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Hyllis Family 06 - Sisters

Page 22

by Laurence Dahners


  Kazy stood up, “We still have a little time before we have to get ready for the lunch rush. Let’s go to the butcher’s and get a freshly killed chicken.”

  “Sounds kinda gross,” Rrica said, standing up as well. “I’d love to help but it’s my shift in the dining room.”

  “Don’t worry,” Kazy said with an evil grin, “we’ll bring it back so you can help us with the actual experiment.”

  ***

  Tarc walked into the fourth blacksmith shop he’d visited that day. The first one only had a handful of small items they thought might be titanium. Those were assorted small pins, bolts, nuts, and washers for the most part. The smith offered to melt them together for Tarc, but, looking at them Tarc didn’t think all of them together would make a large enough piece. The second smith hadn’t had any titanium and the third one didn’t even know what titanium was.

  Tarc was feeling frustrated.

  Once he got past an assistant and an apprentice to finally get the attention of the fourth smith, Tarc said, “I’m looking for titanium. Do you have any, or know where I might find some?”

  “Really?!” the man said, looking surprised and interested. “What do you need titanium for?”

  Encouraged that the man at least knew what the metal was and was interested in its use, Tarc nonetheless dithered on what to tell him. Finally, he settled on, “I work with a visiting healer. She uses it because it doesn’t rust and is well tolerated by the body.”

  “She’s going to stick titanium in someone?!” the man asked in astonishment.

  “Um, no,” Tarc said, thinking quickly. “She likes to have some of her… instruments made out of it.”

  “Oh… Titanium carbide?” the man asked.

  Not having any idea what titanium carbide was, Tarc shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

  “I hear carbide would hold an edge forever.” The smith said almost reverently. He lowered his voice and raised his eyebrows, “The ancients used to use it to cut steel.” He leaned back and shrugged, “But I don’t know anyone who’s got carbide. Or, for that matter, anyone who knows how to work it.” He shrugged as if Tarc would be disappointed with this next, “I do have some plain titanium. Well, it’s probably an alloy that’s mostly titanium. But it won’t hold an edge like carbide would.”

  Excitedly, Tarc said, “That should be fine. Pure titanium or alloys with aluminum and vanadium are supposed to be best.”

  The smith chewed his lip, “I don’t know what vanadium is. We get aluminum from the same place I get the titanium, but I wouldn’t know whether there’s any of it alloying the titanium.”

  Curious now, Tarc asked, “Where do you find the titanium?”

  The smith waved a hand for Tarc to follow, talking as he led. “Almost all of it comes from a big place where the ancients kept a bunch of their airplanes. You know, the machines that supposedly flew through the air? They say a lot of the parts in airplanes were made of aluminum or titanium because both of them are a lot lighter than steel.” The smith ushered Tarc into another room. It looked like a storeroom for strange metal objects.

  After digging around a little, the smith came out with a heavy-walled greyish tube about two centimeters in diameter and a meter long. He handed it to Tarc.

  Tarc felt surprised by how little it weighed. After inspecting it for a moment, he said, “And you’re sure this is titanium?”

  The smith shrugged. “Too light to be steel. Not shiny enough to be aluminum. Too strong to be zinc, lead, or tin. Wrong color to be silver, brass, bronze, copper, or gold. I suppose it might be some exotic metal, but a betting man would put his money on titanium. Oh, wait,” the man’s brow had risen. Speaking thoughtfully, he said, “I suppose it might be magnesium.” He turned to Tarc, “Magnesium burns. Want me to shave a few flakes off into the forge? See if they catch fire?”

  Tarc did. When the smith ground off some powder and tossed it into his furnace nothing happened.

