Schism: The Battle for Darracia (Book 1) (11 page)

Tulani watched Bobbien lay the prince on the bed and fell to her knees beside them.

“Get some water.” Bobbien gestured to a cistern with running water on the back wall. “Now, Tulani!”

Tulani jerked as if she had been shot
then picked up a bucket to get the water. When she returned, her grandmother had stripped the prince and wrapped him with rough fiber blankets. She stood behind her grandmother and saw where the wysbie had stung her shoulder. A large red welt covered most of it, the poison dotting the surface in small bubbles of liquid. “Now light the fire and boil some of this.” She handed her a heavy pouch filled with dried red leaves.

“
The wysbies did not get V’sair?” Tulani asked.

“Darracian
blood they do not find tasty. Perhaps they find them as sour as we do.”

Tulani absently rubbed her arms
, and Bobbien took out a brown cloth. Small blisters started to appear on the girl’s smooth red flesh. “When you have put up the tea, wash your skin with this rag. It will help.”

“Should I brew all of this
?” Tulani asked, holding up the pouch.

Bobbien cocked her head
. “Yes, I think so. He is bleeding much.”

Tulani busied herself steeping the
tea, and when the smell of the wet leaves filled the air, she knew at once that they were from the hallis tree; it was caylet tea, a healing beverage. She held her tongue but stole glances at her grandmother, who was working on V’sair.

She
wiped her stings with the brown cloth and was amazed at the instant relief. It was damp and smelled of the deep-red hallis leaves.

“
What is this stuff?” she asked the old woman.

“
A bit of magic. Wipe my back, please, child. The stings, they do burn.” She winced.

Tulani vigorously wiped
Bobbien’s humped back while skeptically asking, “Magic?”

“
What? I am a high priestess, am I not?”

“
Will he live?” the girl asked tentatively.

The old Quyroo shrugged.

Bobbien stood up at last, stretching her back. “I am too old for this,” she said with a hearty sigh. “The time is for a young’un to do this.” She shot her granddaughter a meaningful glance. “Mind the tea, child. If you overcook the leaves, I will have to get more, and we don’t have time to cure them.”

Tulani dipped her finger in
to the liquid and tasted the bitterness of the brew, knowing it would be done shortly. “Do you expect a fever?”

“He has lost much blood
. There will be a fever for sure.” She nodded sagely. “Nasty is the wound in his shoulder, but I have something special for that. So, Tulani,” she said with a smile, “you probably are dying to know where we are, I am thinking.”

Tulani poured the tea into a large cup and brought the steaming liquid to her grandmother
, who took a healthy gulp.

“
I thought that was for the prince!”

“
An old body it can’t hurt! He’ll be fine, I be thinking.” She handed her the cup. “All right, all right, feed your prince the rest! In a few minutes, he’ll be needing more.”

Bobbien
plucked an uncured randam crystal from her pouch, blew on it, and held it up to the light. “It is a darker one that is needed, but magic, I know, will do the trick.”

“
More magic?” Tulani raised a delicate brow.

The old woman
laughed. “You have much to learn, cloud child.” She licked the crystal.

“
What are you doing. That is poison!” Tulani tried to knock it out of her hand.

“
Oh, child, you have much to relearn. Think back, Tulani. The crystals get their power from the women of the Nost.” She pursed her lips and blew on the damp crystal again. Tulani saw that it brightened. “Do it girl. Try…”

She held out the rock in her grubby hand and dropped it into Tulani
’s curled palm.

“
Spit, yes, but not much. Just to dampen it.” Tulani followed her grandmother’s directions feeling foolish. “Gently blow on the crystal,” she told her. Tulani put her lips close and felt her lips start to tingle. She blew softly, and Bobbien said, “Do not be afraid.”

She gasped then let out a quick breath.

“Rushy, rushy! Why the rush? Do it slow, like a lover’s kiss.”

Tulani blushed red but let the air whistle softly through her lips, amazed when it grew bright and hot in her palm.

“Quickly, child. Do not burn yourself. Place it in the wound on his shoulder.”

The crystal
singed her fingers, but she gingerly tapped it into the gaping hole left by Pacuto’s Fireblade and stood back. V’sair arched his back as he cried out, his face wincing with pain. Tears gathered in Tulani’s eyes. “It hurts him, Greanam. It burns.”

“
And so it must to do its work. Healing, you are, my girl. Healing as we are supposed to do. How does it feel to you?” Bobbien poked her granddaughter’s arm.

“
I…I don’t know.” Tulani thought about it for a minute. Her own shoulder tingled, as though ice had dripped on it. She touched it with wonder.

“
Yes, yes, you feel it! I knew you to be a healer, Tulani!” her grandmother exclaimed proudly. “Watchy, watchy! Watch what we do.” They bent forward to see the crystal sizzle in the wound and the flesh turn white as V’sair gasped, reaching for it. “Hold his hand, Tulani. He must not ruin it.”

Tulani took V
’sair’s hand in hers and kissed his knuckles. “Be still, my love,” she whispered. He pulled out of her grasp, his hand gripping the edge of the cot, his knuckles turning white.

Smoke filled the air
, and she watched, terrified, as the crystal bubbled as if boiling. V’sair moaned deeply, reaching up with his other hand to grab his shoulder. Tulani took his free hand and clasped it, tears brimming in her eyes. The flesh of V’sair’s shoulder softened, and the bleeding stopped. She bent forward, her eyes wide as new skin formed. Soft as a baby, a pinkish blue, it pulsed with a slow throb and began to heal over the gaping hole in his shoulder.

“He
will heal quickly now.” Bobbien nodded, satisfied. “The crystals are our secret.”

