The Healing Wars: Book III: Darkfall Read online

  “What’s in there?” Aylin said.

  “You’ll see.”

  He cleared us with the guards and escorted us in. Tall shelves marked with various colors lined the room, rows and rows of them. Boxes of dry goods, baskets of fruit, bags of grains and flour. Enough food to last months. Along the walls were weapon racks. Blue for swords, green for rapiers, red for knives. Barrels of spears stood next to them. At the far end of the room near the stairs were ten wardrobes, probably for uniforms or armor.

  “Where did you get all this?” I’d never seen so much food in one spot in my life. I didn’t even know Geveg had this much food.

  “We raided some Baseeri storehouses and bought or traded for the rest. Once we had control of the farms again, we started stockpiling it. I told you we were prepared.”

  Even Aylin stared wide-eyed at the overwhelming amount of supplies. “Are you giving it away to whoever needs it?”

  “It’s for the army, so if you fight, you’re taken care of.” Ipstan walked past the last weapon rack and led us upstairs. “We’re not letting anyone starve, even if they don’t want to fight. But food isn’t all we have.”

  The second level of the warehouse held just as many shelves and racks.

  “Those shelves there are full of seeds,” he said. “Those there are bulbs, and some seedlings there by the windows. We’re likely to lose a lot of crops on the farming isles during the fight, and we’ll need to replant.”

  Danello whistled. “That’s thinking ahead.”

  “My goal is to see Geveg self-sufficient again, so we need to be ready to replace what we lose in the war.” He walked between the shelves, waving a hand at objects as we passed. “Fishing nets, traps, spare sails. Yokes and plows, nails, tools. Even some pots and pans and basic bowls.”

  Ipstan had done a lot to prepare Geveg for survival. Saama had been wrong. The resistance wasn’t a bunch of people playing soldier. They were prepared, not only to fight but to rebuild after the fight.

  “The one thing we are short on is pynvium.” We headed back downstairs again. “We didn’t have much to begin with, and with the blue-boys in control of the League and the Baseeri in control of the Aristocrats’ Isles, all the places where we could have found more are closed off to us. That pynvium armor you got for us this morning was a blessing right from the Saints, but it still won’t be enough to last the whole war.”

  I’d never said the armor was for the resistance, and it bothered me that he’d just assumed it was his. But what did I need it for? Jeatar had all the raw ore I’d stolen from the Duke, and eventually he’d find, or Onderaan would make, a pynvium forge to smelt it.

  They could really use that ore here.

  Not that we had time to go get it for them.

  “What about Healers?” Soek asked. “Are there enough of those?” It surprised me he might be willing to stay and fight. Verlatta was his home, and he’d come here to escape the Duke when Verlatta was under siege. I always assumed he’d go back once he could.

  “There’re never enough of those in war, but we have a few.” He looked up and chuckled. “And there are two of them now.”

  Two boys around twenty stood by one of the wardrobes. The door was open, and armor pieces lined several of the shelves. One boy laughed when the other struck a pose, hands in front, fingers splayed, like he was about to pounce. It took me a moment to recognize the bracers and the chest piece.

  The Undying’s armor.

  Tali’s hand dropped from mine and she moved, fast as fright. She snatched a knife off the closest rack and lunged for the boy in the armor.

  “Tali!”

  Danello moved a breath later, closer to the Healers than we were. He met her before she reached them, going for the knife. She threw herself forward, right into Danello. The knife blade sank deep into his shoulder.

  He cried out but didn’t let go of her. They both toppled to the ground. Soek and Ipstan grabbed Tali, dragged her off. She kept kicking and swinging toward the terrified Healer, who was now up against the wall.

  I jumped between him and Tali, grabbed her face and forced her to look at me. “Stop it! Calm down. Do you hear me? Calm down!”

  Tali whimpered, staring at me with fear in her eyes. She still squirmed but had stopped struggling.

  “Get that armor off,” I said, not taking my gaze off Tali’s. “Put it in the wardrobe where she can’t see it.”

  Shuffling and thumping behind me. Nervous murmurs.

