The Chronicles Of Ixia (Books 1-6). Maria V. Snyder
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“No, her soul is still in hiding, but her body is completely healed.”
16
“HOW?” I ASKED IRYS. Hayes had said he could only heal a few bones at a time. Perhaps another healer had come to help him with Tula.
“You tell me,” Irys demanded. “What did you do that day? Hayes has been in a state ever since. He’s terrified of you.”
“Me?”
Bain came to my temporary rescue. “Perhaps you ladies would like to go outside.”
I looked around. Several people had stopped talking and gawked at us.
“I forget myself,” Irys apologized to Bain. “Now is not the time to discuss this.”
She headed toward the buffet. Everyone returned to their conversations. But she wasn’t finished with me.
Yelena, she said in my mind. Please tell me what happened with Tula.
Sudden dread churned in my stomach. Was Irys upset because I had lost control of my magic and had accidentally healed Tula, or because I could have jeopardized Tula’s life? With reluctance, I told her everything that had happened that day in Tula’s room.
You were in pain and you pushed the pain away from yourself? Irys asked.
Yes. Did I do something wrong?
No. You did something impossible. I thought you tried to heal her, which would have been dangerous, but it sounds as if you assumed her injuries and then healed yourself.
I stared at Irys with pure amazement. She sat across the room, eating her dinner.
Could you do it again? she asked.
I don’t know. It must have been an instinctive reaction.
There is only one way to find out. I felt Irys’s weary sigh. For now, I want you to get a good night’s rest. Meet me in Tula’s room tomorrow afternoon. Irys broke her magical connection to me.
Confusion creased Cahil’s face, and I realized he had been watching me. “What’s the matter?” he asked. “Shouldn’t Fourth Magician be pleased that you healed that girl? That would mean … Oh, my sword!” He gaped.
Before I could press him for details, the music stopped.
“Midnight,” Bain declared. “Time to go. The students have a full day tomorrow.” His delighted anticipation of a full day of learning caused a ripple of smiles around him.
Obediently, everyone streamed out into the darkness, heading off to dorms and apartments. As he passed, Dax caught my eye. He grinned and held up seven fingers. I looked forward to hearing from him about my additional two points of gossip-inspiring behavior.
Cahil walked me to my rooms. He was unusually quiet.
Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Oh, my sword what?” I demanded.
“I realized something,” he said, trying to shrug me off.
Not content with his vague answer, I prompted, “Which was …”
“If I told you, you would be angry. I don’t want to end the evening with a fight.”
“And if I promised not to get upset?”
“You would anyway.”
“Tomorrow, then?”
“Ask me the next time we’re fighting.”
“What if we don’t fight?”
Cahil laughed. “With you, there is always a next time.”
Then with a speed that surprised me, he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me in for a quick kiss on the cheek before releasing me.
“Till tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder as he strode away.
It was only after watching him disappear into the darkness that I realized I stood with my switchblade clutched in my right hand. But I hadn’t triggered the blade. The south was making me soft. First curls, now this. Shaking my head, I opened my door.
At Tula’s room the next afternoon, I had to squeeze my way in. Tula’s bed occupied the center. Leif and Hayes stood on the right side of her bed, and Irys and a young girl stood on the left. Tula’s guard, one of Cahil’s men, looked uncomfortable wedged in a corner.
Hayes paled when I looked at him. Irys introduced me to Opal, Tula’s sister. Opal’s long brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, and her red-rimmed eyes looked swollen from crying.
I hadn’t expected an audience. “Irys,” I said. “I need to spend some time with Opal before I can try to bring Tula back.”
Leif muttered something about grandstanding on his way out, and Hayes just aimed for the door.
“Do you need me?” Irys asked.
“No.”
“We don’t have much time,” Irys warned as she left the room.
She didn’t need to remind me that Tula’s attacker still roamed free, possibly hunting for another victim. However, I knew in my heart that if I rushed this, I wouldn’t succeed.
I asked Opal to tell me about her sister. In halting sentences, the young girl told me only a couple stories of their childhood.
“Tula once made me a large glass tiger to protect me from nightmares.” Opal smiled at the memory. “It worked and the tiger looked so lifelike that Tula started making other glass animals.” She glanced from her sister’s still form to the guard in the corner.
Opal seemed hesitant and distracted by her sister’s condition. So I changed the subject and asked about her trip to the Citadel.
Her dark brown eyes widened. “Fourth Magician woke us all up in the dead of night.”
At the word dead, the young girl glanced with dread at Tula.
“I was barely awake. Before I knew it, I was on the magician’s horse, riding flat out for the Keep.” Opal clutched her arms to herself. “When Tula was found, the healers rushed her to the Citadel. My parents had to find people to work the kilns and take care of us before they could follow her. They’re on the road somewhere.” Opal began to ramble. “We didn’t pass them. They don’t know I’m here. It’s my first trip away from home, and we stopped only to eat. I slept in the saddle.”
That would explain Irys’s exhaustion. Even today she had dark circles under her eyes. That also explained why Opal seemed so distressed. I switched tactics and invited Opal to take a walk. She appeared reluctant to leave her sister until I assured her that Tula would be fine.
I showed her the campus. The air temperature felt comfortable. With warm afternoons and chilly evenings, the weather during the cooling season was my favorite.
Eventually, we wandered out into the Citadel. I guided Opal toward the market. Fisk appeared with a ready smile and led us to a dress shop. I bought Opal a change of clothes and Fisk played tour guide for her.
When Opal seemed more relaxed, my questions about Tula grew more specific. As she remembered more stories, I pulled a thread of magic and linked my mind with Opal’s, witnessing her memories as she spoke. I smelled the hot furnace of their family’s glass factory, and felt the coarse sand in my hands.
“Tula and I used to hide from Mara, our older sister. We had found the perfect spot. Mara still doesn’t know where it is,” Opal said, smiling.
The image of an awning of tree limbs and sun-dappled grass filled Opal’s mind as the cool scent of moist earth reached my nose.
“That’s it.” I grabbed Opal’s arm. “Hold that place in your