Keepers of the Flame (48 page)

Bri’s
fingers tightened around Elizabeth’s. “I can’t take this back home. Who knows
what would happen? It doesn’t seem to be contagious here, but who knows whether
it would be there?”

“I
am not taking any bit of the Dark to Earth. Never!” Elizabeth said.

“So
I’ve stranded us here.” Bri swallowed.

Elizabeth
hunched a shoulder, but her lips trembled. “We have a choice. We will ‘choose’
to stay. Our lives can be good here. And we will find a cure for that tumor
inside you.” She sniffed, straightened her spine, which reminded Bri not to
slouch and she did the same.

“Finding
a cure for the frink sickness and this disease, that we can give to
individuals, is our task,” Bri said, her mouth twisted. “And I’m the one to do
it, find the cure for myself, teach others, regular people.”

“Yes.”

“I
don’t want anyone to know for a while,” Bri mumbled, letting her head drop.

Elizabeth
hugged her. “No. We’ll keep this to ourselves as long as we can.”

“Not
even the girls.”

“Not
even the girls,” Elizabeth assured.

Bri’s
thoughts circled around.
What the hell are we going to do?

“Find
a cure. We
can
do that,” Elizabeth said. Bri flushed. She hadn’t meant
her thoughts to be so loud. “We can’t let negative thinking or fear stop us.”
Elizabeth took her arm from Bri, linked fingers, squeezed. “That’s advice that
has been given to me more than once by a very wise woman.”

“Very
stupid woman sometimes.”

“No
more of that! We can’t afford it. We
will
find a cure.”

Bri
hoped so. Her life depended upon it.

“Besides,”
Elizabeth said with forced cheerfulness, “Luthan said everything would be
resolved in a few days.” Her smile faded as if she’d listened to her own words,
found them wanting.

Sounded
like a death sentence to Bri, then quashed the little nasty thought and hoped
it didn’t live in the back of her mind as the Dark lived in her body.

36

T
he longer Bri
waited for Sevair, the antsier she got. She tried reading Lladranan medical
texts. They still didn’t help. Evening faded and she didn’t walk.

So
she paced the room and looked out the windows toward the park where her medica
house was, where Zeres’s body had been sucked into the ground, all neat and
tidy, and did anyone else in the whole world think that was strange and
gruesome?

Her
mind went ’round and ’round. Couldn’t bear the thought that she’d die and
Sevair would wake with a corpse beside him, or see her die. This whole horrible
mess brought out the meanest and lowest of herself and her stupidity.

She
didn’t think she could tell him, either. Surely it would be best if she broke
off the affair. Save him hurt. Save her strength.

If
the seed could travel through her bond with Zeres, it could do the same between
her and Sevair. Anyone else.

Elizabeth!

Don’t
panic. I already thought of that.

You
did? Are you sure you know what I’m thinking?

Ayes.
I’ve been monitoring you. You think I could get it. But I can shield myself
from it. Not let it in me.

Bri
let her weak knees take her to the floor, crossed her legs, bent over and put
her forehead on the floor, felt small, vague waves of comfort from the planet.

Thank
you.

You’re
welcome. I have a grieving man to comfort. We WILL overcome this, Bri.

Okay.
Faucon’s lucky to have you. I’m lucky to have you.

Ayes,
Elizabeth said.

Bri
let the link with her twin fade.

Elizabeth
could protect herself, but what of Sevair? Did he really love her? It had
sounded like it that morning. But that had been in the heat of battle. He’d
never said the words.

She
was obesessed with the idea that she’d pass the sickness to him, or, even
worse, that she’d split it somehow and they both would die. She couldn’t bear
that. She had to tell him the affair was over.

She
had to clean up her life. Make sure if she did die, it was with her affairs in
order. She looked around the tower. Someone would move in again. Maybe. Or
would her death confirm it was a bad luck place?

Dammit!
She was being so morbid. Where was Sevair anyway? It was full dark and she’d
wanted to do this in the golden sunshine of the daylight. Or at least when the
sun was up.

Negativity.
She was nothing but a mass of negativity. She rubbed her breastbone where the
kernel hunkered, soon to break that forcefield and sprout. When it did, would
it explode with tendrils and kill her quickly?

What
was wrong with her?
How come she couldn’t shake this? She’d been in tight situations before,
wondered if she’d live to the sunrise as the refugee camps were invaded.

The
tumor was working on her. Fear. Depression. Negativity.

Evil.

She’d
be a wonderful person to be around if she continued to give in to negativity.

If
she was on Earth, what would she do? Give someone a good massage. Koz.

No.
She didn’t trust herself to work alone. Yoga. Meditation. Yes. Salute to the
Sun sounded good.

Since
the bath downstairs still wasn’t finished, she showered, then went up on the
roof. Nuare wasn’t in her nest. Bri watched for Sevair and counted her
blessings. She should write some affirmations down and repeat them ad nauseam
to fight the fear and negativity. She had tools.

Blessings.
Nuare wasn’t going to kill her. Elizabeth was with her and would be working on
the problem. She had emotional support from the whole city and Castle, if she
cared to use it.

Then
Sevair came within sight, looked up and raised a hand of greeting. She had a
man who loved her, maybe. But whom she had to send away. That hurt more than
the evil growing inside her.

A
few minutes later—too soon, why hadn’t she practiced what she’d wanted to
say?—Sevair entered the rooftop with a tray. The scents of chicken soup and her
favorite freshly baked bread, rosemary sea salt, wafted to her. She felt empty.

He
walked toward her, smiling. Too bad. Get it over, quick and clean and blunt and
done
.

“Sevair,
I want you to go and not come back. Our affair is over.” She shrugged.
“Elizabeth and I only have a few days left on Lladrana and I want to spend them
up at the Castle, working with her.”