  “What in Moed’s name is going on?” Ipstan glared at me. Soek had let go of Tali and gone to Danello. Ipstan held her by both arms.

  “She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

  “Nya,” Soek called, “something’s wrong!”

  “What is it?”

  “Look.”

  I glanced over. Soek held the knife out, balanced in his palm.

  Red. The hilt was painted red. The whole rack of knives was red.

  Saints’ mercy, no.

  Tali had grabbed a poisoned blade.

  FIFTEEN

  I left Tali and dropped to Danello’s side. He was unconscious, his face pale and sweaty, his breathing fast and shallow. Soek had healed the shoulder wound, but the poison was still working its way through Danello’s system, eating him alive.

  “Don’t die, please don’t die.” I pressed my palm against his forehead and grabbed his hand. Felt my way in. Bright spots flared everywhere, damage I’d never even seen before. I drew what I could, healed what I could.

  Tali started whimpering again. Ipstan cried out, then Tali crashed to the floor beside me, staring at Danello as if she knew he was in trouble.

  “She bit me!” Ipstan said. “The little brat bit me.”

  I ignored him. Prayed she’d stay still, stay quiet, and let me save Danello from the poison every Healer said couldn’t be healed.

  She watched while I drew in another batch of the damage, this time in his lungs. It chewed through my chest and I gasped. Her gaze flicked from him to me.

  “Nya, you can’t help him,” Soek whispered. “I know you want to but you can’t.”

  “Yes, I can.” More pain, more damage, shredding his blood, his muscles. I shoved it into the hollow space between my heart and guts. It wasn’t so hollow anymore, but there was still room.

  “What is going on?” Ipstan yelled, stepping into my field of vision. He sounded more scared than angry. “Why did she attack my Healers?”

  I said nothing, my teeth clenched against the pain.

  Aylin cleared her throat. “She, um, was kidnapped by a tracker and taken to the Duke. He turned her into an Undying and forced her to fight. To kill. Nya found her and pulled her out of the armor, but it did something to her mind. She’s been … like that, ever since.”

  “You brought an Undying here?”

  “I brought my sister home.” I healed again, drew again. “She needs help.”

  Ipstan wiped a hand across his mouth. The confidence he’d shown earlier was slipping, as if weighing whether my support was worth my crazy, murderous sister.

  “You’re going to need pynvium if you insist on healing him,” Soek said, “and we don’t have any.”

  “Ipstan does.”

  Ipstan shook his head. “We don’t have enough to spare on someone who’s dying.”

  “Bring me the armor.”

  Soek took a step toward it, but Ipstan grabbed his arm. “That’s our armor.”

  “No, it’s not,” I snapped. “We killed the Undying, so it belongs to us. I never said you could have it. You took it from Saama without even asking us.”

  “I need it for the resistance. You don’t need it—”

  “I need it now.”

  Soek yanked his arm away and went to the wardrobe. The two Healers were still there, but they backed away.

  “He’s already dead,” Ipstan said, though not unkindly. “You’re wasting it trying to help him.”

  Danello’s lungs were failing again. I healed them, following the poiso
n as it ravaged his body. “I’ll empty it when I’m done.”

  “That’s not possible.”

  “It is for her,” Aylin said.

  Soek came back, a pynvium bracer in his hands.

  “No.” Ipstan blocked him, hands out. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you waste this when in days we’ll have soldiers needing it more who can be saved.”

  “Get out of his way,” Aylin said. “You’re the one who decided to make those awful weapons! If you let him die, then I’ll tell everyone in Geveg that if they get hurt too badly, you’ll let them die too. That all you care about is the pynvium, just like the Duke and the Luminary.”

  “That’s a lie! I care what happens to Gevegians.”

  “Prove it. Help save one.”

  Ipstan hesitated, looking less like a leader with every breath. “You’d better be telling the truth about emptying that.” He stepped back. Soek came closer with the bracer. Tali shrieked and dived toward it, swatting it away. It flew across the room and skittered along the floor.

