Finder: First Ordinance, Book One

by Connie Suttle

  Strangely enough, I understood their language clearly, and could have written it as well, if I'd had the inclination. Another, unexplainable thing that I was left to ponder. They were looking for information on a cure for some terrible disease, and had not the skill to heal it themselves. I guessed, and quickly, that they were physicians. I had no idea what they thought to find in books stuffed in the Avii Library.

  "It says here the last talented healer walked through the gate six centuries ago," One of three men pointed to a phrase in his book.

  "So, there are no others? High President Charkisul is desperate."

  "We know they've asked to bring their severely wounded to us at times; of course there is no other," the third man declared in frustration. "Charkisul is grasping at the moons. There is no cure for this illness, and it is time he faced that fact and made preparations for his son's death."

  "We cannot go back and tell him we have not exhausted every option, or read every passage," the second, more levelheaded one pointed out quietly.

  "No, we will do our duty as assigned, and give him a complete report upon our return. Come, let us get back to work," the first one chided, and all three went back to sifting through stacks of books.

  * * *

  "Quin, do you know what this is?" Ordin held one of my now lengthy nubs in his hands, fingering a knob at the end of it. We stood before a large mirror, and I turned to look over my shoulder at what he was touching. I shook my head—I had no idea what it was.

  "This is the beginning of a hinge," Ordin sighed. "The hinge we have to fold our wings up to keep them from dragging the floor behind us," he added. "You are growing wings, young one. Let us both pray to Liron that they are green."

  "But I have no feathers," I pointed out the obvious.

  "Quin, I feel the beginnings of pin feathers," Ordin ran a hand down the inside edge of my lengthening nubs. "In two or three weeks, we may have to roll off the pinfeathers so the feathers may grow out. We will know quickly which color they are then."

  "Master Ordin, that cannot be a good thing," I quavered. "So many already think me a terrible aberration. What will they do when I grow feathers? I can only imagine the contempt will increase."

  "Why are they growing now?" Ordin stroked his chin, muttering his thoughts aloud.

  "Every spring, someone from the stables came and cut them away, at the court physician's orders," I hung my head. "Until this turn. The court physician died recently, and there was a new stablemaster."

  "Do you mean to tell me those barbarians cut away your wings?" Ordin was furious, pacing away from me in heated anger. "Child, that must have been terrible pain," he hesitated in his muttered cursing to turn back to me.

  "It was terrible pain," I nodded. "Master Ordin, I must get back to the Library. The Kondari physicians are searching for a cure to a terrible disease, and they are finding nothing in the books."

  "Those are physicians?" Ordin lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

  "Yes," I nodded. "They search for a cure for the High President's son. He is dying and they cannot cure him."

  "How do you know this? They always speak in their own language when going through the stacks."

  "I can understand it," my face went hot with the embarrassing admission.

  "And Gurnil has been grumpy for days, because he cannot get them to tell him what they search for," Ordin said. I shrank away when Ordin stalked past me, snatching up a piece of parchment from his massive desk and hastily scribbling a note to Gurnil. "Take this to Gurnil and make sure he reads it immediately. I must go to the King." Ordin shooed me away from his suite, and I nearly ran down narrow, twisting corridors to get back to the Library and Gurnil, who waited there for me.

  * * *

  "The High President's son is ill?" Jurris sat on a comfortable chaise inside his suite, Justis standing nearby, listening but not speaking as Ordin supplied information he'd gleaned from Quin.

  "Yes, Lord King," Ordin nodded respectfully. "I believe this is privileged information that the High President does not wish to be broadcast; else they would have asked Gurnil for assistance. They have not."

  "I see. And what do you think we will gain from this information?" Jurris asked in a bored voice.

  "We could gain much, if we cure the High President's son. We have something they will pay much for, when you think about it. If Quin can heal the boy, what might the High President offer in return?"

