by Anny Cook
“Who are these people, Jade? Did you know you all have blue skin?”
“I’m blind, Bishop—not deaf. Of course I know we’re blue. It’s part of the adaptation to the valley,” Jade replied calmly. “Why don’t we start back toward the village?”
“What about Traveller?” he demanded stubbornly.
“Traveller will be fine. They will bring him to our house so you’ll see him then.” She tilted her head and queried, “Wrenna? Will you go see if Dancer and Eppie can come later? I know you don’t want to leave Traveller but you should be back by the time they carry him home.”
Wrenna reluctantly agreed, turning down a narrow rough path that led around the village to Stonehollow, accompanied by Harmony. Breathing a sigh of relief when the enormous dog disappeared in the trees and unsure exactly where to go, he stopped, refusing to go any farther. “What the hell is going on, Jade? Where is this place? Why are all of you blue? And what’s with the fangs and pointy ears? I refuse to go any farther until someone explains something to me!” He stared around wildly at his surroundings. “There are things blooming here! It’s December. What is this place?”
Behind him, he heard Merlyn’s low laughter. “Jade, I figured he would be too stubborn to go, unless we explained everything first.” He led his brother and Jade back to the stone bench near the calm pool in the clearing. “Bish, there’s no way to explain everything in a few minutes but I’ll give you the quick, short version because we need to take care of Traveller. First of all, you’ve arrived in Mystic Valley. Our village, Lost Market, is located over in that direction, past that belt of trees.” He pointed toward a towering spire of rock off in the distance as he watched Bish with deep interest. “You’re doing that goldfish thing again.”
“But—”
“I do vividly remember how we felt when we first arrived but trust me, you’re going to have to accept some things until we have time to give you fuller explanations. Now! Where was I?” he asked Jade. “Oh, yes! There is no way out of this valley—that we’ve been able to locate. A very few people, less that three hundred in the last thousand years, have come through that cave we found you in or one of the other pledging circles. Most of those have been in the last fifty years.”
Bish started to say something and then thought better of it. Merlyn nodded. “Wise choice. Hmm. Dancer came through the passage at pledging circle three about a month ago and he is bonded with our daughter, Eppie. Jade and I have fourteen children, so you’re an uncle several times over. There are about fifteen hundred people in the valley, mostly in small family clans.” His eyes took on an unfocused look and he stopped talking.
“What? What’s going on?” Bishop demanded sharply.
Merlyn sighed. “Trouble. I had hoped to delay it for a while but Wrenna inadvertently spilled the beans.”
Jade covered her mouth with one hand and moaned. “Oh, no. I didn’t even think to tell her not to mention Bishop.”
“Well,” Merlyn said grimly, “she did, so now Dancer’s enraged. You go with Bishop and Traveller back to the village. Llyon, you take care of Traveller. Tyger, see to your mama. Dai and I will go see Dancer and Eppie. Perhaps we can salvage the situation.”
Minutes later, Bishop found himself leading Jade along the path in the wake of the jury-rigged stretcher bearing Traveller. “Why is it a problem for Dancer to know I’m here?” he asked curiously.
“You’re not the problem,” Jade explained patiently. “We are. He doesn’t know that we’re Llewellyns. He’s so angry, and rightfully so, with Fremont that he feels hatred toward all of us. He doesn’t trust anyone related to Free.”
* * * * *
The early morning light barely lit the dark rocky path through the woods to Stonehollow where Eppie and Dancer were spending their seclusion. Wrenna wrapped her shawl close around her shoulders and shivered in the cool air as she hurried along the trail with Harmony keeping pace with her.
“What do you suppose Dancer will think?” Wrenna mused. “I bet they aren’t even awake yet.”
They are awake, Harmony replied with dry amusement. But they’re still in bed so you may want to be prepared for a wait.
“I’m not waiting very long,” Wrenna retorted. “Traveller is in a lot of pain. I want to be there where I can help.”
Why not link with him from here? You can certainly do that, you know. You don’t have to be touching him. Harmony’s tart reminder startled Wrenna. If you had bothered to link with him before, you would have known there was a problem much earlier!
Shamed by Harmony’s censure, Wrenna immediately established a mental link with Trav, reassuring him that he was safe. She wasn’t sure how coherent he was but she felt the instant lessening of mental tension. Holding the link firm and continuing to comfort him as best she could, she trusted Harmony to safely lead the way to Stonehollow.
When they reached the tiny stone cottage centered in the small circular clearing in the woods, Wrenna was jarred just for a moment. The little square building looked strange to eyes used to the round adobe domed homes in Lost Market. She always had
exactly the same feeling when she visited Eppie’s log cabin. Mounting the steps to the narrow porch, she knocked on the door with a firm hand.
Moments later, Dancer, dressed in just his sharda, flung open the door with an impatient frown. “What!”
Wrenna flinched, then straightened her spine and tilted her head back so she could look him in the eye. “Traveller is in the valley. He’s badly hurt. My Uncle Bishop brought him through a tunnel into the cave at circle five. Papa and the others are carrying him to our house in the village.”