  “Tali!” I bit back tears. Please, Saint Saea, don’t let me lose them both.

  Tali stared at Danello, then at me. She put a hand on my arm. The skin beneath her fingers tingled as she drew, and the pain in my guts subsided.

  “Hurts,” she whispered.

  “That’s right, it does,” I said, hope bubbling past the pain in my chest. “You have to get rid of it. Can you push it into the pynvium for me? Soek, bring it back, give it to Tali.”

  He brought her the bracer again, but she raised her hand and recoiled. Soek backed up.

  “Tali, please, use the pynvium.”

  Soek crouched down and slid the bracer across the floor. It stopped next to my knee. I took my hand off Danello’s forehead and pressed it against the bracer. “It won’t hurt you, see?”

  She scooted closer and put her hand over mine. I slipped mine away and returned it to Danello. He was pale as death now, cold and clammy. The damage was everywhere, moving faster than I could heal.

  I closed my eyes and dug deeper, chasing the poison down, trying to get ahead of it. Tali put her hand back on my arm and the tingling returned.

  She gripped my arm tight. “Too much,” she whispered.

  Clothes rustled and someone sat next to me on the other side. Warm hands wrapped around my forearm. Soek’s.

  “Aylin, we’ll need the other bracer,” he said.

  “I’ll get it.”

  I expected Ipstan to object again, but he didn’t say a word. The Healers in the corner murmured between themselves, their voices getting louder, like they were coming closer to watch.

  I drew, braced against the constant flow of pain. Soek and Tali pulled it out just as quickly. I prayed as hard as I healed, everything Mama and Grannyma had ever said about poison ringing in my ears. It can’t be healed, the poisoned person can’t be saved, it’s impossible.

  But I’d done the impossible before.

  Saea willing, I could do it one more time.

  We healed for hours. The sun had set, and Aylin brought lamps and food, though I wasn’t able to eat. She put a cup to my lips, and I sipped fruit juice when my mouth got too dry to swallow. Three pieces of pynvium armor were piled next to us—two bracers and a greave. Soon we’d need a fourth.

  Kione had arrived with Danello’s father, who sat near us, his jaw set, his eyes worried, watching his son struggle to live. Ipstan was still there, and others had joined him, gathering like buzzards around a kill.

  “How long can she keep this up?”

  “Do you think she can save him?”

  “What happens when they run out of pynvium?”

  I didn’t want to think about that. Soek and Tali could try keeping up with the heals while I flashed the armor, but it was taking all of us just to stay ahead of the damage. If I left, the poison would surely kill Danello before I could get back.

  “You could help, you know,” Aylin had told the remaining Healer somewhere after midnight. He hadn’t answered her, but he’d left quickly, the disapproving glares of the others following him out the door.

  More pynvium stacked up beside us, an entire suit of armor. Tali trembled, but I couldn’t tell if the armor bothered her or just the exhaustion.

  Ipstan left. Others arrived. Some brought candles and sang prayer songs. Saama sat with us for a while, helped in by the same two girls who’d run messages for her before. The flow of people was as constant as the flow of pain.

  It was like the Duke’s weapon all over again. My skin sizzled from within, my throat was raw. I had no feeling in my hands but the tingle that pricked me over and over and over.

  Danello groaned, the healing no less painful for him. Probably more so since the same organs were torn and healed again and again.

  The clock tower struck three, like the chimes were saying, Let. Him. Die.

  “Maybe we should … I mean, he’s in so much pain,” his father said, struggling to get the words out. “It might be time to stop.”

  “No.” I refused to let him die. Refused to lose one more friend.

  “Nya, he’s suffering. We can’t do this to him anymore.”

  Hot tears rolls down my cheeks. “I’m not giving up on him.”

  Danello, stay with me. You promised you’d stay with me.

  Sunrise brightened the warehouse, shafts of yellow cutting through the upper windows like knives. I squinted and turned my face away. Almost two full sets of pynvium armor sat beside us now, the final pieces in Tali’s and Soek’s hands.

