IV
They were guided down a short hall to a room that erred on the side of austerity. Shan would have preferred a more parlorlike setting, if only to soothe Padi’s sensibilities, but a glance at her face gave him to understand that she had expected an examination room, and found this austere little area worthy of an appreciative lift of eyebrows.
Shan sighed. Padi, he recalled, had never before been in a Healer Hall. She had not expected a consultation parlor holding comfortable chairs and small comforts, or anything other than a room set up to host the business negotiations of traders.
The Healers of Millsap had met those very modest expectations, and Shan supposed he ought to be grateful.
“Master Healer Ferin, Healer Osit, here is Healer Lina Faaldom of the Dutiful Passage, with her clients, Healer Shan yos’Galan, and Emergent Padi yos’Galan.”
Master Healer Ferin was female and grey-haired; her eyes were stern blue. Healer Osit was some years younger than Shan, male, and possessed of a pair of merry brown eyes. Both rose and bowed welcome. Shan bowed, and Lina did, and Padi. Healer Ferin dismissed their escort.
“Please, sit,” she said coolly, “and let us become acquainted with your situations.”
There was a small but important concession to the traditional comfort of the consultation parlor—a tea service sat in the center of the table. Healer Osit poured for them all—Healer Ferin’s cup first, his own, then Lina’s, Shan’s, and Padi’s. Apparently, the Healers of Millsapport did not honor those in need as guests of the House, but as petitioners for favor.
That, Shan thought, was interesting.
He accepted his cup with a small bow of the head. A moment later, Padi accepted hers with a murmured word of thanks.
Comfort dispensed, Healer Osit sat down. Healer Ferin raised her cup to sip, all doing the same. Teacups returned to the tabletop, and the elder Healer looked to Lina.
“We understand from your correspondence that you bring us two clients for assessment, with a request that we consult with you in their proper treatment.”
She moved a hand, indicating Shan and Padi without actually looking at them.
“Is there a reason, Healer, that you chose not to shield the Emergent?”
“There is,” Lina said composedly. “She resisted the arrival of her gift to the point of building a wall to separate herself from its fullness. I hesitate to subject her to another walling away until she is Sorted.”
“One doubts that there can be a Sorting,” Healer Ferin said. “She is altogether too chaotic. For the sake of those who are less overbearing, but more orderly of mind, she should be shielded.”
Shan felt Padi shift beside him, and dared a look at the side of her face, which was entirely without expression.
Oh, dear, he thought.
“If I am discommoding the Healers,” she said, stringently calm, “I will happily remove myself from the meeting, and wait with our oathsworn in the garden.”
“If that is the best you are able to do, in respect of your elders,” Healer Ferin began—and Healer Osit spoke quickly.
“If I might make the attempt, Master Healer? She is very bright and—disparate—but I believe I discern a line which may be worked upon. I will attempt to demonstrate a simple shield, which she may be able to reproduce. It will naturally fall to Healer Faaldom to instruct her in best practice.”
“Very well,” Healer Ferin said, sharply dismissive of both Padi and her colleague. “Take her down the hall. If I am to examine this wounded Healer with any amount of understanding, I must have my Sight clear.”
“Yes.” Healer Osit stood. “Emergent yos’Galan. Pray attend me. We may at the very least show you how to properly care for your colleagues.”
Padi looked to Lina.
Lina, who had access to all of her talent, and presumably had taken the full measure of these, their colleagues, nodded at Padi.
“We had discussed how bright you seem to me, when I look at you with my Eyes wide open. Healer Ferin must make a detailed examination of Healer yos’Galan, which will require her to be most fully open.”
“And I will distract her, if I remain,” Padi finished, low-voiced. “I understand. I in no way wish to impede the Healer’s examination.” She rose and inclined her head. “Master Osit, I am at your command.”
Shan let his breath out, and extended a hand to touch hers reassuringly, he hoped. She looked into his eyes and smiled slightly, then moved away from the table to follow the Healer from the room.