“Uncle Bishop?” Dancer queried softly.
Wrenna glanced over his shoulder at Eppie who stood behind him wrapped in just a rumpled sheet before staring at him in confusion. Why did he ignore her news about Trav? Who cared about this strange uncle? “Did you hear me, Dancer? Trav is hurt! They are taking him to our house!”
“I heard you,” he replied coldly. “But it occurs to me that I’ve never known your last name. It wouldn’t just happen to be Llewellyn, would it?”
“And? So what?” Wrenna yelled before hurrying back down the steps. “I can’t stay here and talk. Mama thought you might want to come to the village and see Trav. Personally I don’t care one way or the other!”
She heard the door slam before she reached the edge of the woods. With Harmony trailing after her, she trotted down the path to Lost Market, intent on reaching Traveller.
* * * * *
Dai and Merlyn made the mistake of traveling through the village. Anxious villagers waylaid them, seeking reassurance that the visitors weren’t a danger to the valley. The warriors assigned to guard the village had hastily assembled in the center green, setting the emergency plans into motion. Younger warriors-in-training were going from home to home, alerting the occupants.
Merlyn assured the villagers that they were in no danger but by then Bishop and the others reached the village limits and the villagers descended on them with offers of help and assistance. Dai and Merlyn made their escape, hastening down the path toward Stonehollow. They noted Wrenna and Harmony trotting toward home on the other side of the village green past the communal garden but rather than exchange information with her, they decided to go directly to the bonding cottage.
Just outside the village, they encountered Micah Jollye, the blacksmith, lying on the trail with his leg twisted at an unnatural angle. Dai promptly dropped to his knees and began to block the pain while Merlyn summoned Micah’s son, Hoel, and sent him for assistance from the village. By the time help arrived and Micah’s leg was straightened and set, Merlyn’s and Dai’s uneasiness had sharply intensified. With so much time passed, they had expected to encounter Dancer on the trail. When he didn’t appear, their concern for Eppie escalated.
Together, they hurried through the thick woods, oblivious to the chatter of squirrels and birds twittering sleepily. “Have you reached him?” Merlyn demanded worriedly.
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“No. He’s blocked me out,” Dai admitted reluctantly. “I’m surprised that he’s capable of that. He’s stronger than I thought, Merlyn.”
“Maybe, he’s blocking you out because they’re talking,” Merlyn said hopefully.
“Right. Talking.” Dai’s dry agreement told Merlyn exactly what he thought about that possibility. “More likely one of them has killed the other one and they’re contemplating where to bury the body.”
Merlyn stopped dead on the path. “Don’t say something like that!”
“Why?” Dai nudged him to get moving. “They’re both strong-willed, stubborn, hardheaded people. I expect that Eppie is giving as good as she’s getting. You’ll see, we’ll be meeting up with them before we reach Stonehollow.” He smiled suddenly. “Of course, they could be in bed. Since I met you and Jade, I don’t recall another couple that is so shamelessly sexual. All they have to do is look at each other and they end up garzhinka!”
Merlyn’s eyes widened in shock with Dai’s rare use of the crude term. “Dai!”
“What? You know exactly what I’m talking about. You and Jade certainly spend enough time making love. How do you explain all those children you have? Not to mention the new little ones you planted in her belly,” he added slyly. “Don’t you think you’re getting old enough to switch from Papa to Grandpa?”
Ignoring Dai’s teasing, Merlyn stalked ahead of him, head high. He loved all of his children but found it faintly embarrassing that he was going to be a new father again. His cheeks were flushed a pale lavender as he contemplated explaining the sexual mores of the valley to his brother. In his youth, before he and Jade had arrived in the valley, he was the one the others teased for being so prudish. Shaking his head in remembrance, he wondered what they would have thought if they had known his celibacy was because of his early attachment with Jade.
They walked along a wide turn in the path and suddenly faced Dancer and Eppie. Merlyn rushed forward and tried to take Eppie in his arms but she backed up against Dancer. Narrowly studying his bond-father, Dancer embraced Eppie protectively.
“Are you all right?” Merlyn demanded.
“She is now, Baron Merlyn Llewellyn.”
Merlyn winced.
“It would have been better if she had not been in the line of fire when I found out you’d both lied to me.” Dai and Merlyn shifted uncomfortably at Dancer’s cool observation.
“When should I have told you?” Merlyn asked quietly. “You were already hurting. Was I supposed to kick you when you were already down?”
“There was ample time to mention it somewhere along the way,” Dancer replied coldly. “I don’t have time now to discuss it. Trav’s more important but there will be a reckoning—sooner rather than later—once he finds out he’s landed in Llewellyn land.”
“Bishop’s in Lost Market.”
“I know. If you’re asking if I’m going to kill him, then the answer’s no. He’s Trav’s friend. I’m not so sure about you. Can we go now?”
“We can go.” Merlyn turned toward the village, still singed by Eppie’s clear decision to side with Dancer. It was right but it hurt.
