Touch of Power
Page 32
“Thank you, Belen,” I said, giving him a sweet smile.
The rest groaned. Quain threw a rock at him. Belen caught it in one hand. While the men joked, I added the remaining ingredients to my soup. I fished a few hot embers from the fire and placed the pot over them. As I stirred the liquid, my thoughts returned to Kerrick’s comment. My excitement over the chance to go into town warred with the unappealing prospect of Kerrick teaching me how to match the forest’s song. Perhaps Belen could instruct me instead.
When the soup was done, I made a show of letting Belen try it first since he had defended me.
“Fine with me,” Quain quipped. “He’ll also be the first one to keel over, killed by Avry’s cooking.”
“But what if I used a heavy poison?” I asked. “One that sinks to the bottom and only kills the men who eat the last couple of bowls?”
Quain stared at me as if he wasn’t sure if I joked or not. “You have an evil mind,” he hedged.
“Thank you.” I grinned.
“Aren’t healers required to take an oath not to harm anyone or something like that?” Loren asked.
“After we complete our apprenticeship, we travel to the Guild House and work there for a year, demonstrating our knowledge to the Elders. At the end of that year, we graduate. During the ceremony, we swear an oath not to intentionally cause harm or death to another.” Unless in self-defense.
“But you zapped Flea, and hurt the merc leader,” Loren said.
“I didn’t graduate. Therefore, I haven’t taken the oath.”
My revelation caused a ripple of…not quite concern, but unease. Belen’s hands suddenly went to his throat. He wheezed and gasped, then slumped over.
Everyone but Kerrick jumped to their feet. I knelt beside him. Was he allergic to parsley? His body shook and I touched his shoulder. He was laughing.
I played along, fussing over him, apologizing for not waiting long enough for the poison to sink.
When the three men inched closer, he sat up. “Gotcha!”
They yelled, then scolded him for his prank.
Still laughing, he said, “I can’t believe you fell for it. Why would Avry poison us when she could have let me die, and Flea get eaten?”
“Besides,” I added, “I wouldn’t want to waste good poison on you guys.”
“Ha. Ha. Not funny,” Flea said.
“Is there such a thing as a good poison?” Loren asked.
“Actually, there is,” I said. “The fulip plant is poisonous, but if you dry it, crush it and mix it with ginger water, it becomes a remedy for an upset stomach.”
“You seem to know what you’re doing. Why didn’t you graduate?”
“The plague came before I finished my apprenticeship.”
The humorous mood faded in an instant. The plague had ruined all our futures. I served the rest of the soup, but noticed everyone but Belen waited until I swallowed a few mouthfuls before they ate. Joking aside, they still didn’t trust me.
“Stop overthinking it. Your head is getting in the way of your feet,” Kerrick said.
“That makes no sense,” I said, stifling my frustration.
I had been walking through the woods all morning and getting nowhere. Back and forth outside the cave, I tried to copy Kerrick’s silent movements.
“It’s all in how you step and how you distribute your weight.”
He watched while I made another pass.
“Use your h*ps more.”
“Like this?” My h*ps swayed with each step. I felt ridiculous.
“No. Not like that.” He came up behind me. “Let me show you.”
When Kerrick grasped my hips, his magic flowed over me, igniting a tingling warmth in places it shouldn’t.
“Why are you pulling power?” I asked.
“Am I?” He sounded surprised.
“Yes.”
“Habit, I guess. Keeping my connection with the forest just in case. Ignore it.”
Easy for him to say. He didn’t have someone leaning against his back sending him distracting vibrations.
“Walk like you did the last time,” he said.
As I stepped, he corrected my gait. We did a couple passes. I understood what he had been trying to explain, but when he released me, I wasn’t so sure.
“That’s better. Try again.”
I did. Again and again and again. All afternoon, which normally would have been unpleasant, but there was a big difference in personalities between Kerrick the teacher and Kerrick the leader.
“That’s it,” he said. “You got the technique. Now you need to—”
“Practice.” My words to Flea had come back to haunt me.
“Right. I’ll give you two days.”
“And if I don’t improve?”
“I’ll go with Flea to the market. But if you do improve, you’ll graduate.” Humor lit his gray eyes—they had changed color to match the winter forest.
“As long as graduating doesn’t involve swearing an oath.”
“Oh, no, wouldn’t want to do that. Besides, you’ve been true to your word. That’s all I need.”
I spent the next two days practicing in the woods on my own. It was refreshing to be by myself for a few hours. And without the pressure of someone watching me, I could focus all my energy into listening to the forest’s song. Once I knew what sounds to listen for, I wondered how I had missed them before.