  Sweat dampened my clothes, probably all our clothes. Danello lay in a pool of it. I hurt with every breath. Shook with every exhale. I followed the poison, round and round and—

  The lungs I’d been healing all night were still healed. I sensed further. So were the heart and muscles that had been shredded and repaired. The poison was fading, the worst of it around Danello’s liver.

  “He’s … getting … better,” I rasped, barely able to speak.

  Danello’s father sobbed, relief soothing some of the lines in his face.

  I kept healing, but the damage didn’t return.

  By midmorning the poison was all in his liver, fighting to stay, to keep hurting, but Danello’s body was finally winning. I drew out the last of its damage, dull now, no longer shining bright. It slid through me with hardly a sting, as if resigned to its defeat.

  I kept my hands on Danello, searching, making sure it was all gone, all healed.

  “We got it.” He was going to be okay.

  Danello opened his eyes, took a ragged breath. Still too weak to talk, but he was alive. Alive!

  I hugged him as tight as my trembling arms would let me. Tali slumped to the floor with a heavy sigh and closed her eyes. Soek looked ready to drop as well. Aylin cried and clapped her hands while the rest of the watching crowed cheered.

  “Thank you, Nya,” Danello’s father said, squeezing my hand with both of his. “I don’t know how—I can’t repay—Anything you ever need, you tell me. Anything.”

  I nodded, but I had what I needed. I hadn’t lost Danello.

  “Is it safe to move him?” His father ran a hand through his hair, looking a lot like his son. “I have a room not far from here where he can rest.”

  “Yes. I don’t think he’ll be able to walk for a while yet but—”

  “Not a problem.” He picked him up as easily as if he was Jovan or Bahari. Danello’s father was a lot stronger than he looked.

  “You could use some rest yourself,” Aylin said. “All of you. Let me find us some rooms.” She followed Danello’s father toward the door.

  Heads turned, watching them leave, then swiveled back to me. Most of the candles had melted to stubs, but they still flickered.

  “She saved him, did you see that?”

  “It’s like she brought him back from the dead.”

  “If she fights with us, we can’t possibly lose.”

  I sighed. That wasn’t true. Nothing I did would stop the Duke’s fire r
ocks from raining down on us. But as Grannyma used to say, running from trouble only left you too tired to deal with it when it caught you. Maybe there was something we could do to help—

  “Nya!” Aylin burst through the crowd, but she didn’t looked scared, just puzzled. “You’d better come see this.”

  I glanced at Tali, asleep on the floor.

  “I’ll watch her,” Soek said. “Too tired to move anyway.”

  “Thank you.”

  Aylin helped me up, and we made our way to the door, my legs shaking. The crowd parted, smiling at me and nodding.

  Aylin opened the door. More people stood outside the warehouse, lining the streets on all sides. Hundreds of them. Their candles also still burned, and honeysuckle filled the air. Wreaths of it had been tossed on the ground in front of the building, like offerings to a saint.

  I stepped into the sunshine. The crowd cheered and applauded.

  “Just look at them all,” Aylin said.

  “What do they want?” Sure, it was nice not having people calling me names or trying to kill me, but this kind of attention came with a price. I’d lived on the streets long enough to know that.

  Bells rang, the same fast, sharp clangs we’d heard yesterday morning.

  Attack bells.

  “More Undying?” Aylin asked as the crowd turned, murmuring to each other but not running.

  “Would they send more if two didn’t come back?” I said.

  Someone shouted at the far edge of the crowd. The murmurs rose to nervous chatter, and the folks on the edge took off running.

  “That can’t be good.”

  The shouting grew louder. Kione ran through the crowd. “We’re under attack!” he said, finally close enough for us to make out the words. “The blue-boys are attacking in force!”

  Aylin griped my arm.

  “Nya!” Kione ran straight toward me. “Several hundred soldiers just crossed the bridge to the tradesmen’s corner. General Ipstan’s rallying a defense, but we weren’t expecting this many—we’re not ready for it!”

  Saints! All those people.

  “But what about the trap?” Aylin asked, face pale. “I thought the Duke wanted to keep us pinned and burn us out.”