Wash away the blood as gently as possible,” Jahara instructed. “I need to see where he’s wounded. Any chance there was another healer out there?”
“None that I saw. I’m sorry,” the caretaker shook her head.
Jahara’s stomach lurched at the thought of being abandoned. A man was going to lose his life because no healer dared defy the antiquated laws. “On the Creator’s name, won’t anyone step up to help me?” Frustration and anger sent the words hurtling.
“I’m here.” The apprentice’s voice was low in her ear. “I’ve brought blood and saline.”
The relief at seeing Mikalyn, nearly buckled her knees. “Get both hooked up and then assess his wounds. Start at his hip and work down. They’re just like females. You’ll know what you have to heal.”
She looked up at Nazaret, standing at her mate’s side. “Nazaret, focus on me. I need more details about the accident.” In continuous motion, Jahara’s hands pulsed hot with the white light. “Crockadung, his arm’s nearly severed. I’d hoped it wasn’t this bad.”
“He was, ah …” Staring blankly from one face to another, Nazaret’s fear of reprisal was obvious.
“Nazaret, everyone here is going to help save him. There will be no punishment. Focus. Tell me what happened.” Jahara sent a scathing look at the women surrounding them, daring them to contradict her, but each went about their tasks, not looking at Nazaret.
“He was working on the equipment. He shouldn’t have been. But you know Lukiam visits me at the farm and helps with the animals and the farm equipment. He’s good with the machines.” A small sob escaped and she inhaled, trying to keep herself together. “One of them was broken and the machinist never came. I told him not to, but he’s done it before … I should’ve been there.” Her voice broke again. “I … I was in the barn when I heard the scream. When I got to him, he was in the … you know …” Her hand waved limply in the air, words failing her, “The part of the tractor for wheat or something. I shut it off, but he was so …” She pointed to his body. “I didn’t know what to do. I put Lukiam in the vehicle and brought him here. Brenimyn told me you worked here, Jahara. I didn’t know who else would help.” Fear filled the eyes searching Jahara’s face, looking for answers. “Did I do right? He shouldn’t be here. Is it too late to save him?” Nazaret collapsed into her sobs.
The shell of a woman standing over her breeding partner didn’t seem like the vivacious young woman who had snuck Brenimyn the horse the day they’d gone to the lake. Jahara had learned later, breeders weren’t supposed to put themselves in situations where they could get hurt. Nazaret let Brenimyn ride anyway. Obviously, it hadn’t been the first time.
This mangled body was the man she’d never met, Nazaret’s mate, Lukiam. No wonder the woman could barely keep it together. This man, who had been loving Nazaret in the barn, was now lying at death’s door. He shouldn’t have put himself in danger. But men, Jahara had discovered, were obstinate creatures.
“Nazaret, I need you to talk to Lukiam.”
The woman looked confused. Jahara didn’t know if it was the fact she’d used his name or if her words hadn’t quite penetrated the woman’s fog of grief.
“Nazaret, lean in close to his ear and talk to him. Say anything. Tell him how much you love him. Tell him he will survive, that I’m here helping. Say whatever you can to keep him here with us. We won’t let him leave this realm. We can save him.” The blood pooling on the floor said otherwise, but Jahara would not give up on this man.
“Damn it, I can’t keep up with the bleeding. Someone push the fluids faster.” Jahara’s hands continued to move about the man’s arm. “Mikalyn, don’t worry about broken bones. Close up any bleeders first, then go back and repair muscle and skin. I won’t lose this man.”
“What’s going on here?” A large woman, both in height and width threw back the curtain. The two receptionists followed closely on her heals.
“I told you. A male breeder. Here, in the clinic.” One of the caretakers poked her head around the woman, her voice shaking with her hand.
Wisps of short hair fell into the large woman’s eyes creased with disapproval. She brushed at them before casually putting her hands in the pockets of her white lab coat. “Why on earth is there a male in our clinic? And why are you working on him? Get him out.” The loose skin under her arm flapped as her finger thrust in the direction of the door. “Stop wasting precious blood on this male,” she bellowed at the caretaker working on the other side of the stretcher.
“It was a farm accident, Honorable Dr. Linsig.” Mikalyn’s words warbled out of trembling lips. “This is Jahara … I mean Dr. Khateri.”
“Ah, yes, the healer everyone is gossiping about?”
Jahara didn’t look away from Lukiam’s arm, her hand still buried deep in the muscles near the dying man’s armpit. Impatience slammed into her. “Rather than looking down your nose at a male breeder, why don’t you step up a
nd help us. This man is losing a lot of blood. There’s much healing to do if we’re going to keep him from dying. Stand on the other side and check his organs. Repair anything you can.”
The woman actually gagged. “I am Dr. Linsig, second-in-charge of the hospital and you all are flagrantly disobeying hospital protocol. These women told me a male breeder had come in here and I couldn’t believe it.” She fisted her hands on her hips. “And not only do I find it’s true, but you expect me to help save him?” She laughed. “I will not work on this … this … male.” She tried to muscle past the caretakers. “I said, stop wasting our precious blood supply. It’s not for him.”
The caretaker stood her ground. “Most honorable healer, he will die without it.”
“You defy me? You all dare to defy me?” Linsig’s words cracked with fury. “I’m not sure why you’re wasting your time. He’s nothing more than a breeder. And just look at that arm. It’s obvious it should be removed. But then, what good is a one-armed male?” Her caustic laugh rippled up Jahara’s spine. “Simply shut down the pain receptors and let him bleed to death. It’s the only humane thing to do. He’s barely conscious at this point. He’ll slip painlessly into the next realm without anyone to mourn his passing. There are others who can take his place. He won’t even be missed.”
“This is my patient, Dr. Linsig and I intend to keep all his body parts attached to him. I do not intend to let him bleed to death.” Jahara’s anger clashed with Linsig’s rage, heating the air around them. She didn’t have time for the woman’s overinflated sense of importance. “He’s first and foremost a living person, you callous hag. He deserves my talents like every other human.” She glared over at the woman. “Now, if you refuse to help save this man’s life, then get out my clinic.” Jahara barely registered the look of stunned horror on the healer’s face.