Chapter Eight
Sunlight poured over the valley like liquid gold. Bish numbly followed Llyon and the others as they carefully moved Trav to the village. Something very strange was taking place here. There was no way that Dancer would have ignored his injured brother, thought Bish. And the odd disappearance of Baron and Dai bothered him.
When they arrived in Lost Market, he found it to be a surprisingly large charming village, composed of round adobe domed homes painted a variety of pastel colors. Some were simple one-room buildings, while others appeared to be comprised of many linked circular rooms. Neat yards with stone walls enclosing flourishing gardens lined the paths leading through the village. In one yard, bright blue and green birds picked at some kind of feed scattered in the dirt. He decided that they must be a type of domesticated bird, similar to chickens. At the other end of the village, two more of the enormous dogs silently observed the commotion while a woman arranged wet garments on a wooden “tree”.
They headed for one of the largest buildings in the village and carried Trav inside, placing him on a bed in a small treatment room. Wrenna had prepared the bed and room and waited stoically in the corner until they had Traveller in place. Then she moved to his head, gently placed both hands on each side of his face and closed her eyes.
Bishop watched with increasing astonishment as Llyon slipped a flicknife from the sheath below his knee and ran it along the outside seams on Trav’s jeans. The fabric parted smoothly as though unzipped. His eyes widened as Llyon quickly treated the other seams the same way. Evidently, Trav wasn’t the only one who kept his knives sharp.
Then Llyon slowly moved his hands along Trav’s body, muttering to Jonas. With each comment, Jonas wrote something down on a sheet of stiff material. “What are you doing?” Bish asked with growing curiosity.
“I am trying to see exactly how badly he’s hurt. Jonas is filling in his record. Once I know the extent of his injuries, I will make a decision about what to heal first,” Llyon explained patiently.
“But how will you heal him?” Bish demanded. “Shouldn’t you be doing something with IVs and X-rays and stuff like that?”
“I’m sure that where you come from, such things are common,” Llyon replied steadily, “but we have nothing like that here. My father explained some of those things to me but we don’t have them here.” He moved down Trav’s right leg, indicating for Jonas, “a break here, here and here. The ankle is sprained. Let’s see about the other leg…hmm, not too bad. Only one small fracture here just below the knee. He’s not going to be hiking across the valley anytime soon.”
Tyger slipped into the room and stood next to Wrenna. “How bad is it?” he asked softly.
“Could be worse, I suppose.” Llyon rotated his head, trying to loosen the stiff muscles in his neck. “I’ll need to work on the internal injuries which aren’t nearly as bad as I anticipated and stop any bleeding before I worry about the bones. Can you have things ready when I finish?” Please take Bishop with you, he added in mind speech.
“Of course,” Tyger agreed, drawing his uncle from the room with him. “Will you help me get things ready?”
“What is he doing? What do we have to get ready?” Bish’s puzzlement grew as he watched Tyger arrange food and drink on a tray. Carrying it down the hall to their compartment, Tyger set it next to the bed. He watched as his odd nephew located a scented candle and lit it, then sprinkled some herbs among the pillows. “What are you doing? What does this have to do with Trav?”
“Llyon is a healer. Papa told us that you don’t have healers. A healer heals with the mind, using his personal energy. When Llyon finishes doing what he must for Traveller, he will collapse from exhaustion. He will need to eat, drink and sleep at once.”
“What about medicine or painkillers for Trav?” Bish’s frustration threatened to escape his control.
“Jonas and Mali have enough healing talent to take turns blocking his pain until Dai gets back,” Tyger assured him quietly. “He will be fine.”
“Why isn’t Dai or Baron healing him?” Bish’s temper snapped. “Why did they go off like that?”
Tyger gripped him by the shoulders and forced him to sit down on a stool by the hearth. Stooping down so he could look directly in Bish’s eyes, he said with barely controlled anger, “First of all, they went to take care of Eppie and Dancer. Dancer was very angry when he arrived in the valley. We don’t believe that he would harm Eppie but Papa and Dai feel responsible because they withheld information.” He sighed in frustration.
“Secondly, Llyon is the most powerful healer in the valley. If anyone can save your friend, then it will be Llyon!” He stood and stretched slowly. “Every healer has a caretaker, a katuazha—someone who will see to their needs when they must extend their energies while healing. I am Llyon’s katuazha. Now if you have more questions, pleas
e wait for Dai or Papa to return. I need to be ready when Ly finishes, he probably won’t even have enough strength to stand.”
Deep in rapport with Trav, Wrenna was barely aware of movement around her. This was not how she had envisioned meeting her bond mate, even in her wildest imaginings. The broken, pain-driven man she was linked to bore very little resemblance to the man to whom she’d struggled to explain their future relationship. That man had been strong, dominant and confident even while his life was in danger.
Subconsciously, Traveller was reaching out for Dancer, anxious because his brother wasn’t present. Anger welled up in Wrenna’s chest when she thought of Dancer’s focus, not on Trav’s injuries but on his own sense of betrayal. Trav sensed her disturbing thoughts and fought to break their rapport.
Abruptly, he threw off their link and demanded blurrily, “Take me to your leader!”
