by Zen DiPietro
A mangled leaf shivered, and its missing half unfurled, turning it into a perfect specimen. Beside it, another leaf regained its glory. Like a string of firecrackers, all the way up that branch and down another, the leaves burst into full health. Élan continued until the entire tree brimmed with healthy vigor. Only then did she draw her song to a close. With a smile of contentment, she admired the tree, now hale and whole as it should be.
She’d amused herself with doing similar things as an adolescent, though on a much smaller scale. In her adult life, she’d rarely bothered using her mana for much besides enhancing her music.
“That was lovely.”
Élan started and realized that Kassimeigh had approached her and sat nearby, without Élan’s notice. A manahi shiv, she thought wryly. What a combination. Élan had a tendency to forget about one half of that equation whenever the other half was on display. Right now, Kassimeigh was both. That made her breathtakingly dangerous. Fortunately Élan did not intimidate easily. Indeed, she had a tendency to forge ahead boldly even when she had no real basis for such confidence.
“Thank you.” She rested the flute on its case. In spite of Kassimeigh’s savage use of mana moments ago, she wasn’t the least bit out of breath or fatigued. Her serene composure made Élan wonder what it would take to rile her.
“What were you doing over there?” She pointed to where Kassimeigh had been. She noticed Arc approach, but stop a short distance away, allowing them privacy.
“Just trying some things out. Testing the qualities of the mana to see if it differs from that of the dead zones. It doesn’t, though the mana here is not as strong as in the areas that were completely barren. That might be significant.”
“If you want to do that linking thing you mentioned before, I’ll do it. Right now.”
Kassimeigh’s eyebrows rose. “Why?”
“Because I’m sad for this tree that’s doomed to die, along with all his friends. He’s healthy now but won’t stay that way unless we help. And because whatever you were doing over there was beautiful. Call me inspired.”
“I’ll call you whatever you want if it means a chance to link with you.” Had Kassimeigh made a joke?
Before Élan could decide, Kassimeigh pointed to a large tree nearby that was partially denuded. “All right. Do what you did before, but with that tree.”
“I’ll try. I can only cycle so much mana before it starts to chafe.” With a quick breath, she blew a more lighthearted song this time. She opened the conduit between her and Terath, let the mana flow, and directed her music toward the tree. Her breath caught for a second when she recognized the link that Kassimeigh forged between them. A presence loomed within her, and she waited for something else to happen. It lurked passively, but nothing more. She felt no pressure to perform or push beyond her boundaries. Her previous experience with linking had felt like a manahi grabbing her hands through the gaps of a fence and smashing her head into the fence repeatedly as they tried to pull her through it. This felt entirely accepting and comfortable.
After a few minutes, Kassimeigh nodded to her and she stopped playing the flute. The tree in question had recovered a few branches’ worth of leaves.
“How did you feel about that?” Kassimeigh studied her carefully.
“Fine. It was fine.”
“Would you be willing to take it a step further?”
“What does that mean?”
Kassimeigh leaned forward. “I’ll keep the link between us but will give you the benefit of some of my mana to augment your efforts. That’s all. No lasting effect, just some backup battery.”
“I suppose that would be okay.” She agreed quickly so that she didn’t have time to think about all the reasons she should say no.
Again, she put the flute to her lips and played a spritely song whose notes danced through the forest. Élan refocused on the tree, guiding the mana toward it so it could heal. A heady, tingling rush roared through her like a blissful wildfire. She held on to the song she was playing and it anchored her against the tide of mana that might otherwise sweep her away. She fought the gasp that rose in her throat, keeping her song measured by force of will. Damned if she’d let Kassimeigh see her fail. Not happening.