  They haggled over price. Tarc left feeling like he’d paid too much. He hoped the smith felt like he hadn’t been paid enough.

  ~~~

  As Tarc wended his way back through Cooperstown to the Ruens’ house his path turned him onto a street with a row of taverns. Suddenly mindful of the rough clientele he expanded his ghirit behind him so no one…

  Someone was running up behind him!

  The guy was smaller than Tarc, dancing long strides from toe to toe as if making an effort to be noiseless.

  Tarc spun, reaching over his shoulder into the collar of his shirt…

  Lizeth!

  A huge smile on her face, Lizeth leaped up, throwing arms and legs around him. “I’ve missed you!” she exclaimed. Then burying her face into the side of his neck, she giggled and whispered, “Should’ve known I couldn’t sneak up on a witch.”

  She felt great, firm and muscular where Nylin was soft and cuddly. Tarc slowly bent and settled her back to the ground. “Hi, Lizeth. Norton’s caravan just come into town?”

  She nodded, eyeing him, “You’re not glad to see your girlfriend?”

  “You said a lot of hurtful things when you left. For instance, that you never wanted to see me again.”

  “Yeah.” She shrugged, “I was wrong. Turns out I do want to see you.” She tilted her head and grinned, “People make mistakes you know?” She stepped closer and snaked an arm around his waist.

  Tarc pulled back, though not far enough to completely free himself—for which he felt guilty. “I’ve… been going with Nylin since you left.”

  Lizeth shrugged, “Okay. I understand. She’s a nice girl. But,” Lizeth gave him a sly grin and a wink, “you know she can’t hold a candle to me, right?” Seeing the look on his face, she quickly said, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to make you miserable.” She nodded at the tavern they were beside, “Just let me buy you a beer.”

  Knowing he was going to feel bad about either answer he might give, Tarc hesitated, “I don’t know…”

  Lizeth snorted, “I’m not asking you to marry me. I just want to buy you a beer.”

  “Okay,” Tarc said resignedly.

  Lizeth took his elbow as they climbed the stairs to the tavern’s deck. “You were right, you know?”

  “About what?”

  “Me being a… you know.”

  Tarc gave her a little grin, “You being talented, you mean?”

  She gave him a big smile as she sat down, “Yeah, that’s what I meant. Talented.”

  Tarc leaned a little closer and spoke quietly, “I might be able to teach you some things you can do with your, talent.”

  Quizzically, “Really?”

  Tarc nodded, “Really. For instance, do you know—?”

  Lizeth interrupted with a snort, “Do not start your lessons in a tavern!” She looked up at the boy who’d come to take their order, “Two beers.” She looked back at Tarc, “So, what’re you doing in Cooperstown?”

  “Eva’s sister, my aunt, has cancer. We came to take care of her.”

  Lizeth grimaced. “Oh, that’s a bad way to go,” she said. Lizeth shook her head and changed subjects, “How’d you guys get here? Go back south? Some route up north?”

  “Um, no. We came over the road from Clancy Vail.”

  Lizeth looked startled, “Was there a big caravan coming this…” Her eyes widened in awe, “You killed ‘em all, didn’t you?”

  “Um, who?” Tarc ventured disingenuously.

  “Don’t give me that! All those murderous bandits that’ve been plaguing the Cooperstown Road! You took out all those Cooperstown Road sons of bitches just like you took out the Ragas!”

  “Actually I’ve heard that road’s a lot safer nowadays,” Tarc said brightly but noncommittally.

  Lizeth belly laughed at that comment. “I’ll bet it is. Even if no one knows it yet.” She gave him a curious look, “When are you going back to Clancy Vail? Or,” she looked suddenly uncomfortable, “are you staying here until… till your aunt…”

  She doesn’t thi
nk we have a chance of healing Aunt Marissa, Tarc realized. She hasn’t considered the possibility we’re using our talents for healing. He opened his mouth to explain, then thought better of it. “She’s decided to come back to Clancy Vail with us.” Having a sudden thought, he asked, “Is the Norton caravan going that way? It’d be nice if we could get her a ride in one of the wagons with springs.”

  Lizeth shrugged, “Norton’s having hissy fits about whether the Cooperstown Road’s too dangerous. Last I heard he hadn’t decided whether to go another way, hire some extra guards, or wait a while, hoping to join up with another caravan.”

  Tarc frowned, “You think you could convince him the road’s gotten safer?”

  “No,” Lizeth said dismissively, as if even getting him to listen would be impossible. She arched an eyebrow, “But, it might help if he knew you and your dad would be along to act as archers.”

  Tarc winced, “I’d be available, but my dad’s still in Clancy Vail.”

  “Holy crap!” Lizeth said, round-eyed. “You guys made the trip without your dad?”

  Tarc nodded. “When would the caravan go if it did go that way?”

  Lizeth shrugged, “Surprisingly enough Norton still doesn’t ask me to make up his schedule. Or even tell me when or where we’re going. Probably 3 to 5 days depending on how good business is and how long it takes him to get up his gumption.”

  Tarc chewed his lip, “I’m not sure my aunt’ll be ready to travel by then.”

  Lizeth finished her beer. “Drink up. Then you can show me where your aunt lives so I’ll be able to contact you.”

  Tarc took another swallow but left about a third of his beer behind.