He
dropped the tray. The thick pottery bowls bounced over the small rim onto the
rooftop, broke. Chicken soup went everywhere. The bread lay in grit.

All
expression fled his face until it was as stiff as one of his own chiselled
sculptures. He retreated to the other side of the roof.

His
Song was stricken silent. His hands flexed, fisted. He stared at her for two
long moments.

“Please
leave.” Her voice cracked.

He
drew in a ragged breath, another. Shuddered. Then he advanced on her. His eyes
burned with angry determination.

“I
won’t let you do this, dismiss me or our love.” His gaze narrowed, his Song
rose or sank beyond her hearing. “Something’s wrong.” Striding over, he lifted
her by her upper arms, let her feet dangle as he scrutinized her. Meeting his
gaze was one of the hardest thing she’d ever done. She didn’t think she’d
disguised her fear and misery.

He
cocked his head as if listening to her Song, to
their
Song, still
holding her high without apparent effort. “A beat is missing. A few notes.” He
shook her gently, aware of his great strength as she hadn’t been. Not that he
wasn’t as strong emotionally. Stronger than she.

Words
tumbled from her. “I’ve got the sickness. I can’t cure it, neither can
Elizabeth. I’m dying.”

“No.”
It was a whisper, then a roar. “No!”

“Ayes.”

A
harder shake, then he set her gently on her feet and stepped back, hands
fisted. His eyes looked wild now and his Song cacophonous with fear. “Then you
will just have to learn to vanquish this sickness once and for all,” he said.
“I’m not having you dying on me.”

She
managed a watery chuckle. “I’ll do my best to survive.”

“You
will
survive.” He paced the tower roof, avoiding the mess. A lot of that
going around today. “I will
not
let you go. I will do everything in my
Power to keep you.” He sucked in a great breath, hissed it out. “Even if I must
move to Exotique Terre with you, I will be with you.”

She
staggered a few steps backward to the wall, leaned on the cool stone, stunned.
“But your country, your world…“

He
made a dismissive gesture and her mouth fell open. “You are more important.”
Who would have thought it? The most steady, responsible, practical man she’d
ever known ready to cast aside everything for…love.

But
underneath that she heard the subtones of his Song, the subtext of his words.
I
will not be abandoned again.
Not give up everything for love but from fear?
Wouldn’t it be easier for him to close his heart and step away? He didn’t. Of
course he wouldn’t, as stubborn as his own rough rock.

Gaze
locked on hers, he untied his belt pouch, opened it and poured some triangular
clicking things into his hand. He took her fist, caressed her fingers open,
palm up. “The reason I am so late. The Assayer was…busy.”

“You
were at the autopsy of the mutant soul-sucker.”

“Ayes.
But I wanted these for you.”

“No
gifts.”

“You
haven’t let me give you anything but my labor on this tower. Because you think
it will bind us together? Too late.” He sifted a few of the triangles to her.
They felt like bone.

“Dreeth
teeth?
Yuuck
.”

“We
killed a dreeth together. If we can do that, we can do anything.” He repeated
the words he’d used only this morning of this eternal day. “I will fight for
you, Bri. I will always fight for you.” With the utmost gentleness he curled
her fingers loosely over the three jaggedly sharp teeth. “Tell me how to fight
with you.”

“I’m
afraid our bond will transfer the kernel to you.”

“Let
me take it from you.” He was too intense.

Her
heart jumped in her chest. “No!”

His
eyes were wild.

“I’m
afraid it will split and lodge in us both,” she confessed.

He
prowled toward her. “Then we will fight it together. Live or die, together.”

“Merde!
I don’t want
that. That is
not
romantic, Masif.”

“I
can be romantic.” He swept her into his arms, carried her to the stair tower.

Nuare
swooped down and swallowed the loaf of bread in one gulp, suctioned up some
soup. Closed one eye in a wink at Bri.

Letting
herself press her face against him, draw in his scent, she mumbled, “No sex. I
don’t want to transfer the mass during sex.”

He laughed.
Laughed! Jiggled her a little as they went down the stairs. “Not sex. Loving.
We make love.” He kissed the top of her head. “We are bound strongly enough
that the evil could come through our touch.”

She
was afraid he was right.

B
ri suffered wild
mood swings over the next couple of days, sometimes affecting Elizabeth. But
Sevair was rock solid, an anchor for them. She could barely believe how tough
he was, though the strain of pretending she was fine showed on him, too. Like
Elizabeth, more strands at his temples turned silver.

Both
Bri and Elizabeth redoubled their efforts, reading Lorebooks, questioning
Circlets, researching, studying. Bri missed Zeres, who would have been another
anchor in the storm battering her, the old and canny man. He’d have had a
different view on all this, the empathic healing thing. She wished
he’d
left notes about that. Surely he’d tried it.

Everything
else seemed to be going very well. No invasions by the Dark horrors. The
Marshalls learned through the spy eye Nuare had placed in the Master that the
reason was they’d shaken up the monster-human.

Bri
withdrew from the afternoon sessions to “supervise” the healing of other city
medicas of the frink disease. Their training was spreading, not only other
medicas coming to learn, but medicas teaching each other.

The
frinkweed itself was close to being eradicated.

The
Marshalls trained day and night, reforging their team. Bri was reluctantly
relieved that Alexa was kept too busy to discover something was wrong with the
twins. Calli was equally involved in her children and bringing a new Chevalier
class up to speed. Koz’s injuries meant he couldn’t fight anymore and he’d
decided to learn mirror magic. Marian hovered over him and watched as he
strived to establish links between Lladrana and Earth. Bri’s and Elizabeth’s
and Sevair’s pretense was accepted.