Élan watched the entire tree bloom into natural, healthy fullness. The one next to it did the same. Their very color seemed to deepen and brighten into a sumptuous emerald shade that only existed in the hinterlands and fairy tales. The grasses and groundcover grew thick and lush. Even the air seemed cleaner and sweeter. All around them, verdant health burst forth, drenching them in sumptuous beauty. When finally the tidal wave of power and pleasure broke and receded, she let her hands sink to her lap, still holding the flute. Her eyes widened and she pressed one hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath. In the wake of such intensity, she felt exposed under the eyes of Arc and Kassimeigh.
“Is it always like that?”
“I don’t know what it’s usually like for you, but that was certainly unlike anything I’ve experienced.” Kassimeigh’s eyes were kind.
“It was like every time I’ve drawn mana rolled up into one moment and multiplied by a million. You’re so strong.”
“The only thing I did was serve as a battery pack. The actual use of mana was all yours.”
Élan huffed out a breath. “Well then, you’re one hell of a battery.” She tried to will her heartbeat to slow.
Kassimeigh’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Yes. I think we did quite well.”
“Did you learn anything useful?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“A new way of viewing mana flow. Before, I’d have repaired those plants by ripping mana from the space around me and forcing it into them, transplanting the energy from one place to another. Your way of using mana is almost the opposite. You draw it out and let it flow. It’s gentle. Organic.” Kassimeigh smiled. “Your method of mana use could be the key to fixing whatever is going wrong here.”
Élan wasn’t sure whether to be a little excited or a lot worried.
Élan had no opportunity to take stock of her feelings because Kassimeigh made the most of the flight back to the bard campsite. Élan held her breath and closed her eyes during the worst of the stomach-defying maneuvers above the tree canopy. Fortunately for her and Arc, Kassimeigh tied a bit of mana around them to keep them firmly seated on their makeshift ride. The tether proved particularly useful when she banked a little too hard or effected a sudden climb or dip. When they set down at their destination, Élan scrambled to her feet and off of the board.
“I don’t know whether to be exhilarated or terrified. My legs are jelly.” She stamped her feet a little, to try to rid herself of the sensation.
Arc laughed and Kassimeigh smiled. “Sorry about that,” their pilot offered. “I think I had a bit too much fun.”
Arc nudged her playfully. “I had no idea you were a daredevil. I like it.”
“Glad you approve. How did you like the ride?”
“Hmm. It was equal measures of fun and harrowing.”
“Well, I’m glad you found some fun in it because I’m thinking that’s my new favorite mode of transportation. Fast, fun, and convenient.”
“Oh.” Arc seemed to struggle for the right answer. “Great.”
Kassimeigh’s eyes suggested some thoughtful calculating, and Élan doubted she’d like whatever the woman said next.
“Let’s collect all of our things. I have plans and time is critical. I’ll fill you in while we work.” Kassimeigh focused her attention on Élan. “If you could please pack up and prepare to leave, that would be great. You can meet us here when you’re ready.”
Élan couldn’t remember having agreed to go anywhere. “I’d like to hear the plan first. I didn’t sign on for anything past the visit to that would-be dead zone.”
Kassimeigh made a dismissive gesture. “Just a trip to the Capital to meet with a few colleagues. Don’t worry.”
Unaccustomed to being told wh
at to do, Élan paused. She was tempted to argue on principle, but when she gave the situation a mental once-over, she reluctantly accepted that she trusted Kassimeigh. Besides, her spirit of adventure tugged her toward the path that the manahi was about to show her. She was sure it would be something she’d never seen before, and that was enough reason to roll with it.
“All right. I’ll meet you shortly.” In spite of her deliberation, she still questioned her prudence. Either all of this would turn out to be incredibly amazing, or she’d end up regretting it for the rest of her life.
5
Élan wondered where it had all gone wrong. A day ago, she’d been excited about gathering with her friends and enjoying a song circle. She’d looked forward to a couple days of music, laughter, and creativity. Today, she sat on a board, flying at speeds not meant for people who happened to be sitting on a board, while aimed toward the Capital to meet with the leader of the Council of Magistrates. Oh, and one of the preeminent manahi on the planet. She hadn’t been exactly thrilled when Kassimeigh had relayed those details, only after they’d gotten under way.
