by Cat Bruno
“I guess I should start by reminding you that I am a healer. A Northern healer.” Kennet nodded his agreement, and Bronwen readjusted her legs as she tried to get comfortable sitting on the stone floor. Once settled, with her back against the wall and her legs stretched out before her, she told him what had happened, leaving out no details this time. She even confessed how she had tried to provoke Conri into transforming, without success, although she would never realize how close she had come. She stumbled through the next part, almost too embarrassed to admit what she had said to him when it finally became clear to her what was happening. Even though Bronwen was indeed a woman by Cordisian standards, her experience in that department was slight. Kennet felt like he had been out drinking in the pubs all night. His head was spinning and his vision was blurry. He couldn’t think very clearly either after Bronwen finished talking. How naïve he had been to assume that nothing she could say would shock him tonight. He shook his head and rubbed his temples to try to revive himself. When nothing worked, he gave up and just gazed at Bronwen.
“Kenny, please say something! You are scaring me,” Bronwen yelled across the room. “You promised to help me, remember?”
“Bronwen,” Kennet sputtered in a shaky voice, “I don’t know what to tell you. None of this makes any sense to me. To be honest, nothing is making much sense to me right now. Give me a minute.”
“Do you realize that you attacked a High Lord of the Tribe? You attacked him, Bronwen. You caused him to bleed. With no weapon. That does not happen. You are no trained warrior, yet you were able to hurt Conri. This makes little sense. And you walked away unharmed, or nearly so. He could have killed you. I don’t know how or why he did not.”
Bronwen quickly stood up and raced across the room, not bothering to notice how dirty her light robes had become from the stone floor.
“I need your help, Kenny. I need you to tell me all that you know about the Tribe.”
5
Over the next few hours Bronwen and Kennet talked endlessly. They never left the room, and made themselves at home amid the manuscripts and the dust. Bronwen asked the questions, while Kennet attempted to answer them. Despite reading every book and scroll that came his way, there was still a great deal about the Tribe that he did not know. But what he did know was more than enough.
Kennet’s thoughts, though, were very clear, and he was concerned to the point of feeling sick. He had no idea what time it was, although he could assume that it was nearly sun up. The two friends had entered the crypt after sundown and had spent the time reading, while most others across Litusia had been sleeping.
Hungry and tired, Kennet wanted to escape back to his office for a quick nap before the morning meal, yet he still had many questions for Bronwen. He never doubted anything she had told him. From the way that she had described Conri, Kennet knew she was telling the truth. But what confirmed everything she said were the bruises that had already darkened her skin from shoulder to wrist. When she had pushed back the sleeves of her robe to show Kennet her arms, he had gasped.
The black and purple markings that covered her arms were almost unnatural in appearance. Bronwen swore that Conri had not caused her significant pain, despite the evidence to the contrary. Of course, the touch of a Tribesman was not the same as the touch from an ordinary human. The strength of a Tribesman far surpassed that of even the strongest warrior. Only the mages could attempt to battle the Tribe with any hope for a victory. When Conri had grabbed Bronwen’s arm, it might not have felt any differently than Kennet himself grabbing her arm. But the damage that Conri could cause far surpassed any damage that Kennet could cause. And not just physically, he knew.
*****
“Bronwen, I am starving. The morning meal will be served soon, why don’t we walk across campus and clear our heads?” Kenny asked in a voice raspy and dry.
“Okay. But promise me that you will not discuss this with anyone but me? I still don’t know what exactly is going on yet,” Bronwen replied.
After Kennet agreed, the two ascended the winding stairs until they reached the back lobby of the library. From there, they exited the library, watching the sun rise for the morning and spread a soft glow over the campus buildings. They hurried over the fine gray pebbles that marked the path until they were outside the eating hall. From the sounds within of hushed conversation and spoons scraping dishes, it was clear that the meal had already started. A sudden thought struck Bronwen and she called out.
“Sheva! Oh, Kenny, I have completely forgotten about her. I was on my way to talk to her last night, to tell her about my apprenticeship when he found me. And then I ran into you. Oh, this could be bad, Kenny. What should I tell her when I see her?”
Tired, he answered, “I guess the truth is out of the question, right?”
Bronwen hoped Kennet was joking, but before she could answer, the doors opened. Master Rova stood before them.
6
Bronwen felt the bruises on her arms burning and glanced down, afraid that the markings would be blazing underneath her robe, a robe that was covered in dirt and sand.
“Good morning. You two are certainly starting your day early. Although, from the looks of it, perhaps you are ending your day rather late instead.”
Bronwen blushed deeply and dropped her head in embarrassment. She tried to take a moment to figure out what to say, but heard Kennet responding to Master Rova.
“A pleasant morning to you, sir. I apologize for our appearances. As you correctly guessed, Bronwen and I indeed were out all night. Celebrating her new position as your apprentice I must admit. I take all the blame, sir. I dragged her out to a few pubs, and we had a few ales.”
Bronwen watched as Kennet walked into the dining hall as if nothing had happened, and shook her head at how strange her world had become. Master Rova continued staring at Bronwen, and she could feel his gentle eyes upon her.