  ~~~

  When Lizeth left Marissa’s house, Daussie turned angrily to Tarc, “Are you dumping Nylin?!”

  Admiring Lizeth’s confident stride as she walked away, Tarc was caught off guard by the question. Ashamed, he turned to Daussie already protesting, “No! Of course not. Just because…” He hesitated, realizing that most of the things he’d been thinking he might say after “just because” would probably outrage Daussie even more.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Daussie said, snatching the titanium tube out of Tarc’s hands. “Just because Nylin’s sweet and caring. Just because she stuck with us. Just because she’s not a lethal killer. Just because she doesn’t strut around all dressed in leather, carrying a…” Daussie’s voice faded out as she stepped into Marissa’s room and closed the door behind her

  ~~~

  Marissa gazed bemusedly down at her niece’s head where it rested on her stomach. The past few hours had been quite confusing.

  First, Daussie’d come into her room with a piece of grey pipe. Telling Marissa that they were hoping it could replace part of her corrupted spine, Daussie’d laid the tube longitudinally on Marissa’s stomach, then studied it for a few moments, tilting her head this way and that. Next, she’d put her head right down against the pipe as it lay on Marissa's stomach.

  She held her head there for a few seconds. Then she got up and left the room, saying she needed Eva to look at it as well.

  Daussie returned with both Eva and Hareh. They all leaned close for a bit. There followed some discussion of the collapse and shortening of Marissa’s L2 vertebra with all of them thinking that leaving it collapsed would leave Marissa somewhat bent over. Eventually, Eva rolled up a pillow and stuffed it in under Marissa’s lower back, painfully arching her spine. When Marissa had protested the pain, Eva’d chided Marissa about how she didn’t want to be hunched over for the rest of her life, but as she’d chided, she’d leaned her head down next to Marissa’s and the pain had suddenly faded into the distance.

  Daussie had had her head down next to Marissa’s abdomen when the pain went away. She said, “Oh, you relieved her pain, right?”

  Eva nodded.

  Daussie said, “Her muscles relaxed. Her back’s stretched out into a more normal position.”

  Then all three of them took turns putting their heads down against Marissa's stomach and the grey tube, talking about how big the tube was and how much of Marissa’s spine needed to be bridged.

  “What’re you thinking of doing?” Marissa’d asked apprehensively.

  Eva’d patted her on the shoulder, “Just trying to decide exactly how long the pipe needs to be to fit the position of your bones.”

  Finally, Daussie held up the pipe, marking a spot about five centimeters from one end with her thumbs. Turning to Eva, she’d said, “Here?”

  Eva’d nodded, Daussie’d focused on the pipe for a moment and suddenly the pipe fell into two pieces. They’d set the biggest piece of the pipe to the side of the bed, all of them focusing on the five-centimeter piece that was left. After placing the smaller segment on Marissa’s abdomen they’d resumed bending over her, now discussing how exactly the piece would fit into her bone.

  While they were doing that, Marissa managed to slide her hand over and feel the discarded piece of the pipe lying on the bed beside her. It felt like steel! Though, when she lifted it, it seemed too light. For a moment she wondered how Daussie had cut it. She thought it must’ve been similar to what the girl had done to the potato. But how could she have cut something like steel? Marissa wondered.

  Next Daussie held the short piece of pipe up next to her head. Little discs of metal started falling out of it. When Marissa got her next look at the pipe there were several holes punched through the ends of it. She’d asked Eva why they were making holes in the pipe.

  Eva’d said. “Daussie’s going to port it into your spine so healthy bone in the vertebrae above and below your sick L2 vertebra will be interlocked through the holes in the pipe. That’ll solidly fix it into place.”

  Marissa’d nodded as if she understood, but she didn’t. Even if the girl can move that piece of metal into my bones, how can she possibly do it so my bone fits through the holes?

  Daussie and Hareh took turns holding the pipe up to their heads while tiny flakes of metal fell away from it. When Marissa’d asked Eva what they were doing then, she’d said they were making the surface rough by removing particles. “Bone likes to attach itself to rough titanium surfaces.”

  Just one more thing I didn’t understand, Marissa thought.

  After all that, they’d wrapped up the short length of pipe in some cloth, put it in the large pot they called a “pressure cooker” and Daussie’d taken it off to the kitchen “for sterilization.” Hareh’d gone with her. For a few moments, Marissa had hoped that Eva would leave as well so Marissa could roll off the uncomfortable pillow that was arching her back. Eva’d murmured, “We don’t want that,” then she’d leaned closer, saying, “let me help you feel better.”

  Like a little wave of peace, the pain from having her back stretched over the pillow faded away. She and her sister had chatted and reminisced for a while, then Daussie came back in, laid the little bundle of cloth the pipe was in against Marissa’s stomach, then bent her head down next to it.

  Suddenly worried, Marissa looked up at her sister. “Is she about to move that thing into my spine?”

  “Yeah,” Eva said leaning close, “but don’t worry, you’re gonna be asleep.”