* * *
The door closed. Healer Ferin sighed.
“Now,” she said, “let us consider what we have here, Healer yos’Galan. I See that you have forensic shielding in place. That is very wise. However, in order to observe the damage you have taken, and form a diagnosis, I must be allowed inside your shields.
“Open to me, if you please.”
Ice ran Shan’s veins; his breath stopped in his chest, while his heart slammed into overdrive.
Open to me!
The sound of Tarona Rusk’s voice in Command mode, the lash of her will, slicing open his forearm.
“What have we here?” He heard the question at a distance, beyond the pounding of his heart. “Panic? Healer Faaldom, is this a usual response?”
“It is atypical.” Lina’s voice was clear, calm. “I believe it may be associated with his other wounds. There was an attempt at forceful entry, using physical torture as an incentive.”
“You have examined him since this episode?”
“I have, but we are long known to each other. You, on the other hand—”
“Yes, I see. Another stranger demanding entry—the horror surfaces once more.”
Shan’s breath broke free in a gasp that was nearly a sob. Instinctively, he reached for Healspace—and found that he was…not blocked. Not quite blocked. But met.
And held.
Warmth flowed between that soft connection; warmth, and an offer of assistance.
“I think you know, Healer,” the voice that was not Lina’s said, “that to attempt Healspace at this moment is likely not in your best interest. We have here myself, Ferin, a master in our craft. I have pledged my assistance to your colleague, whom you trust; so much I may See, though you hold your shields close. I also See that you are exhausted in spirit, which is in turn trying you physically. If you will open your shields, I may learn what you have endured, and how we might ease you.”
“Shan,” Lina said, from quite nearby. “I am here; I am watching. This our colleague is none such as she who harmed you.”
No, of course, she wasn’t. They had spoken about this at length, he and Priscilla, and Lina. The spike of terror had surprised him as much as it had surprised the others. Having such horror hidden even from himself—it would not do, if he intended to resume as a Healer, once his strength was returned. No. He had worked with past-trauma victims, who had no idea that panic still lived in their souls. Left unHealed, such lurking horror had the power to warp a soul, bend honor, break kindness…
He breathed in, carefully, accepting the warmth offered by Healer Ferin, using it to calm the last of the panic. He considered the labor of his lungs, the beat of his heart…and finding all within normal ranges, he formed the thought and deliberately opened his shields.
There was a long, long moment of profound silence. With his shields down, Shan could see the other Healer’s dismay, taste her shock.
“Healer yos’Galan,” said Healer Ferin at last, her voice rough. “You have endured much. Primary linkages were cut—cut much too close to the fabric of your soul! I see rebound lacerations, bruising, and…the scorch marks of another will…”
She sat back, and Shan tasted her disgust.
“Healer yos’Galan, I must know: What did you do, to deserve this—this carnage?”
He took a hard breath, forcing himself to answer evenly.
“I Healed a dramliza of considerable power of the damage which had perverted her gift and made her the willing puppet of evil.”
“She fought your intervention.”
“She did, yes. As I had fought against her attempted rape.” He sighed, suddenly weary. “I tricked her. But I Healed her. And when I was done, I was spent unto death. In her turn, she Healed me, thus proving my treatment effective.”
Another silence, then Healer Ferin’s voice again, controlled and tasting of steel.
“That the severed links have reestablished themselves is well. The lacerations have been slower to heal, and the bruising is still livid—indicative, perhaps, of your general state of low energy. I may do something for you there, Healer, if you permit.”
She looked to Lina.
“Unless there is a reason that Healer Faaldom does not wish them Healed?”
“Truth told, Healer, I was not certain that I might not exacerbate the situation. Healer yos’Galan and I are entangled on many levels. This is why I wished the assessment of another Healer.”