  "Will he offer money for jewelry? More solar-powered machinery? We can do much with what the High President can offer," Halthea wandered in from Jurris' bedroom dressed in a red silk caftan, a glass of wine in her hand.

  "We must pay for their physicians' services," Gurnil pointed out. "Why can we not demand the same?"

  "You think the girl can do this? We'll have to cover those ugly nubs," Jurris rose. Ordin knew Jurris was not only considering this suggestion, he was already counting out the credits for his personal treasury. Ordin also knew that Jurris recognized the girl's talents; he was just too stubborn, too prejudiced and too immersed in Halthea's short-sightedness to allow him to take the girl and train her.

  Ordin already intended to bring the severely wounded to her anyway, so they wouldn't have to be shipped to Kondari physicians. He hoped, yet again, that the girl would sprout Green Wings. That would make things infinitely better.

  "I'll have the tailors make capes," Justis said and strode from Jurris' suite.

  "Problem solved," Halthea examined a nail.

  * * *

  I huddled in a corner and trembled as three Kondari physicians by turns shouted and frowned at Gurnil. And this after he explained that I'd healed a mother and child not long ago in halting words, worried over which ones the Kondari might understand.

  They were planning to offer my services to the Kondari, for a price. That information lodged in my head as soon as King Jurris had decided it. I had no idea why Ordin wanted to put me through this, but it was obvious that the King (and others) desired much of the technology available from Kondar.

  "You and I are going with her, as is Justis," Ordin flapped into the Library, his wide, green robes swaying about him. His wings were ruffled from the flight—he'd flown and landed on the Library's terrace.

  I could understand that Ordin and Gurnil might go, but Justis? Unless it was to guard the King's newest asset—me. And just as it had been in Fyris, I'd become a bargaining tool. No, I would reap none of the reward for doing what they asked of me; they would take it for themselves and demand exactly the same the next time. And the times after that. I was used to it, but still it burned.

  "The High President will offer nothing until the boy is healed and the healing lasts and is confirmed," the eldest Kondari physician said, arms crossed over his chest.

  "Agreed. We expect no less," Ordin nodded. "But once it is confirmed, then we will demand payment. The King waits for you now, to discuss terms."

  * * *

  My next two days were spent proving myself (under Ordin's close supervision) as I healed broken bones, burns and a few rashes. Not much, but that was all Ordin could provide in the way of illness and injury for the physician's approval at the moment. I did not offer that I'd cured a small girl in Vhrist of the wasting disease. The Kondari physicians called it cancer, and a rare form of the disease was what afflicted the High President's son. I worried they would question my talent and beat me, but I did not voice those concerns aloud.

  "She seldom speaks," Ordin said when the eldest physician, an old and much wrinkled man, remarked on my silence. He did not elaborate upon my past and I certainly wasn't going to enlighten the man.

  Capes were brought on the second day, and I was asked to wear them the entire time I was in Kondar. I didn't mind; I'd gotten a good glimpse of my still naked, lengthening nubs, which hung past my waist. The hinge that Ordin had pointed out to me looked to be growing larger, too, with an extension past the joint. I truly was growing wings, and they looked hideous.

  More clothing was provided
as well, in a combination of blues, yellows and greens (all backless), to match the capes provided. A Yellow Wing with the talent for hair cutting, makeup and such came to trim my hair so I would be presentable to the High President and his family. Otherwise, I think I might have been sent to Kondar dressed as poorly as I usually was in the stained, yellow outfits I wore in the kitchen.

  * * *

  "We'll fly in their mechanical contraption," Gurnil explained as we made our way onto the grass lying inside the glass bowl, after walking through a door I'd never passed through before. In the distance, I saw a flock of sheep tended by a watchful Gray Wing. Sighing a bit, as there was no time to spend with tiny lambs and mothers who bleated in my direction, I climbed high steps into a contraption that had whirling, blade-like wings attached. In no time, we were fastened into seats, which bore belts with metal ends that clipped together.