“
Secret?”

“
Yes, Tulani. When the time is right, we will let these barbarians know the power of the Quyroos and the randam crystals. They think they know everything. Ha! They will realize the value of allies rather than slaves. They think we Quyroos are only good for fuel. The women of Nost know better.”

Tulani bent over
and gently brushed V’sair’s white, sweat-drenched hair from his forehead. She pulled the blanket over his bare chest.

“
So, Tulani, I’m thinking you be wondering where we be,” she said with a laugh.

“
Yes, Greanam. I have a feeling we are in the volcano. But how could we be in a room in the middle of the volcano?”

The room went pitch black
, and Tulani bit back a scream. Her grandmother laughed deeply from her belly and started to recite the prayer of the Sradda Doctrine,

“Ozre
, Ozre, light the path…” The room vibrated, and for a moment, Tulani felt as though the floor had slanted. She got down on all fours, her long braids pooling around her. Multicolored lights filled the room, and her grandmother’s prayers grew louder and louder to match the hum of a thousand insects.
Could the wysbies be inside the volcano?
Tulani thought wildly, as she threw her body over V’sair to protect him.

“
Stop!” she shouted, but her voice was merely an echo in her head. She stole a peek at V’sair, who lay in bed, oblivious to the explosion of lights and sounds around them. Suddenly the noise quieted, and the room was bathed in a red glow. A deep voice filled the room, its sound vibrating through Tulani’s body.

“Ozre
hears the call of prayer; Ozre answers the call of prayer,” a very male voice echoed throughout the cave. Tulani watched her grandmother kneel, her arms outstretched, her eyes closed, her face turned up to the ceiling in submission.

“
Great Ozre, we need your help.” Bobbien threw herself to the floor and lay prostrate. “Heal the boy; heal the hearts; finish the quest for peace, he must.”

There was a long pause
; Tulani watched the red light bathe her grandmother. Then she felt it envelop her own body, invade her. Slowly, compelled, she slid to the floor, then lay her head on the cold ground and outstretched her hands in submission. “Oh, great Ozre,” Tulani whispered, tears streaming from her eyes, “Great Sradda, giver of life and love, I commend myself to thee. Heal V’sair…”

The Elements are real
, was her last rational thought before she lost track of awareness and time itself.

Chapter 16

Pacuto and Winata rolled in the sky as shock wave after shock wave pulsed through them. He knew he had lost Hother; her tether had broken with the impact of the explosion. He had seen the old witch throwing zandy grenades but hadn’t felt their impact. The next time he came to the Desa, he would put her head on a stick, but for now he wanted only to return to Syos and claim his place next to his father.

Flanked by his guards, Pacuto noticed that t
he sky was strangely empty of patrols; in fact he saw no traffic whatsoever. He pulled out his nevi, but the signal was dead. All communications were out.

He approached the castle entrance, but it
was deserted.

Suddenly a
large battleship hovered in the distance.
Friend or foe?
he wondered. He could not make out the name stenciled on the side. Only time would tell.

He took in the blown landing bays, wondering how he
and his men would get inside. Light poured out from the huge wall of windows. He guided Winata onto a deserted balcony and gave over the reins to his squire.

“Go to the house of Nuen
. Wait until you hear from me.”

“
Please let me come with you,” Grodot pleaded. He had yet to bloody his Fireblade.

“
No!” Pacuto shouted as he held out his hand for the younger soldier’s Fireblade. Grodot handed it over with a decided lack of grace that earned him a slap with the flat side of the blade. “If anything happens to Winata, your head will be on yonder pike.” He pointed to a row of columns at the north face of the tower. Go.” Pacuto struck the black back of the animal and watched them ride home.

Chapter 17
 

Zayden and
Hilde’s shoulders hugged the walls of the parapets outside the queen’s quarters.

“
I feel like a coward,” he said.

“
Your death will not help the king,” Hilde told him. “You must get assistance.”

He stopped and turned to face her, the question too
difficult to even consider. He wondered whether she knew of her father’s plans. Everyone was gone, although here and there they came along a dead guard. Hilde’s sad eyes took in their blood-drenched bodies.

“
This was well planned. He couldn’t have done it without help.”

Hilde
bit her lip, uncertainty written all over her face. She didn’t want Zayden to hate her, but she felt compelled to help. “Four of the seven generals are involved.”

“
You knew about this?” he demanded.

Hilde looked down without meeting his eyes. “I don’t understand politics. I didn’t believe my parents…”

Zayden grabbed her shoulders. “Tell me what you do know. Is Swart involved?”

“
I am not sure.” She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“
If General Swart is involved, my father is finished.” He was disappointed in Hilde. He couldn’t believe his uncle had betrayed them all.

Zayden
released her. He withdrew his Fireblade from his belt and felt his energy pulse it to life. Vibrating in his hand, it lit a path as they entered a darkened chamber. Their footsteps echoed off the walls, and he heard his own harsh breathing. He was in one of V’sair’s rooms, the one where his brother studied with Emmicus. He heard Hilde start to say something, and he quieted her with a finger over his lips. He saw the whites of her eyes glow in the dark. There was a faint sound of something, or someone, almost a moan. Placing his blade before him, he concentrated, letting his will brighten a blue blaze to illuminate their path. In a dark corner he saw a pair of splayed legs just at the edge of his lit circle. He let the light travel upward and saw an ever-widening pool of blood. Zayden let go of Hilde’s hand and bent over the dying man. It was Emmicus. He felt for a pulse, and recoiled; the hand was dry and cold. He had seen death many times in his military life, but it was never easy. Finally, moving higher up his wrist, he found a feeble beat.