“You are her magister, aren't you?” the War Mage growled. Aleister tensed, his shared irritation growing.
“I am, milord,” he replied in a polite but stilted voice.
Vander snickered. “Right proper, aren't you? Where are your weapons?”
Aleister willed a slender pair of Arkaddian blades into existence.
“Magick blades. Very nice. Very nice indeed. Well, then. I see no reason not to begin this training. By your leave, tem'Solidor?” Vander turned a questioning look to the Tem'.
Kalla frowned again as she detected the faintest shadow of fear in the Dashmari's eyes. Grosso merely nodded. He hadn't yet deigned to speak. Just watched them with a cold, impassive gaze. Kalla couldn't take it.
“With due respect, tem'Solidor, I don't think Vander a suitable candidate for my training. We do not work well together,” she said.
Grosso turned his impassive gaze on her, a look that brooked no argument.
“You will learn that too, then. Vander is your instructor in this matter,” the Master replied in a flat voice. Kalla swallowed her frustration.
“Yes, Master tem'Solidor.”
“Just so. Follow me then.” Vander led the way to a training courtyard within the depths of the Kanlon. Within waited Shingar, dressed in his spiky black armor. Vander gave him a nod and strode off to the side, gesturing for Kalla to join him.
“First things first. We are going to evaluate your magister's initial skill in a mock battle with Shingar here,” the thin Mage said. Alarm flooded her mind, followed by grim determination and, chasing after, the strange unidentifiable emotion. Kalla moved over to Aleister as he nervously eyed Shingar and his war mace. He willed a fox-shaped helm to protect his head.
“I want it noted that I object to this,” Kalla said. For a fleeting moment, the Dashmari's ears wilted and he made the same odd gesture towards her, though it seemed to Kalla a bit more exaggerated. Then it passed and he scowled at her. She ignored him and turned her attention to Aleister.
“I'm going to weave a protective shield around you. These shields are always used in training so that people do not get hurt. The training shields are also designed to freeze you if you are struck a mortal blow.” She concentrated a moment, weaving the shield around her magister. “Just be careful and do your best. This is only an assessment.” The mage gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder and gestured for him to square off against Shingar. She heard him swallow hard as he contemplated the massive man covered in black spikes and leaned closer, whispering in his ear. “He looks like a sea urchin, doesn't he?”
Aleister barked a laugh and went to face his opponent. Kalla stiffened as she realized they were attracting attention. Passersby stopped to watch. Vander explained the rules, then stepped out from the center, standing opposite to Kalla.
At Vander's command, Shingar bellowed and charged forward like an angry bull, swinging his mace in a fierce overhead strike. Aleister darted out of the way, his lack of armor making it easier to move. He ducked and spun, hoping to trip the other magister. He only succeeded in making him more angry and the mace came swinging down at his head again. He rolled away and sprang back up, parrying the next blow with the swords. The Sky Fox found himself at a loss. It had been a long time since he'd done this kind of training and never against someone armored. The skills of an Arkaddian vykr warrior were next to useless here. Back and forth the magisters went for several minutes more before Aleister found his energy starting to flag. He'd done a great job of avoiding the flailing mace, but not been able to use his own weapons any. He stumbled and Shingar pounced, faster than he had any right to be, sending the mace crashing into the Sky Fox's head. The next thing Aleister knew he was on his back, with a crushing, cruel headache. His vision was fuzzy and it sounded like people were speaking in tin cans. He heard Kalla screaming, vaguely felt her anger.
“What the hells happened? Get away from him!” Kalla roared with rage. She sent a wave of air slamming into Shingar, knocking him away from Aleister. Her magister didn't look good. Half his skull looked to be crushed. She used magick to gently tug off the fox-head helm only to find her worst fears confirmed. She whirled around.
“Go get Hauss. NOW! Go get Hauss!” she yelled at the gathered crowd. Several took off running. Kalla turned her attention back to Aleister. She had to get him stabilized. Speaking softly, she urged him to stay awake. He mumbled something incoherent as she gently set her power to work. As she worked she talked to him, trying to keep him awake. So intent was she that Kalla didn't even noticed Hauss was there until the gruff Chief Healer chided her out of the way.
