III
Padi kept her attention on the window as the omnibus made its awkward way down the track and the boring port moved past.
Really, she thought, how could they put up with all this…greyness? Would it have done any harm to have painted the occasional building red, or even pale blue?
She bit her lip. Ordinarily, she liked to explore ports, though she preferred walking to port transport. Ordinarily, she would have dismissed the grey-on-grey color scheme as local custom, but today…
Today, she wished she were back on the Passage, even if the only thing she had to occupy herself with were exercises to help her become better acquainted with her gift.
She was not at all certain that she wanted strange Healers…looking at her. She had expressed this to Lina, who had agreed that it was very natural to feel uneasy. She had also said that no one would hurt her, and if someone did hurt her, she was to say so, immediately, for nothing the Healers would be doing during their examinations ought to be in the least uncomfortable.
Which did not…precisely…address Padi’s unease. One could not See oneself—not in that way. At least, she hadn’t yet discovered in her private explorations any sort of interior mirror where she might regard this…brightness that was her talent.
She had received the impression, however, that it was not…quite…pleasing. That it was too bright—that had been said, though followed with a hasty reassurance that new talent often arrived in a burst of energy that might dazzle Healer eyes.
Unfortunately, she had begun to receive the impression that her brightness ought to have started to subside by now—and that this was not the case.
Aside all that, she had glimpsed in Lina’s reticence to answer certain questions regarding Padi’s specific gift, that it had become…misshapen, perhaps, as a result of her mistaken attempt to keep it locked away.
So, she wished—she very much wished—that she might dispense with the Healers altogether. Father, of course, must have an examination to be certain, among other things, that his heir had not hurt him in what she now knew to have been a foolhardy attempt to help him.
“I believe I see our stop,” Father said.
Padi blinked out of her thoughts, and leaned closer to the window.
This section of the port boasted perhaps half-a-dozen dormitories, grab-a-bites, bars, restaurants, what might have been a house of pleasure, and another half-dozen general supply houses. And here, Padi saw, someone among the shopkeepers or the hosts had heard of paint, though they might have done well to coordinate the colors. Still, that was a small thing, and after the tedium of the journey through the warehousing and office districts, to come upon this small area was rather like stumbling into a meadow of wildflowers after wandering the desert.
The Healer Hall—she saw it immediately, situated on the corner of a small street between the hospitality and retail areas, as if no one could quite decide on its function. It was a modest ’crete square surrounded by a fence. Both the building and the fence were painted a soft, pleasing shade of pink, and the front yard, which at ho— on Liad would have been a modest garden, was here artfully decorated with bright mosaic sculptures, many with wind-catchers at the apex.
The wind-catchers, Padi thought, might have been an exercise in wishcraft, which might or not be an actual dramliz craft. It was sometimes difficult for her to know when Priscilla was having a joke.
In any case, the wind-catchers were catching no wind today, their blades as still as the petals of the flowers they were perhaps meant to counterfeit.
The omnibus groaned to a halt. Two seats ahead, Third Mate Dil Nem Tiazan, who made one of their security pair today, rose and moved toward the hatch.
Lina followed him, Padi following her, then Father, and Karna Tivit, the second of their security pair, bringing up the rear.
Karna’s feet had scarcely touched the pavement when the door shut, and the omnibus rolled off, groaning loudly. The five of them stood for a moment, orienting themselves to the bright, windless day, before confronting the glittering front garden.
“Well,” Lina said briskly after a long moment had passed and no one of them had made a move toward the gate. “We are well arrived. Let us allow the Hall to know that we are here.”
* * *
The door was opened by a plump boy with curly yellow hair and soft grey eyes. He was dressed in an emerald green tunic and bright red pants, which was, Padi thought, certainly understandable, given the larger port environment, but perhaps a trifle too bold in terms of the House he served.
“Good day to you,” Lina said, from her position at the front of their group—the order being Lina at center, Father a step behind and to her right; Padi to his left, looking over Lina’s shoulder.
“I am Lina Faaldom, Healer on Dutiful Passage, come with my clients to confer with the elders.”
The boy…said nothing. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were looking into a very bright light.
“I had sent a message ahead,” Lina said, and Padi had the impression that she had subtly done…something, which had the happy effect of bringing the doorkeeper’s attention back to her.
“Yes, Healer!” he said, suddenly brisk. “We have been looking for you, and for your clients. May the House know the identity of these two persons below you?”
That was not as rude as it sounded. Dil Nem and Karna were standing on the path at the bottom of the short stairs so as not to crowd the door, while at the same time bearing witness to all that was said and done.
“Those are our security team,” Lina said calmly.
The doorkeeper frowned somewhat.
“Those who do not seek Healing are not admitted to the House,” he said.
Which, Padi thought, was rude.
Father shifted slightly, drawing the boy’s eyes to him.
“At Solcintra Hall, where Healer Faaldom and I trained, kin, colleagues, and comrades of those come to seek Healing were allowed to wait in the inner garden, where they did not disturb the House.”
He paused. The boy inclined his head.
“Sir,” he said hastily. “I—of course, your oathsworn may enjoy the comfort of our garden. It is the House from which…the work…”
“I understand entirely,” Father assured him gently, and added. “At Solcintra Hall, light refreshment is provided to those who wait. If that is not the custom here, perhaps you will advise us on the proper way to have a tray sent over from one of the restaurants nearby?”
The boy…blinked.
“Sir,” he said, after a moment. “I am at a loss. The seniors await, and we ought not tarry longer. If you will permit, I will call my second to show your oathsworn to the garden, while I guide you to my elders. Once that is done, I will find from the Hall manager what the custom is in the matter of guests in the garden, and I myself will see that everything proper is done.”
Father inclined his head, and produced a quarter-cantra, which he held out to the doorkeeper.
“If it should be that the Hall’s custom does not permit of light refreshment, please do send for a tray from the restaurant you favor most, of those just there.”
He used his chin to point down the street.
The boy hesitated a moment before he took the coin with a small bow.
“A moment, Gentles, if you please,” he murmured, and stepped back from the door. Padi heard him speak, very briefly—the name of his second, perhaps, for a shadow moved in the hallway, and a girl some years younger than the doorkeeper, also yellow-haired and wearing pale blue tunic and pants, came forward to bow.
Father stepped closer to Padi and the girl padded lightly past them, down the stairs to where Dil Nem and Karna waited. Padi turned her head slightly and saw the girl bow again, everything that was polite, from a younger to elders.
Her voice was soft and pretty, somehow seeming to match the light blue of her garments.
“I am Yissi, an apprentice in the House. I will be pleased to take you to the garden, Gentles. It is a very nice garden, quite the best on Millsapport. Everyone says so.”
It was not, Padi thought, a very high bar, but she hoped their security would be tolerably comfortable.
“Thank you, young Healer,” Dil Nem said in his punctilious way. “My comrade and I will be very pleased to enjoy the comforts of the garden.”
“Please,” she said, “follow me.”
She stepped ’round them, toward the side of the house, Karna following. Dil Nem paused a moment to look up the stairs, catching Father’s eye.
“Sir?” he murmured.
“As ever, Dil Nem,” Father murmured, and Padi saw the dour Third Mate smile slightly before he turned to follow the others.
“If the Healer and her clients will follow me, please,” the doorkeeper said. “The elders are waiting.”