The rest groaned. Quain threw a rock at him. Belen caught it in one hand. While the men joked, I added the remaining ingredients to my soup. I fished a few hot embers from the fire and placed the pot over them. As I stirred the liquid, my thoughts returned to Kerrick’s comment. My excitement over the chance to go into town warred with the unappealing prospect of Kerrick teaching me how to match the forest’s song. Perhaps Belen could instruct me instead.
When the soup was done, I made a show of letting Belen try it first since he had defended me.
“Fine with me,” Quain quipped. “He’ll also be the first one to keel over, killed by Avry’s cooking.”
“But what if I used a heavy poison?” I asked. “One that sinks to the bottom and only kills the men who eat the last couple of bowls?”
Quain stared at me as if he wasn’t sure if I joked or not. “You have an evil mind,” he hedged.
“Thank you.” I grinned.
“Aren’t healers required to take an oath not to harm anyone or something like that?” Loren asked.
“After we complete our apprenticeship, we travel to the Guild House and work there for a year, demonstrating our knowledge to the Elders. At the end of that year, we graduate. During the ceremony, we swear an oath not to intentionally cause harm or death to another.” Unless in self-defense.
“But you zapped Flea, and hurt the merc leader,” Loren said.
“I didn’t graduate. Therefore, I haven’t taken the oath.”
My revelation caused a ripple of…not quite concern, but unease. Belen’s hands suddenly went to his throat. He wheezed and gasped, then slumped over.
Everyone but Kerrick jumped to their feet. I knelt beside him. Was he allergic to parsley? His body shook and I touched his shoulder. He was laughing.
I played along, fussing over him, apologizing for not waiting long enough for the poison to sink.
When the three men inched closer, he sat up. “Gotcha!”
They yelled, then scolded him for his prank.
Still laughing, he said, “I can’t believe you fell for it. Why would Avry poison us when she could have let me die, and Flea get eaten?”
“Besides,” I added, “I wouldn’t want to waste good poison on you guys.”
“Ha. Ha. Not funny,” Flea said.
“Is there such a thing as a good poison?” Loren asked.
“Actually, there is,” I said. “The fulip plant is poisonous, but if you dry it, crush it and mix it with ginger water, it becomes a remedy for an upset stomach.”
“You seem to know what you’re doing. Why didn’t you graduate?”
“The plague came before I finished my apprenticeship.”
The humorous mood faded in an instant. The plague had ruined all our futures. I served the rest of the soup, but noticed everyone but Belen waited until I swallowed a few mouthfuls before they ate. Joking aside, they still didn’t trust me.
“Stop overthinking it. Your head is getting in the way of your feet,” Kerrick said.
“That makes no sense,” I said, stifling my frustration.
I had been walking through the woods all morning and getting nowhere. Back and forth outside the cave, I tried to copy Kerrick’s silent movements.
“It’s all in how you step and how you distribute your weight.”
He watched while I made another pass.
“Use your h*ps more.”
“Like this?” My h*ps swayed with each step. I felt ridiculous.
“No. Not like that.” He came up behind me. “Let me show you.”
When Kerrick grasped my hips, his magic flowed over me, igniting a tingling warmth in places it shouldn’t.
“Why are you pulling power?” I asked.
“Am I?” He sounded surprised.
“Yes.”
“Habit, I guess. Keeping my connection with the forest just in case. Ignore it.”
Easy for him to say. He didn’t have someone leaning against his back sending him distracting vibrations.
“Walk like you did the last time,” he said.
As I stepped, he corrected my gait. We did a couple passes. I understood what he had been trying to explain, but when he released me, I wasn’t so sure.
“That’s better. Try again.”
I did. Again and again and again. All afternoon, which normally would have been unpleasant, but there was a big difference in personalities between Kerrick the teacher and Kerrick the leader.
“That’s it,” he said. “You got the technique. Now you need to—”
“Practice.” My words to Flea had come back to haunt me.
“Right. I’ll give you two days.”
“And if I don’t improve?”
“I’ll go with Flea to the market. But if you do improve, you’ll graduate.” Humor lit his gray eyes—they had changed color to match the winter forest.
“As long as graduating doesn’t involve swearing an oath.”
“Oh, no, wouldn’t want to do that. Besides, you’ve been true to your word. That’s all I need.”
I spent the next two days practicing in the woods on my own. It was refreshing to be by myself for a few hours. And without the pressure of someone watching me, I could focus all my energy into listening to the forest’s song. Once I knew what sounds to listen for, I wondered how I had missed them before.