“Prudent,” murmured Healer Ferin. “Of course, you would wish to be certain that you did no harm.”
“Do you,” Lina said, “feel that these may be addressed, without risk?”
Healer Ferin pursed her lips.
“I think,” she said slowly, “that they may be addressed with minimal risk. Healer yos’Galan is perhaps not as robust as you would like, but there is a strong possibility that these minor wounds are leaching energy needed for a full recovery.”
“Shan?” Lina said. “What would you?”
“I am willing to accept a Healing of those injuries which Healer Ferin mentions as obstacles to my return to full function.”
“Understand me,” Healer Ferin said, her disgust of him entirely obvious. “You still look to a long convalescence before your full Sight is returned.”
“I understand,” he assured her.
There was a small silence while the Healer collected herself, and managed to ask her next, necessary question.
“May I give you relief, Healer yos’Galan?” she said, coldly formal.
It would have been prudent to agree, but he shivered, the toothy beginnings of panic clawing at his throat…
“Softly,” murmured Lina, and he felt her hand on his, warm and pressing gently.
“I will not insist,” Healer Ferin said, her tone austere. “There are two Healers present, after all. Perhaps, Healer Faaldom, he will allow your touch.”
“Shan?” she murmured.
Gritting his teeth, he managed to step aside from the panic, and looked into Lina’s eyes.
“Of your goodness, old friend.”
There was a swirl, as of mist; the merest glimpse of Healspace. He breathed in, tasting cedar and vanilla, felt a brief bright pain—and the welcome chill of relief.
The room solidified around him, and Healer Ferin, too, her eyes hard.
“It is done,” said Lina.
“And done well,” Healer Ferin said, sounding neither pleased nor impressed.
“Healer yos’Galan, may I continue my inspection?”
He took a breath and met her hard gaze with what frankness he could muster.
“Of your goodness, Healer. Allow me to express my gratitude for your keen Sight and your patience.”
That failed to win her, though it did demonstrate that he had some passing acquaintance with proper behavior. She inclined her head and said coldly, “We continue.”
Shan relaxed, deliberately, and turned his eyes aside, looking over the Healer’s shoulders and focusing on the artwork framed on the wall behind her.
The painting was well-suited for his purpose, so well-suited that it must have been placed there precisely to distract those under examination. Yet the Healer had not directed his attention to it.
Possibly, she had been put off her stride; she had complained of being half-blinded by the rather extravagant display that was Padi. She might simply have for—
“Ah!”
An electric thrill focused his attention inward to a new scar, the area around it showing classic signs of emotional bruising.
“What is this?” demanded Healer Ferin. “A link forcefully removed?”
She was pressing on the bruise. He had no idea if she was doing it deliberately, to focus his attention, or if her own astonishment had again rendered her forgetful.
Shan took a breath, and brushed her will with his, moving her off of the bruised area.
“What!” she cried, and Shan met her eyes.
“You were hurting me,” he said coolly, even as Lina began to speak.
“The arrival of Emergent yos’Galan’s talent coincided with the event during which Healer yos’Galan was damaged. The first thing that met the Emergent’s full Sight was her father, depleted and bleeding energy. She instinctively reached out and created a conduit so that she might transfer some of her plentiful energies to him, for support and healing.”
Healer Ferin’s shock and outrage sizzled across abused nerves. Shan thrust her back and slammed his shields shut. Beside him, Lina gasped, and he felt a spike of guilt that he had hurt her.
Healer Ferin, however, seemed not to have felt the pain of his rejection, so exalted was her outrage.
“She only reached out and smashed a hole in the wall of someone’s psyche—without asking permission, I apprehend!—and forced herself onto a wounded person? Has no one taught this girl anything? She might have done irreparable damage! She might have killed this Healer—her own father! In such a diminished state, without protection—”
“I hardly needed protection from my own daughter,” Shan snapped. “She acted from the heart; there was no ill intent, nor—”
Someone screamed.