Arc and Kassimeigh both gazed out at the horizon, while she worked to reconcile her modest expectations of life with the reality that now laughed at those simple desires. She reminded herself of her interest in new experiences. She’d almost managed to convince herself that she’d made a good decision when she glanced at the blur of ground beneath the flying board. Nope. Still not feeling good about things. She pressed her fingers into the wood beneath her, but found no handhold to latch onto.
They made it to the Capital in less than half the time it would have taken via the standard cart-and-monorail method. This made the transition from hinterlands to the city almost too smooth and too fast, leaving Élan unsettled. Kassimeigh flew them right up to the door of what appeared to be a restaurant.
Élan had always liked Capital City. Its tall, modern buildings scattered amongst courtyards, gardens, and the occasional smaller building or home. Though the city was thoroughly modern, nature served as a central element. From the floral frescoes to the artistic architecture, the city stood apart from any other. Usually, she had the chance to enjoy the cityscape as she walked out from the monorail station, but Kassimeigh’s flying approach had given her a unique aerial view, instead. Élan realized she’d forgotten to cover her hair and hide her eyes behind sunshades, as she normally would for an outing among the general public. Too late now.
They stood and stepped off the board onto a side street of the main avenue. Élan tried to remain nonchalant as people in the vicinity froze and gawked at their unique arrival. She sneaked a peek at the other two to see how they were handling the attention. Arc simply grinned, his good humor in full evidence. Kassimeigh seemed entirely unaffected, as if nothing unusual had even occurred. She lifted the board at one end and leaned it tidily against the building.
Muffled murmurings continued behind them as Arc opened the door and they stepped inside. Élan couldn’t contain the laugh that burbled out of her when she peeked back and saw people standing around, staring at the board as if it would do something amazing all by itself. In spite of their daily reliance on mana, most people didn’t usually see such a blatant, powerful display of it. She felt certain that no one had noticed her, as they were far too amazed by Kassimeigh’s flying board.
Élan’s grin froze when she turned and found herself face-to-face with Magistrate Trewe, leader of the Council of Magistrates. The elegant woman radiated shrewdness. She smiled at Élan and offered her hands in greeting. The frowning bald manahi from the hinterlands stood behind her.
“It’s good to meet you,” the magistrate said warmly. “If Kassimeigh is impressed with you, then I have no doubt that I will be, as well.”
“Thank you, Magistrate.” Élan quickly thrust out her own hands, feeling uncharacteristically awkward. “I hope I can be of help.”
“I’m sure you will. Please, come this way. I’ve arranged a private room here at Vito’s Fork and Fire. It’s my favorite restaurant. I thought you three could use a good meal, and we can chat in the meantime.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you.” Élan glanced around, but no one seemed to be paying particular attention to their group.
They filed into the room, took seats, and ordered selections from the menu. Too preoccupied with her dinner companions, she simply stabbed her finger at the first offering. She wanted to keep her eyes on the magistrate and the manahi beside her.
She remembered the man from the hinterlands, who appeared somewhat older than Magistrate Trewe. Élan found it difficult to hazard a good guess at the lady’s age, though.
Élan sensed that Ina Trewe was genuine and good-hearted, but Luc put all of her senses on alert. Her past difficulties with manahi made it hard to ignore the unease that rattled through her. He reminded her too much of the ones who had trained her, fruitlessly, to exhaustion and despair, demanding that she keep trying their methods. As if mere repetition would have made the difference.
If Kassimeigh and Arc had not vouched for him, she surely wouldn’t have chosen to sit at a table with him. Her aversion simply ran too deep.
Luc responded to the lively conversation going on around him only with occasional harrumphs or thoughtful sounds. Élan wondered if he ever had much to say. Thoughts and judgments flickered behind his eyes like tiny strobe lights. She tried to pay him no more attention than anyone else at the table, but his presence lit up her mind like an emergency siren. She found it hard to ignore.
