The Restorer

by Sharon Hinck

  Cameron sneered. “Then let her step forward to testify. You can hear for yourself how she witnessed Tristan commit murder.”

  By now the room was in an uproar. Could I walk down the inclined floor to the center of the tower? Could I stand near Cameron and his Rhusican ally? Could I keep them from twisting my words?

  “I’m not allowed to go with you,” Mark whispered. “But the One will be by your side. Just don’t break any more rules. I’m surprised they didn’t throw you out. Stay within protocol.”

  I smoothed my tunic and left the haven of the Rendor balcony. Making my way down the ramp to the center of the chamber, I looked up at the faces all around. Not wanting to give Cameron a chance to take control, I spoke out immediately. “Yes, I was in Shamgar. Yes, I saw Tristan. A Rhusican with a sword was attacking him. He was defending himself.”

  Cameron interrupted. “You saw him kill the man?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then there is nothing more to say.”

  “I heard the Rhusican man. He bragged about what he had done to Tristan’s wife, Kendra.” Cameron tried to cut me off, but I shouted over the agitated discussion in the room. “The man said, ‘It won’t do any good, Tristan. Kendra won’t be coming back.’ He was the man who poisoned Kendra.”

  The chatter stopped, and shocked silence seized the room. The Braide Wood Council chief stood, fists pressing down against the railing in front of him. “I can testify that Kendra was taken ill with a strange poison of the mind. She has suffered for two seasons, and the healers haven’t been able to help her.”

  The Rhusican woman took a step toward the Braide Wood section of the tower. “We are new to your lands and have been grieved to learn about the illnesses your people endure. When we offered our alliance to you, we hoped to help you with this problem, as well as with others you face.” Her voice was soothing and mesmerizing. The mood in the chamber began to shift. She looked around the room and continued. “You can imagine how distressed I am that my husband, who was brutally murdered within your borders, is now being accused of something so reprehensible.” She played the sweet, frail victim with amazing skill. Next she’d be saying “I’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers” in a southern, Blanche DuBois accent.

  She turned to me, hypnotic color twirling in her irises.

  I quickly looked away.

  Cameron took a step to stand beside Medea. “We don’t need to go back over old ground. The last session agreed to an alliance with the Rhusican people. They are our allies. We owe them justice. In fact, since Tristan murdered one of their people, I recommend that, instead of banishment, we turn him over to the Rhusican people. They can try him in their own land.” A rumble of agreement moved throughout the cavernous room.

  Cameron was succeeding. Medea was using her Rhusican ability to twist the truth, and I could feel sympathy for her growing in the hall. And because of the rules of their Council, Tristan couldn’t even be here to defend himself. Not that he would. He’d probably loyally surrender his sword and his life to his precious Council, no matter how confused and manipulated they had become.

  And Cameron wasn’t finished.

  “I realize that this isn’t normal protocol, but there is another case I need to present, and since they are linked, with the permission of the Corros Fields Council chief, I will share it now.”

  Landon nodded his approval, and Cameron turned to me, showing his teeth. “There has been another murder.”

  Gasps and frenzied whispers circulated through the room. “Lyric, on behalf of our allies, the Rhusicans, brings a case again Susan of Braide Wood . . . or Rendor, or whatever loyalties she claims at the moment.” Disdain dripped from his words. “A Rhusican man with the welcome and protection of the Council visited Braide Wood. He was in quiet conversation with two young people, when this foreigner,” he pointed at me, “attacked him and stabbed him with her sword. He was unarmed. I call for a vote. Lyric demands she be turned over to the Rhusican people for their justice.”

  Two of the Council guards moved a few steps closer, preparing for the foregone conclusion. My heart raced. The faces around the room were a wall of hostility.

  Jorgen lumbered to his feet. “Rendor has a witness to present.” His strong, calm voice slowed the current of animosity. Wade and Linette were each brought in, in turn. Cameron forced them to admit that their memories of the event were foggy and uncertain. I knew it was because of the strange mental sleep the Rhusican had cast on them, but the Council wasn’t going to believe that. Mark had sent a messenger to find Kyle, but he hadn’t returned yet. My only reliable witness wasn’t here, and my fear grew. Before Cameron could again call for a vote, the Braide Wood Council chief rose.

  “I speak for Bekkah of Braide Wood. She is not able to be here, but she investigated this incident as a trusted member of the guardians. She questioned Kyle of Braide Wood, who confirmed that the man attacked Susan. She lifted her sword in defense, and the Rhusican’s own momentum impaled him.”

  Medea’s laughter tinkled through the room. “Well, this will not be a difficult decision for all you wise councilmembers.” She turned slowly, again looking at each chief councilmember with a conspiratorial smile. “She talks with an unarmed man, and moments later he is dead with her sword in his chest. None of the witnesses denies that fact.”

  A wave of despair crashed against my resolve. She was even convincing me that my defense was implausible. I was a murderer, and so was Tristan. I was going to be dragged away and given over to the Rhusicans. I looked up toward the Rendor balcony.

  Mark stood and gripped the balcony railing with such force that the muscles of his arms bulged against his tunic sleeves. He was leaning forward.