“Enough, child. Leave me tend the wound. Keep his heart and his lungs steady,” Hauss said. The magister groaned and tried to pull away from Hauss' rougher treatment. Kalla started talking again, and Aleister focused one glazed, brown eye on her. The other had a shot pupil and didn't track with its mate.
“Kalla…” His voice was weak, barely audible. “Kalla… here, take this. I…want you to have it.” He pressed a small glass orb into her hand. “Thank you, milady… for this brief reprieve.”
Tears flooded her eyes. “No, Aleister. No. You're going to make it. Hauss is the best. He'll fix you right up, you'll see,” Kalla said in a choked voice.
“I… think… not… Please… keep the orb safe. After the light dies, keep it safe,” he whispered. She looked down at the orb he'd pushed into her hand. Sure enough, it glowed with a multi-hued light that was fast dimming. As she watched, the orb settled on two colors. Green shot with rose. She clutched it tightly in her hand, continuing to murmur softly to the now silent Sky Fox. For an interminable time they knelt there, she keeping her magister's breathing and heartrate even, Hauss working to heal the nuances of the complicated head wound.
Kalla wasn't aware of the crowd surrounding them. Nor was she aware of exactly when Sevrus sin'Wyvaldor and Malik sin'Solidor had arrived. She only dimly registered the commotion behind her as they tried to ascertain exactly what had happened. One thing did sink in and for it she was grateful. If Aleister survived, they were to be turned over to Warryn kyl'Wyvaldor for training. She spared a small smile, despite her worry. Warryn was her oldest friend. He and Shelk would be far easier to work with. At long last she sensed that Aleister's body was stabilizing on its own.
Hauss sat back, motioning for someone off to the side. Four healers in training came forward, with a sling litter. They gently transferred the magister to the litter and carefully carried him to the Healer's Hall. Kalla trailed along behind, still lost in worry. Some called out to her, trying to get her to stop, but she ignored them and followed Hauss.
While she walked she turned the glass orb over in her hands. Unless she was much mistaken, this would be Aleister's fox-ball. She was touched that he had entrusted it to her. The light had brightened somewhat, which meant that he wasn't dying at least. She froze, staring at the colors swirling within, and the import of what part of his essence lay within the gently pulsing orb.
A soft knock on the door woke Kalla. She groaned softly as she straightened. The mage had spent the entire night keeping vigil by her magister's bed. Healers had been in and out all night, checking to make sure that he remained stable. So far, so good, but head wounds were chancy even if mage-treated. There was still a very good chance he wouldn't wake or, if he did wake, that his personality wouldn't be the same.
The knock came again, more insistent this time. Before she could say anything, the door swung open and Hauss strode in. Behind him, a guilty looking Warryn lingered in the doorway. The elderly mage chased Warryn away, telling him to return again in thirty minutes or so. Hauss turned to regard her.
The Chief Healer of Cryshal Kanlon was an older and almost constantly grumpy Arkaddian. His hair was no longer reddish-brown, but a mane of cinnamon-tinged silver pulled up in a traditional Arkaddian bob. When it was down, it cascaded past his shoulders in a shimmering silvery waterfall. Hauss had a broad shouldered frame and Kalla knew that many of the women of the K
anlon found him handsome, despite his age. For herself, she couldn't consider him as anything other than a grandfatherly figure. He had been her mentor when she was going through the grueling training to be maester. Despite his gruff attitude the Healer had a heart of gold. She watched as he carefully examined her magister, noting every twitch and frown he made.
“How's he doing, Master Hauss?”
“Everything looks to be in order.” His face softened. “Give it time, child. Give it time. All we can do is wait and see what happens. The others will be in later, to begin the work needed to keep him fit until he recovers.”
She nodded. She'd done her fair share of therapy on such patients when she'd worked with the Chief Healer. A yawn brought that critical, penetrating gaze to her.
“Go get some food and rest yourself, Kalla. You know better. He'll be fine in our care.” Hauss' look told her he'd forcibly carry out his orders if he needed to. She knew he would too. Hauss never made idle threats. He made promises.
Kalla rose from the chair. “Do they know what happened yet? There was nothing wrong with my shield. I've made them numerous times,” she said.