Élan joined him in relative silence. She spoke when a question was directed her way but otherwise left the narration to Arc and Kassimeigh. She needed time to process her current company, situation, and the realization that Arc was the nephew of the magistrate. She usually took great care in vetting people, and it vexed her a little that she’d been neglectful. She’d simply decided she could trust Arc, and hadn’t taken the time to look into his background. Her lack of thoroughness made her question herself.
She wondered why Kassimeigh had thought she would like this plan. So far, she really wasn’t a fan.
She’d just about made up her mind to leave when Kassimeigh finally made her intentions clear, outlining her plan to everyone at the table. Élan had to give credit where it was due. The proposal did intrigue her.
The magistrate tapped a finger on the table thoughtfully. “It’s an interesting idea, Kassimeigh. How long do you think Élan will need to stay in the forest?”
Kassimeigh finished a sip of water and set her glass smoothly on the table. “Depends on how long it takes to get results. With the scientists at the lab running tests and Élan taking care of that area, we’re bound to find answers. We’ve interrupted the process out there, backed up the damage. She runs it as an observatory until we get what we need. Based on her accounts, a couple of months would give us time to see if any new areas were being deforested, in spite of her efforts, or if we’ve changed everything.”
“And you think Élan will be able to keep the forest replenished on her own?”
“Yes, this particular portion of it, anyway. With an ongoing effort, she can heal the plants at the first sign of damage. If she needs help, of course I’ll do that. With my new mode of transportation, I could get out there quickly.”
“And what will you do in the meantime?”
“I’m going to survey the hinterlands. Map every area that has unusually strong mana. Then we can observe those coordinates by satellite. Consistent observation would allow us to compare and detect changes.” Kassimeigh tilted her head. “If I get that done and find myself with some time, I’ll go and join the construction team building the monorail to Apex. That’s a critical project that can’t be completed soon enough.”
The magistrate’s lips turned up in a knowing smile. “I agree with that. But I wonder if you’re taking too much on for yourself. This is supposed to be a time of self-discovery for you. Wasn’t that what the elders wanted for you?”
Kassimeigh’s brow fu
rrowed. “I can discover a lot more by doing than by lazing about at nothing. Now that the elders have cut me loose, I’m free to choose my own path. I choose usefulness.”
Even Luc joined the magistrate and Arc in smiling at what seemed to be a very Kassimeigh-like response. Élan didn’t know Kassimeigh that well yet, but she could entirely believe that the woman would have difficulty enduring long bouts of leisure.
“I remember you, from long ago.” Luc’s strident voice broke into her thoughts and she looked away from Kassimeigh to find him keenly studying her. Finally, he’d spoken up, but the rolling sensation in her stomach suggested she wouldn’t like what he had to say.
His gaze pinned her as if she were a scientific specimen. To him, she supposed, she probably was just that. From the knowing look in his light blue eyes, he could only mean her failed mana training.
“Then you have the advantage. I was very young when dozens of manahi tied me into knots, trying to make me something I wasn’t. I probably should recognize you, but you all looked alike to me.” Élan fought the urge to press her lips together in chagrin. Though she regretted the combative response, she wouldn’t let it show. She needed to keep her cool. Aware of Kassimeigh in her peripheral vision, she schooled her features into what she hoped was a similar appearance of serenity.
Luc inclined his head. “I did consult on your case, though I wasn’t one of your teachers.” Was that a twinkle in his eye or was the lighting in this restaurant a little uneven? “It’s interesting that you’ve cropped up again. And in such a useful way.” He stroked his chin, and his eyes cut briefly to Kassimeigh. “Actually, I’ve been sitting here thinking that it’s interesting that both of you were children that I worked with, and now you’ve found one another in adulthood to work mana together.”
Élan shifted her gaze to Kassimeigh, then returned it to Luc. “How did you work with Kassimeigh when she was a child? She told me she’d been blanketed.”
“Yes. I’m the one who blanketed her.”
