Whitesong Series

Third Movement: Rainstorms and Firebrands

Third Movement: Rainstorms and Firebrands
Copyrights Erin Pfeiffer, 2005.

When his blurry mind finally began to function again, a queasy worry drifted over him. One long-fingered hand felt about on the cot until it hit the soft, warm skin of the child. In the darkness, he checked her limbs to be sure nothing was wrong, then rose gently and tucked the blanket in around her, brushing her hair back from her face in a grandfatherly manner. Stretching briefly, he made his sightless way to the closest wall-torch and lit it, sure that Shannon and Durig must be sleeping somewhere nearby.

But the room lay bare, empty of anything but Zoe’s cot, his boots, himself, and the child.

Bewildered and concerned, he quickly re-braided his tousled hair and shook out the tangled robes. His hand hovered to douse the torch when hushed, angry voices drifted under the doorframe, and a louder, clearer voice rang out commandingly over them.

“Take me to the man at once.”

Shocked, Alex jerked his hand, fumbling the torch-cap and burning himself in the process. Hissing at his own stupidity, he rubbed his eyes and moved to the door. It couldn’t have been Hannah’s voice, could it? He sent her to go get Shannon and Durig! If she was here, where were his apprentices? The vague uneasiness he felt on waking was replaced with a simmering annoyance. Why would she disobey a direct order? Gripping the torch, he shuddered. An unnatural fear touched him, and at the doorway he paused. Something was wrong, and the feeling of wrongness coated the air like the thick slime over still water, hiding whatever lurked below.

“Well! Where is he?!”

Hannah. There could be no doubting it now. Confused and angered, Alex burst through the doorway and into the brightly lit corridor, following the sound of her voice down the hallway and into the huge Healer’s Hall. All the wall torches and ceiling lamps were ablaze with light, and he grimaced against it, eyes watering. The whitewashed walls glowed like snow under the noonday sun, blinding him. Squinting into the room, he found the Sisters surrounding a smaller, slighter shape he recognized as Hannah’s.

“What do you want, foolish girl!” he snipped, somewhere between fear and frustration. “I told you to fetch Shannon and Durig. Where are they?” What was that she was wearing? It looked like.....a white dress, with red embroidery. Where had she gotten that dress?

“Rueson.” Hannah’s voice rang cold and clear, and Alex felt a wash of heat roll over him. Feverishly he swayed, stepping back from the slight figure, the feeling of wrongness redoubling. “How dare you speak to me that way. I demand you show due respect to your mistress.”

Slowly his vision returned, and Alex began to make out the strange color of Hannah’s eyes, the choppy, unnatural movements of her body. The expression on her face, a mask of heat and power, a self-confident sneer that seemed ill-fitting. Putting the pieces together as he knelt, the healer shook his head.

“Don’t harm the girl, LightBringer.” At once a gasp rose from the Sisters observing, and a titter of frustrated conversation erupted. Alex held up a hand. “Quiet, ladies. Yes, there is a goddess in your midst. Haven’t any of you heard of Possessions? Why did you impede her?”

A young Sister Alex didn’t recognize knelt herself, stammering, “W-we....d-d-didn’t think that.....she just c-came b-b-bursting in here, calling for you. W-we thought.....”

“That I was that girl, Hannah Murmel. No harm done.” Straightening up to her full height, the Hannah-that-was-not-Hannah smiled. “Bow your knees to your mistress, Sisters. This may be the only way you ever see me.”

Alex half-chuckled. “Come off it, Adreylinne. You’re scaring them.” With his powers, Alex didn’t much fear Adreylinne the LightBringer. The goddess loved and cherished men like him; she rewarded his order frequently and held him in high esteem. Besides, unlike others, he knew the true nature of the girl Adreylinne. Knew her secret fears and her hopes, wishes, dreams. Saw not only the power, but also the child that dwelt within them. Watching the Sisters kneel to the goddess, Alex found himself half lost in thought. What did Adreylinne want with him and the Sisters? The LightBringer usually kept herself locked in the Great Tower, observing and interacting only with her highest ranking acolytes. Smoothing his robes, he glanced over at her again and furrowed his brow deeply.

“Why are you here?” The words left him dreamily, and hung in the air like gossamer bubbles. Suddenly he wanted to pop them, take them back.

But it was too late, and Adreylinne turned her golden smile upon him. “I wanted to see the girl. I’ve heard she is doing very well....and I was hoping for a demonstration of her powers. You see....one of my favorite chambermaids is unwell. She seems to have contracted the Fever.”

Alex shuddered involuntarily at the mention of the ‘Fever’. Calling that illness a fever was wishful thinking. No one contracted it and survived, and not even magical healing could erase it from the system. After months of struggling against it, every person he thought he’d cured eventually fell ill again and died. Why he hadn’t caught it himself was a mystery.

“The child can’t cure the plague, my Lady,” murmured the healer gently. “She’s only a girl.”

“I have faith in her abilities, Master Alexander,” said Hannah’s voice. “Bring her to the isolation rooms.” And with that the body of his apprentice shuffled out the door, aided by two Red Priestesses and another healer.