Eventually, Bronwen said, “Master Rova, good morning to you, sir. If you will excuse me, I would like to eat quickly and get back to my room before my morning classes. Shall I stop by your office this afternoon?”
Master Rova took his time before answering. The wait paralyzed Bronwen with worry, and she could do little but wonder if he knew about Conri.
“Bronwen, dear, you look a right mess, if you don’t mind me saying so. Why don’t you take the morning off? We can catch up tomorrow, and I am certain your other instructors will understand as well. Go find your friend.”
Before she could flee into the dining hall, Master Rova added, “Oh, Bronwen, by the way, your foster mother was looking for you. You might not want to tell her where you were last night, dear.”
*****
“Kenny, would you like to explain to me what the hells that was about? Master Rova thinks we are a couple.”
After her conversation with Master Rova ended, Bronwen had headed straight toward Kennet, not stopping until she was beside him. She had grabbed his arm before whispering in his ear, trying hard not to raise her voice. Kennet only laughed, which infuriated Bronwen even more. Had Master Rova been watching, he might have assumed that the two were having a lovers’ quarrel.
Kennet ceased his laughter when he noticed the anger spreading across Bronwen’s face.
He quickly recovered, answering Bronwen in a sterner voice than she was used to from him, “What I was doing was protecting you. Or should I have told Rova where you really were last night? You are welcome, by the way.”
Bronwen let go of Kennet’s arm before walking away to grab a small loaf of bread, a chunk of cheese, and a glass of milk, keeping her head down as she moved about the large room. She looked around the room for Sheva and was relieved when she did not spot the dark-haired woman. Sighing, she returned to where Kennet was sitting.
Reluctantly, Bronwen apologized, “I’m sorry. You were right. I mean, you are right. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
As she talked, Bronwen glanced up, and noticed Sheva crossing the room, smiling.
“Here comes Sheva. Follow my lead.”
Bronwen reached across the table and grabbed his hand, holding his dark, ink-stained fingers with her own ivory ones.
She whispered, “Kiss me as soon as you see Sheva.”
Kennet, having regained his clear head now that his belly was full, whispered back, “Are you sure?”
Before Bronwen had time to answer, they both noticed Sheva, now only steps away from their table. Bronwen glanced at Kennet with dismay written on her skin. With more pity than longing, he closed his eyes and placed his lips on hers. He held them there, gently pressing his mouth onto hers, surprised at the softness he found. She tasted like warm milk, and he was reluctant to stop, liking the kiss more than he had imagined.
He opened his eyes for a moment and leaned back quickly, away from Bronwen. He could feel his cheeks reddening as Sheva stared. He muttered good morning before putting his head down and focused on trying to slow his life pulse.
Bronwen recovered faster, even as stunned as she was that Kennet had gone through with it. She jumped up and hugged her foster mother, greeting her with a warm, welcoming smile.
“Good morning, Sheva! Have you heard the news? Have you talked to Master Rova? Can you believe that I am to be his apprentice?”
Sheva, dressed in a dirty apron and with her dark, coarse hair pulled back, resembled the few other cooks who were often to be found in the serving hall. Her soft, brown eyes looked at Bronwen with confusion.
“Whatever are you talking about, Bronwen? You know how busy I am, especially during the morning shift. When would I have a moment to talk to the master?”
Sheva was more than a little curious about what she had just witnessed, but she refrained from asking. She had known Bronwen thought of Kennet as a dear friend, and, even when Sheva pushed for more information, Bronwen never hinted of anything more. Bronwen smiled at her foster mother, and, for the moment, the older of the two relaxed. The two women, so different in appearance, one light, one dark, one just entering womanhood, one soon to exit, stood together in the crowded hall. Sheva had raised her with love and light, and Bronwen had breathed fresh life into Sheva after her husband had died. To her, Bronwen was a gift, a lighted path out of the darkness. But, despite all of her attempts to shelter and protect her new daughter, Sheva often worried that she had not done enough. There was a part of Bronwen that she kept hidden, veiled to all those who loved her. Sheva sensed such a moment as she stepped back from Bronwen.
But the sparkling smile on her foster daughter’s face was dazzling, and Sheva smiled in return.
“Oh, Sheva, finally my hard work has been rewarded! I have been named Master Apprentice! I never thought this day would come, to be honest. But, at last, it has, and I am happier than I have ever been!”
Sheva hugged her daughter and exclaimed, “Bronwen, dearest, I am so very pleased for you! I know how dedicated you are to the Healing Arts and to your studies. I am equally pleased that Master Rova recognized what I have known for years! I am so proud! As must you be, and Kennet also.”
Hearing his name mentioned caused Kennet to pause, placing his fork down and looking across to where the two women stood. He watched as Bronwen laughed, a sweet sound that seemed like the only noise in the packed room. How different from a few hours ago, he thought.
“Of course I am overjoyed, and I imagine Kenny is also. I don’t know what I would do without him. He has helped me more than I ever imagined possible.”