“Indeed. There was nothing wrong with your shield, child. Shingar's weapon was enchanted to break through it, though they still aren't sure how.” The Healer sighed unhappily. “Master Sevrus has locked both Vander and Shingar in the Great Spire. Vander's power has been bound. He is no threat to you any longer. You should know, though, that Grosso is fighting against his exile, fighting against even a permanent binding,” Hauss replied. Kalla ran her hands through her hair.
“No, it does not surprise me… With all respect, Grosso should never have paired me with the War Mage in the first place.”
“I know, child. Go now. Get some sleep,” Hauss said gently. Kalla nodded and with a last glance back at Aleister's still form, she turned and left.
Warryn greeted her further down the hallway and accompanied her to the dining hall. The Rang'Moori mage was the assistant to the Chief Archivist. Warryn ran a hand through his curly blond hair as he hurried to keep up with Kalla.
“I'm sorry, Kalla. I'm so sorry to hear about what happened.”
The mage shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. She fought a losing battle to keep control of her emotions. A thin whimper escaped her and then she was leaning against the wall, sobs shaking her small frame.
“Why, Warryn. Why would they have tried to kill him? What had he ever done to them. He'd never even met them.”
The next thing she knew, someone had swept her off her feet. Through her tears she registered that it was Shelk, Warryn's magister. The big Copper Islander held her easily.
“I don't know, Kalla. I can't answer that. Let's get you to your rooms. We can have food brought up for you.”
Kalla didn't try to fight Shelk. In her current state, it would have been a losing battle. Warryn's blue eyes were full of concern. As they walked he kept up a stream of mindless banter, asking Kalla questions about her travels. She mumbled replies, trying her best not to lose control again. They reached her rooms in Spire Solidor in a matter of minutes. Apparently the servants had already aired them. There was even a fire going in the fireplace. Shelk carefully set her down on the bed and she wiped a hand across her face.
“Thank you, Shelk. I'm sorry you had to carry me.”
“It was no problem, Lady Kalla. I will go and have them bring you something to eat.” Shelk's molasses voice rolled over her, bringing with it a measure of calm. His broad, dark face broke into a grin.
“Do not worry about the Arkaddian, Lady Mage. He will be fine. You would not choose one who was weak. He will get better and then we will teach you properly,” Shelk rumbled. Kalla returned a shaky smile.
“I hope so,” she said. He nodded and strode out of the room in search of a servant, ignoring the bell-pull in order to give Kalla time to compose herself. She turned her attention back to Warryn. “I'm very glad that the Sin' assigned you and Shelk to train us, after…” Her voice trailed off. Warryn grinned.
“I look forward to it.” His grin faded as Kalla's face crumpled again. He sat down beside her, wrapping an arm around her and hugging her close.
“I'm sorry, Warryn. I don't know what's gotten in to me.” Without thinking, she pulled the fox-ball out of her pocket, rolling it around in her hand. Its light still shone steady, though not brightly.
“It's understandable, Kalla. It's not a crime to care and the two of you are bound to one another.” He peered closer. “Is that what I think it is? Where'd you get it?” She clutched the orb protectively, even though he hadn't made a move to take it. “Easy, there. I'm not going to snatch it from you,” he said gently. She laughed softly.
“Sorry. And yes, it is a kitsune orb. It belongs to Aleister.”
“Where'd he get it?” Warryn asked.
“No, it is his.” Kalla went on to explain their adventures on Argoth. Warryn whistled softly.
“So your magister is one of the fox-kin, huh.” He tapped the orb. “You realize what he gave you, right?” he asked. She smiled sadly.
“I know. I don't know why, but I know,” she replied in a muted voice. Warryn started to say something else, but his words were cut off by the returning Shelk. The big magister carried a tray with a plate of potato dumplings and a flask of fury wine. He put the tray on the table near the door and handed a small packet to Warryn.
“Master Hauss said to make sure she took this,” the big Copper Islander said. Kalla scowled at Warryn and Shelk, but didn't object as Warryn mixed the powder with the wine.
“Well now, you should get a nice long sleep in.” The pair stayed with her until she finally drifted off into sleep, then quietly snuck out with the tray.