  "It will take two clicks to arrive," Ordin said beside me, bouncing in his seat when we hit a pocket of unruly winds. Justis sat across the aisle, his eyes hooded and no expression on his features. Gurnil attempted to speak with the physicians, but he stumbled through the Kondari language just as the Kondari stumbled through ours.

  The Kondari had communication devices that they employed often, either tapping in written messages or speaking directly with another who was far away. King Tamblin thought to attack these? It would be the same as if a child with a stick threatened a fully-grown man equipped with a sword. There would be no battle and Fyris would be destroyed in a blink.

  "Why has Kondar not approached or attacked Fyris?" I turned to Ordin to ask.

  "Because of the shield," Ordin replied as quietly as he could. "I will explain it later, young one. In the meantime, do not mention Fyris to any of these." He gripped my arm to drive home the seriousness of his statement. Without his telling me, I already understood that doing so would place Fyris in danger. Somehow, the only ones who seemed to realize the continent of Fyris existed were the winged Avii that dwelt inside a glass bowl in the middle of a very deep ocean.

  Huddling into my seat, I spared a glance at Justis, who stared through a window of our flying transport, ignoring all else around him. Perhaps I was the only other there who realized that he wished to be flying himself through the white, misty clouds we encountered on our way to Kondar.

  * * *

  I will never forget my first sight of Kondar, even from the air. Great cities blurred beneath us, and many tall buildings rose high in the air as we flew swiftly by them. With the gift I had, I realized that the population numbered in the millions—a staggering amount to me, who barely had counted anything past hundreds before.

  Kondar was large—perhaps seventy times larger than Fyris, and my skin went cold at the thought. Again, I realized how much of a fool Tamblin truly was, and Yevil likely encouraged his erroneous thinking. I also considered what kind of shield would be strong enough to hide a small continent from people as technologically advanced as the Kondari.

  Soon enough, our flying machine began to drift downward, until it settled carefully atop a tall building. I'd wondered along the way what one of the structures would look like if one could go inside.

  I learned quickly enough. I was herded from the machine and through a doorway on the rooftop upon which we landed, then led toward doors that slid open at the touch of a lighted button at the side.

  "I hope this isn't a fool's errand," the eldest Kondari physician spoke as we crowded into the waiting metal cubicle. The doors closed again once we were inside and the cubicle moved downward, giving my stomach a slight jerk before it settled itself.

  "You are not required to bow before the High President," another physician instructed as the cubicle jerked slightly and stopped. "As you are foreign, we will observe your protocol instead, and accept a respectful nod."

  Ordin had a hand at my back, ushering me from the metal cubicle. We were led down a long hall, tiled in a material unfamiliar to me, and overhead, long, artificial lights illuminated our journey.

  Many rooms lined the hallway, some with doors partly open. I saw the sick lying in beds, many of whom were connected by strange tubes to beeping or whirring machines. But these were not the ones I'd been brought to help; like me, they were unimportant. I was here to help the better connected and more fortunate.

  "Here." We were led into a room much more spacious than any we'd walked past. A wide bank of windows lined one side, overlooking a lush garden filled with plants and flowers, many of which I had never seen before. Lying in a bed near those windows was a young man, unconscious and oblivious to the garden view he'd been given.

  Thin and wasted he was, his cheeks pale and falling in upon themselves. He also was connected to softly beeping devices, and I understood that medicine was slowly being administered. I also understood that it was to keep the pain at bay—the disease was taking the boy, who was just past sixteen.

  "Tell me you can help him," a man stood beside the bed, his suffering at the fate of his son aging his features. Here was a man who loved his child. For that alone, I would heal the boy and do it gladly.

  "I will do this," I nodded to the man, speaking in his language. Ordin informed me later that when I put my hands on the young man, the golden light was so bright in the room that all present closed their eyes against it. I was unaware, truly, as I was changing the things in the boy's body that had turned against it, reshaping them to follow their natural path.