Sheva glanced toward Kennet, interested by what Bronwen had said. Perhaps they were more than friends now, Sheva thought, although Sheva wondered why Bronwen had never suggested as much.
“Bronwen, now that you are Master Apprentice, you might want to change out of that filthy robe,” Sheva added, before asking Bronwen to visit the cottage later in the day.
With one final look at the two young students, Sheva hurried back to the kitchen. Once she was out of sight, Bronwen sat down, closed her eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath.
“”Do you think she believed me, Kenny?”
Kennet shook his head. “I’m not sure.”
“Well, you weren’t exactly lying about your new position. But if you are referring to us, well, I don’t know what Sheva made of that. Hells, I don’t know what I make of that.”
“Let’s get out of here. I’m exhausted.”
Kennet could not argue with that. So they left the dining hall, neither of them certain where they were going.
7
Domhaacron, Eirrannia
“Is it done?”
“No, Father, it is not.”
“When will it be completed?”
“There has been a complication.”
“Take care of it, Conri.”
8
After arriving back at the library, Bronwen parted ways with Kennet and headed back to her room. She had a great deal on her mind and needed some solitude to reflect on what had occurred since yesterday’s sunrise. As Bronwen walked along the pale stone path, she unknowingly shook her head back and forth, trying to clear her thoughts.
Bronwen made her way through the cluster of small rooms that housed most of the students until she was outside her own door. She entered her room by placing a hand on the center panel of the heavy, dark door. One of the few mage-works that the Healer’s Academy used was door binding, yet Bronwen paid little attention to the small amount of magic and pushed the door shut behind her, so accustomed was she to it by now.
The windows in her room were small, but provided plenty of light for both study and practice. The morning sun showed a cluttered desk, a few chairs that had survived many healers before her, and a small bed. Bronwen was often too busy to spend long hours in her room, so the sparseness never bothered her much. Sheva, though, was often shocked at her foster daughter’s surroundings. When Bronwen had first joined the Academy, she had lived at Sheva’s house, the only home that she could remember. After entering her sixteenth year, Bronwen gained Sheva’s reluctant support to move into her own rooms on the grounds of the Healer’s Academy, although her foster mother visited often.
She crossed the room in a few steps and lay down on top of the cool, cotton sheets. Before she fell asleep, she suddenly remembered another moment when she had felt this exhausted. But instead of being in her own bed in her own room, she had been snuggled next to Conri as he sat by a small fire in a quiet, dark glen. For a moment, though, she felt at peace, her thoughts quieted.
*****
When she woke, the light spread throughout the room, mixing with the glass bottles that littered her shelves. Miniature prisms appeared, dancing all over. Bronwen smiled at the pretty scene as she wondered how long she had been asleep. Very rarely did she miss any lectures, but she decided to take Master Rova’s advice and spend the rest of the day in her room. She already felt more rested, stretching her body awake on the cramped cot. She lay still, trying to recall her last thought before she had fallen asleep. Where were we, and why was I so unafraid?
Bronwen shuffled through her new memories, having been mind-locked for as long as she had been caused some fogginess. She tried to piece together the story that Conri had told her. According to him, he had first encountered her in Planusterra. Even now, she still could not recollect that first meeting. True, she realized, her memories were still partially clouded, but her early amnesia was more likely caused by her injuries, and no mind-lock reversal could recover those. The image she had of Conri and her young self beside a fire, lying on soft grass, covered by a thick, maroon-colored wool blanket, seemed to be her very first memory of that time. Bronwen was not sure when it had happened, but it was clearly before she had even entered Tretoria, as she had not been outside the country’s borders since her arrival as a child. Her memories were returning, yet not in their entirety, which added confusion.
*****
When Bronwen stepped outside, she noticed how high and bright the sun was shining overhead. Sheva would be serving the midday meal, and Kennet was most
likely still sleeping. She had slept through her lectures and had little to do for the rest of the day. She wasn’t hungry, and even though she was desperate to ask Kennet a few more questions, she decided against bothering him at the moment. Bronwen briefly considered helping out at the healing clinic, as she did often, but her head was still too muddled to be of any real use. So she walked without purpose around the light-colored buildings, watching the sun dazzle off the old, sun-bleached stone. The salt and sun combined to rob the once-tawny sandstone of its original color, but the result was a brilliant scene of white stone, blue sky, and a glowing sun. Bronwen had never felt so surrounded by light, so immersed in the glory of it, and she paused for a moment to let the burning sun cast her in its shadow.
Yet, she felt a haze clinging to her skin and a cloudiness over her thoughts. Ever since Conri had released her from the mind-lock, Bronwen had not felt the same. And with her happiness clung worry, especially since she knew so little of the Tribe.
She turned and walked in the direction of the library. Just one more question, she promised, not knowing to whom she was making such promises.
*****
Kennet was not awake, but that didn’t stop Bronwen from trying to find her answers. Determined and with her mind set on seeking what they had not finished the night before, she retraced their steps, and, soon, she was standing outside the doors of the underground room. She tried several times to find the right pattern to open the doors, but struggled to find the exact order of what Kennet had done.