  I let him see the hopelessness in my face.

  His mouth moved. What was he saying? I let my hearing stretch and focused on his words that were too soft for anyone else to hear. “The Verses.”

  I blinked and shook myself. “Honored councilmembers,” I said before Landon could call for a vote. “Like Medea, I come from another land. But my people serve the One, just as you do. We also have Verses.”

  Cameron moved toward me to interrupt.

  I held up my hand and continued. “They tell the story of a great Council leader, who was also a guardian who fought for his people. Enemies with greater might surrounded them on all sides. But this leader reminded the people that their strength came from fearing the One and serving only Him. He spoke to the whole nation and said, ‘Choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your forefathers served beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.’”

  I looked around at the faces of the various councilmembers. I felt their decision balancing on the edge of a blade. “You are the People of the Verses. You follow the One. You must stand against the voices that lie and control your minds. Cameron said earlier that you don’t need to go back over old ground. He’s wrong. Last session you established an alliance with the Rhusicans, though such ties are forbidden in the Verses. Choose this day whom you will serve. You can’t have both.”

  Medea laughed sweetly. “Such a childish way to look at things. Of course you can have both. We are only here to help you where your One hasn’t been able to.”

  I scanned the room. Too many eyes were still clouded with confusion. I didn’t know how to fight the control Medea had over so many in the Council. But I had to try. “Honored Council, because I’m a newcomer, I haven’t yet learned all your Verses. Would you please indulge me? What do the Verses say? ‘Awesome in majesty . . . ’”

  “Is the One eternal,” the councilmembers responded automatically.

  “Perfect in His might and power,” Mark projected clearly into the room, still on his feet.

  Jorgen rose to stand beside him in the Rendor balcony and bellowed, “The
only truth and only source.”

  “He made all that is and loves all He made,” the answering voices proclaimed in unison. “His works are beyond our understanding.” The councilmembers continued reciting these core truths; one by one people rose to their feet as the words continued, and the strength in their voices grew.

  The current had turned. The hostility and fear faded from the faces around the room. They no longer focused on Cameron, Medea, or me. They looked across the chamber at their fellow clans, reveling in the unity they shared, drawing strength from the Verses.

  I soaked in the power of their words.

  They continued on to the promise of the Deliverer to come. Then Jorgen began singing the hymn I had heard two days earlier at the gathering. The entire Council joined him. I even saw a few of the Council guards moving their mouths.

  Awesome in majesty, perfect in power,

  One to deliver us, He is our tower.

  Enemies circle us, darkness descending;

  He is the Morning Light, love without ending.

  I was lost in the beauty of the hymn resonating through the room and almost missed the sudden blur of movement at my side. I turned.

  Medea ran at me with something in her raised hand. Her face contorted with rage.

  I stumbled back, but everything happened too fast. Her fist came down, and I realized as a razor-sharp blade cut into my chest that the object in her hand was a knife.

  I collapsed to my knees from the force of her attack. Time stopped, and I turned my head to watch Mark catapult over the railing to race toward me. In the second of shock before I felt pain, two Council guards ran forward to pull Medea away. Her face twisted in a snarling scream, but I didn’t hear the sound. It was like watching a muted television from far away. It didn’t seem real.

  I fell back and knew Mark was there. His arms supported me. I wanted to thank him. The pain exploded, and I couldn’t speak.

  He pulled the knife from my chest. I noticed from a strange mental distance that the curved blade was beautifully designed. My lungs gurgled when I tried to breathe.

  Mark’s eyes were wide with panic and anguish. His lips moved, calling my name, but I couldn’t hear anything but a roaring hum. I wanted to tell him I’d be all right, but I was swallowed up in darkness. As his face faded from my sight, I wondered how many rules of protocol had just been broken.

  Chapter

  27

  “Susan, can you hear me?” There was a tickle by my ear. I reached up to brush it away, and my hand whacked something warm and scratchy.

  “Ow! Look out!” Mark protested.

  My eyes popped open.

  I had flailed my knuckles into his whisker-stubbled face. His blue-gray eyes were inches from mine. They shimmered, and I almost thought they filled with tears.

  I couldn’t study them long enough to figure it out, because Mark pulled me close, burying my face against him with a groan of relief. “I wasn’t sure you would heal,” he whispered.

  “Where are we?” I squeaked, thinking that if he squeezed much harder, I’d pass out again.

  He loosened his grip so I could look around. “The outer Rendor office. They sent for a Lyric healer. How do you feel?”

  I tried to assess that. “A little sore, but I can breathe again. That’s an improvement.” I touched the furrows on Mark’s forehead, trying to smooth away his worry. “Did that Rhusican really go crazy and stab me?”

  “Mm hmm.” Mark checked the cloth he had pressed against my sternum. “Looks like the bleeding has stopped.”

  “So what did the Council do? Are they finally figuring out what the Rhusicans have been doing to them?”

  Mark nodded. “After the guards dragged Medea off, I carried you out here, and they sent for help. There was so much chaos in the chamber, they almost decided to stop for the day, but Jorgen convinced them without too much trouble that it was important to move ahead on some decisions.”