  I also heard from Gurnil that the boy opened his eyes and spoke with his father not long after I finished healing him. I was carried away from the boy's room by Justis; I'd fainted after such a difficult healing, after all.

  Chapter 10

  "We are expected to stay while the tests are run," Ordin informed me when I woke. A tray of fruit and other food was waiting, along with fruit juice and water. Consuming the fruit juice first, I drank thirstily while Ordin watched. He and the others had already eaten; I discovered that as I bit into an apple. So seldom had I gotten fruit, even after coming to the Avii, that I relished every bite, right down to the core.

  "Try this," Ordin partially peeled a long, yellow fruit and handed it to me. I almost went into raptures at the taste, it was so good. I was too full to try the rest after that, and wanted to sleep again. Ordin nodded and closed the door of the private suite I'd been given, allowing me the sleep my body demanded.

  * * *

  "How's the boy?" Justis asked when Gurnil entered their assigned apartment.

  "So far, all tests indicate the disease has disappeared. Their technicians don't know what to make of this. The President placed guards outside Quin's room, however, and that concerns me. Gurnil is asking to see the President, and they keep putting him off."

  "I'm not surprised. My brother asked for an exorbitant amount. Perhaps Charkisul is protecting his investment, until he learns his son is healthy."

  "How much did Jurris ask for the healing?" Ordin narrowed his eyes at Justis.

  "Four million. Do not say where that information came from. He'll know." Justis rustled his wings. "A parent will pay most any price to save a child. Jurris was counting on that."

  "Jurris is still angry that Halthea hasn't conceived," Ordin grunted. "You think he'll ask Quin to fix that, too, then keep her in the kitchens?"

  "I'd prefer that didn't happen," Justis turned his back on Ordin to stare out the window in the main room of their shared apartment. "He still has Wimla and Vorina. Either would be happy to provide a child."

  "But the odds aren't as good that the children will be Red-Winged," Ordin snorted. "He wants a Red-Winged heir."

  "Perhaps there is a good reason Halthea hasn't conceived, then. Few are getting children, even here in Kondar. The President is fortunate to have a child. Doubly fortunate that Quin was able to heal him." Justis shook his head.

  "How much of that money will go to Quin?" Ordin asked softly.

  Justis snorted his answer.

  * * *

  "Message from my father." Rodrik handed the
sealed parchment to Amlis, who sat next to a window in Timblor's old suite, staring at low clouds hanging over the courtyard and walls surrounding the castle.

  Amlis accepted the message absently and broke the seal before turning his eyes away from the gray skies outside. "It's as if the rain is poison, as well as the ground it falls upon," Amlis unrolled the message with a sigh. "Three ships built. Father wants six, plus the conscription of all larger vessels. Not much time left, Rod, before we have to devise a plan to curtail this madness."

  "Have you seen the recruits coming in? Less than half what your father wants, and half of those look sickly."

  "I've seen them. Any news on healers? We sent the conscription notices out ten days ago."

  "I have no idea whether there are any to come," Rodrik replied, watching as the first raindrop slid down the window. It was spring, and spring brought rain. "The healers in Vhoorth are too old for conscription, or are women. Perhaps it is the same everywhere."

  "Then perhaps it is time to speak to Father about conscripting female healers."

  "He won't like that."

  "I know. It's time he realized that women are as good as men at many things."

  "Better at some," Rodrik muttered. "I worry that the girls aren't being educated, when the boys are."

  "True. Rod, so many things need changing."

  "And to speak those things aloud could get both of us killed."

  "Also true. Where is my father?"

  "In his study, with Yevil."

  "Then now is not the time to approach him."

  "Wise. Very wise."

  * * *

  "Does it ever concern you that this is used instead of coin?" Justis studied the chip embedded in a square, clear substance. It resembled glass but didn't break, as glass would.

  "That is only the record of our payment. The actual payment is recorded in a machine at a building. You and your brother have access, through your fingers and your eyes. I fail to understand the machinery required to do the scans, as they're called." Gurnil shook his head.