  ~~~

  Marissa blinked her eyes open, wondering if she’d actually been asleep. Her spine felt different. Sore and uncomfortable but somehow… stable. As if it wouldn’t hurt so badly when she moved. Eva was bending over her. Marissa asked, “Is it in me?”

  Eva nodded. “You feel like sitting up?”

  Marissa shivered with revulsion at the thought of having a chunk of pipe inside of her, then focused on Eva’s question. Suddenly apprehensive, she asked, “Will it be okay?”

  Distressingly, Eva shrugged. She said, “I think so. Tarc tugged on it with his telekinesis and it seems to be securely fixed in place, but the amount of force he can put on isn’t very great compared to your body’s weight. The only way to find out whether it’ll tolerate you getting up is to have you try it, though I’d suggest you do it slowly. That
way, if something seems like it’s going wrong, I can tell you to stop.”

  Slowly, Marissa tensed her abdominal muscles toward doing a sit-up. Her discomfort got a little worse, but wasn’t as bad as it’d been if she even wiggled before… Before they did whatever they did, she thought. Looking up into Eva’s eyes, she said, “Is it okay?”

  Despite the look of intense concentration on Eva’s face, she nodded.

  Marissa put her hands back so she could use them to help push herself up. Her trunk tilted upright. Still just mild discomfort! she thought.

  Eva said, “It’s doing fine. I’m going to help you swing your legs over the edge of the bed so you can sit, okay?”

  Marissa nodded. Over the next few seconds, Eva slowly got her sitting up with her legs dangling off the edge of the bed.

  Tarc and Daussie came in the room. Eva said, “You guys are just in time. If you’ll each take an arm, we’ll try having Marissa stand.”

  Marissa thought, Already?! Then she remembered how desperately she’d been wanting to be out of the bed. “I’m ready,” she said with resolve. With her niece and nephews help, she slowly stood.

  “How’re you feeling?” Eva asked.

  Marissa blinked, “Good! Well, dizzy. But…” she hesitated, “I’ve gotta go to the bathroom! Can I go?”

  Eva snorted, “Sure, but let’s just take you to the chamber pot. I don’t want to walk you all the way to the outhouse yet.”

  ***

  Marissa was all alone in the house when a knock came on the door. Wouldn’t you know it, she thought, my first few moments to myself and someone decides to come to visit.

  She was slow getting to the door and whoever was out there was impatient. They knocked again, harder, then one more time quite loudly. When Marissa opened the door a young woman was already striding away. “Hello?” Marissa called after the slender woman.

  The woman turned. She was bronze-skinned, muscular, dressed entirely in leather and carrying a sword. Pretty in a way but… fierce-looking. What’s she playing at? Marissa wondered.

  “Are you Marissa Ruen?” the young woman asked.

 

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