Alex massaged his temples with trembling fingers. A defeated sigh escaped him, and at once the nearest Sister of the Order gripped his arm tenderly.

“Don’t touch me,” he snapped peevishly, pulling the limb away with a look of contempt. “I don’t need your ministrations. See to the ill and the dying. That is your duty.” Coldly he swept out of the room, slipping into Zoe’s chambers and scooping the sleeping child into his arms.

As he shuffled down the darkened corridors, skirting away from the bright light of mortal life that poured out of the sickrooms, his hands shifted and he shook Zoe gently.

“Wake up, girl.” The words sounded unkind even to his seasoned ears; a wash of regret heated his face and his ears drooped. Like a stone....Hannah was right. Her words, like a judgment from on high, rang in his ears. You have a healer’s hands, but a golem’s heart and soul, Alex. His shadowed blue eyes closed for a moment, face white, and he hid the slight shaking of his hands under her soft body. Fooling yourself again. Thinking you're brave. Hiding from your own fear.

A soft whimper from the child, and her flushed face sprang to life with the opening of those charcoal-black eyes. Spots of white appeared as the dark orbs darted left, then right, then left again. The tiny chest rose and fell faster and her slender hands gripped his robes as she hiccuped, “Mister Alex? Where are we?”

His eyes couldn’t meet hers, and his voice didn’t quite seem to do what he wanted. The first word was hoarse, and the second squeaked. “In the....” A slight pause. “We’re going to see someone who isn’t feeling well. The Mistress wants you to see if you can help her. Do you think you are rested enough?”

The cheery reply made his heart lurch and drop into the pit of his stomach, leaving a sick feeling in his chest. “Sure I can! I like to help. I sang a song to a little bird that stopped moving yesterday and it got up and sang with me! It looked lots better!” Was she really so advanced as to be raising small animals already? What was it he held in his arms?

When they reached the isolation rooms, he knelt by the doorway and – unwillingly – released the squirming child, who at once disappeared into the room with not a shred of fear. Lifting himself from the floor wearily, he paused for a second in the doorway to gather his thoughts. The place was rank with the scent of death, and he breathed it in almost happily, taking comfort in the familiarity of it. Goddesses and prodigies....how did he get tangled in all of this mess!

The room itself was lit only by the fire that glowed full-force in the grate, stifling hot and cramped. The healer pressed a hand to his chest as if to ease the sudden tightness there and glanced over the still figure in the bed. Far gone...too far to be brought back. A pity; the girl was indeed very pretty. He could see what it was in her Adreylinne might find favorable. For a long time he stared silently at the white face, lost in his own thoughts, but a sudden movement towards the bed jerked him out of his reverie. The child Zoe walked brassily up to the bedside and sat down, animatedly grasping the still figure’s hand.

“She can’t possibly heal that woman,” Alex muttered to himself, watching her breathlessly. So bright in the face of such suffering. How long could it last? Before long her body would give way and she’d give up that precious spirit.

The grip of her hand grew tighter, and the low childish voice fluted in perfect melody out into the room. Alex took a deep breath, the oppressive heat of the room suddenly lifted, and felt a cool hand brush his skin. Across the room, Hannah-Adreylinne stood stock-still and wide-eyed, watching the scene play out before her.

“Alle alle, tul ten ovre,
mirirsire kahven kare,
loile toai, toai shala.
Alle alle, tul ten ovre,
yiros beven tristre quaci.”

As the song swept through the room, a strange silver dust began to float in the air over the sleeping woman, coating her short brown hair and shimmering inches above her sharp features. Zoe’s soft breath blew out feathers of light, making the air burn with glowing dust as she piped her strange song, words nonsense but voice soaring in endless circles high above their heads. Alex felt his heart jump, lifted a hand towards the strange dust, witness to this impossible miracle. The woman abed began to blow out feathers, too.....but instead of silver, her breath was goldish-red, unnatural and with a spicy scent that seemed....could it be? Was this tiny child really singing the sickness from the woman’s chest?

Adreylinne, through Hannah, gasped and sank to her knees, a whiteness in her face. If he could have moved, Alex would have rushed to her side. Nothing frightened a goddess, but even he was shaken by this sight. Of all the things he’d witnessed in his time as a Healer and priest, not once had he ever seen anyone heal an illness magically. Wounds could be cured and fevers broken, but Zoheret was literally sucking the death from her patient’s lips. A wetness on Alex’s cheeks had him reaching to his face in shock, wiping away tears of pure awe.

And as quickly as it began, the whole miracle was over.

Zoe grinned exhaustedly and ran over to Alex, hugging his knees. The woman in the bed sat up. Adreylinne and Alex stood stunned, unable to speak.

“My Lady.....” Alex whispered. The woman on the bed glanced at him, her own eyes silver mirrors of joy and fear.

“It’s true, Alexander. We have a fable in our midst.” For a moment Adreylinne’s red-gold eyes glowed through Hannah’s in a flash of pure unadulterated excitement and thrilled abandon, and then the body went limp and slumped. Alex reached out and caught Hannah, holding her to his chest with his free hand and stroking Zoe’s hair with the other.

The whole world was changing.