By the time the mage woke again, it was dark. She'd slept the entire day. Kalla unconsciously cast her mind in search of Aleister only to be forcibly reminded that he was in a coma. After all these weeks of contact, the lack of thoughts brought a wash of loneliness over her. She pulled out the orb. It still shone faintly, green and rose swirling around one another. Pocketing it, she made her way back to the Healer's Hall. As she arrived at his room, two healers were leaving. They gave her a thumbs up sign that she took to mean that he was still stable. Not that she didn't trust them, but she did her own evaluation. Sure enough, all was well. She just needed to be patient. Too bad patience was something those of House Solidor tended to lack.
For that night and every one after she continued to keep her vigil. Days turned to weeks. She often helped with her magister's therapy and got to know all of the trainees quite well. Hauss had a promising bunch this time, especially in Manny Malkador. The young healer was one of the Plains people, but from Sveldtland rather than Arkaddia. Sveldtlanders had the same coffee-colored skin, but tended towards black hair rather than reddish-brown. He was almost always a part of the therapy team working with Aleister. Several more times Hauss had Warryn haul her away and dose her to make her sleep. A few times she had ridden out to Bensen'gar to visit Amaterasu. The wyvern was saddened to hear about Aleister and delighted to meet Warryn and Shelk.
Twice Kalla spoke before the Sin' and Tem' regarding her claims that Al'dhumarna was stirring. Of them all, Grosso still stood against her. Thankfully the Sin' took her more seriously. Master Sevrus assured her they were looking into it. Numerous reports of bizarre happenings came in daily now. Floods in the Plainslands were ruining the lush grass seas. Drought in Rang'Moori was creating a desert that spread at an alarmingly unnatural rate. Groundcities were still susceptible to attack. Even the skycities still found themselves approached by smaller bands of wyvern, but they were more vigilant now and well-protected by anti-airship guns.
Vander had been allowed to stay in the Kanlon. His powers were still bound and he and Shingar were still guests of the Great Spire. Part of her would have liked to have confronted him, demanded answers; part of her was scared what might happen if she did. Winter settled around Cryshal Kanlon, muting its glow and blanketing the surroun
ding fields. The Solstice Celebration fast approached, but Kalla's heart wasn't in it.
* * *
Aleister groaned and cracked one eye open. He found himself in a dimly lit room. In the waning light outside he could see that it was snowing. Why was it snowing? It had been fall when they'd gotten here. The Magister frowned. That was the last thing he remembered, landing at the Bensen'gar paddocks. He sought out Kalla's mind, but found her asleep. He closed his eyes again, listening to voices in the hall. With a small scraping sound, the door to his room opened and an older Arkaddian man stepped into the room. When he saw that Aleister was awake the scowl left his face and he smiled. He turned to the person behind them, instructing them to go fetch Kalla.
“Well now, son. I was afraid you were never going to wake up. I'd almost given up hope on you.”
“Given up hope?” Aleister frowned at the hoarseness of his voice. The Arkaddian came closer and rested his hands against the Sky Fox's temples. Aleister drew back at the touch.
“Easy, son. I just want to see how things are looking. You took a pretty bad blow to the head.” He stepped back, satisfied with what he found. Aleister ran a hand over the area. A small depression was all that remained as a mute testament to the wound that had felled him. “My name's Hauss. I'm the Chief Healer here.” Hauss took a seat on the wooden chair beside the bed. “Son, you've been in a coma for six weeks. If you hadn't been here, of all places, you wouldn't have survived.”
Aleister shook his head. “The last thing I remember is arriving at Bensen'gar.” He blinked as a flood of emotion engulfed him. A soft crack of power and his mage stood before them. Hauss scowled, but it softened as Kalla knelt beside the bed.
“You're awake. Great Balgeras, you're awake.” Something shimmered on her cheeks in the dim light. The Fox reached out and carefully wiped away a tear.
“You… you would weep for me?” he asked softly. Kalla gave a shaky laugh, but said nothing. She merely took his hand and squeezed it gently. A soft knock on the door and Manny came through, carrying a mug of something that steamed gently. As Kalla helped Aleister to sit up, Manny handed the mug to Hauss and departed. Hauss passed the mug to Aleister.
Mother of Wolves (Evalyce Worldshaper Book 1) Page 9