  “Good. When they were singing, I could see them waking up. I wouldn’t want them to lose that.”

  Mark stroked the hair back from my forehead. “Don’t worry. They felt terrible about the attack, but they were way too stirred up to walk away for the day. They had quite the discussion. One of the apprentices slipped out to tell me about it. The Songs really broke the hold the Rhusicans had on so many in the Council. And seeing Medea lose control and attack you helped. Chief councilmembers started reporting all sorts of strange problems that happened in any clan visited by the Rhusicans. They’ve come to their senses and voted to revoke their welcome to any Rhusicans in our borders.”

  I nodded and felt a rush of satisfaction. I was so tired of battling their lies. Strength surged back into me as I thought of them being sent back to where they came from. The People of the Verses still faced some powerful enemies, but with their hearts twisted and controlled, there hadn’t been any hope at all. Now we could move forward. “And did they kick out Cameron, too?” I asked.

  “No, Cameron acted shocked at Medea’s actions and convinced the Council that he really believed they meant to help us.” Mark shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he was deceived by them, too.”

  I pushed myself up on my elbows and looked down at my tunic. The rust color didn’t do much to hide the blood all over it or the gash over my heart. “Um, Mark? I think I’ll need a new tunic.”

  He started chuckling, and I joined him. Our giddy relief made everything seem funny. We were still laughing helplessly when the door to the outer hall burst open. Wade rushed in, dragging a woman by the arm. When he released her, she glared at him and took a split-second to smooth her crisp green tunic and touch her hair, which was pulled back into a neat braid. Then she lifted her cloth bag and hurried toward us.

  “Step aside,” she ordered in a calm, businesslike voice. She knelt on the floor beside me and began efficiently pulling items from her bag, though she spared a moment to glare at Mark. “You pulled the knife out?” When he nodded, she shook her head. “Next time, leave it until help arrives. You can cause more bleeding and damage by removing it.”

  “Next time?” I gasped. That struck me as so funny that I started giggling again.

  The healer looked at me in alarm. Wade slipped outside to stand guard, and Mark hovered while the healer examined a wound that had already closed. “I don’t understand. I thought you were attacked.” Her eyes took in the sticky blood on my skin and tunic and turned back to the gash that was fading to a thin scar.

  I looked at Mark, not sure what to say.

  She didn’t wait for an explanation, but pulled something that looked like a light cube from her bag. Attaching small patches to several places over my heart, she studied the cube in her hand. With a professional smile that didn’t match the worry in her eyes, she patted my shoulder. “Just rest here. This will keep you warm to prevent shock.” She pulled a paper-thin sheet of fabric from her bag and unfurled it over me.

  I instantly felt as if I were bundled in a huge heating pad and sighed with pleasure.

  The Lyric healer pulled Mark to the far side of the room and held the cube in her hands up to him. She spoke in low tones, but I had no trouble eavesdropping.

  “You can see where the knife blade entered the heart. It’s healed well.” She paused, waiting for an explanation from Mark, but he didn’t say anything, so she continued. “But look at this.” She pointed to something else.

  “What does it mean?” All levity was gone from his voice.

  “I’m not sure. There is some kind of scarring from a past injury. Has she had any other symptoms?”

  “She’s been short of breath sometimes . . . seemed to have some chest pain.”

  “I’m surprised she’s been walking around at all. Her heart is severely damaged.”

  She had the sympathetic but aloof expression that I remembered from the doctor who told our family that my dad’s cancer was
terminal.

  Mark recognized the look as well, and the color washed from his face. “How is that possible?”

  The healer started to explain again, but Mark shook his head. “You don’t understand. She’s the Restorer.”

  The healer fumbled the cube in her hands and nearly dropped it. “What did you say?” Her medical poise crumbled. She pulled Mark farther away and sank into a chair. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” He looked at her without blinking. “I know a little bit about the signs of a Restorer. Can you help her?”

  The healer rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know. Was she injured before her Restorer powers began to work? Do you know what caused this damage?”

  “I think it was Cameron. He interrogated her with drugs.”

  The healer bristled. “I’ve told the Council time and again that they shouldn’t be using those chemicals without a healer present. Who knows how they might affect the people he interviews from foreign nations? I don’t care how much he insists that he’s only protecting our security, it’s wrong to be using drugs for those purposes.”

  Mark interrupted before she could step farther up onto her soapbox. “She was already manifesting Restorer healing before he questioned her. I don’t understand why the damage hasn’t healed.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you.” The healer glanced over at me and seemed to realize that I was following their conversation. “The only other Restorer in my lifetime was Mikkel, but I never saw him. Maybe a Rendor healer would have more information. In the meantime, make sure she gets lots of rest and avoids putting strain on her heart. I have some herbs that are helpful in promoting healing.”

  It was tempting to keep resting under the warm sheet, but I knew I had to get moving. From the time he found out I was the Restorer, Mark had lived with worry and fear. In the past few days, he had become resigned to my role and determined to help. In the process, his anxiety had gradually eased somewhat. I didn’t want to lose that ground to vague worries about my health.