Ferran's Map (20 page)

Lori put her sleeve to her nose. Unlike
Ferran, she was not immune to the plague. All of the Healers and
priestesses wore gloves on their hands, scarves around their hair,
and handkerchiefs tied around their faces. She hoped the strength
of the Goddess would protect them as well.

“Seen enough?” Ferran asked.

Lori shook her head. “I need to speak to the
headmaster,” she said. “I need to warn the school about the plague
and the Dark God. The best way to disperse the Shade’s power is to
expose them.”

“Humph,” Ferran muttered around his pick.
“If you think they’ll believe it.”

“They’ll have to,” Lori murmured, looking
around again at the camp of sick refugees. How else could anyone
explain this level of illness?

The path cleared ahead of her and Lori took
a direct course forward. The seminary’s wrought iron gates stood
wide open. Cots, stretchers and even haystacks filled the outdoor
pavilion, where the sick lay moaning and coughing.

Lori and Ferran continued straight through
the courtyard of the seminary to the front doors. No one stopped
them. No one asked who they were. No one even looked up from their
work.

Once inside, Lori looked around the familiar
flagstone landing. A twisting staircase proceeded upward directly
in front of her to the seminary’s central tower. To her left
resided the urgent sick bay, to her right, the children’s ward. But
where would she find the headmaster?

Lori led Ferran up the spiral staircase. The
first place to look would be the headmaster’s study.

Three flights of stairs later, Lori found
herself before a solid oak door. A series of dents and scratches
where students had vented their frustrations marred its base. She
remembered kicking it a time or two herself. She stood in this very
place more than a decade ago when she first came to the seminary,
homeless and looking for any sort of work: cleaning, mucking out
the stables, mending or cooking or….

But Headmaster Duncan noticed her skill in
the garden and how thoroughly she performed the most mundane tasks.
He saw her potential. She owed him too much—her life, really.

She raised her hand to knock, but the sound
of voices reached her.

“It’s repulsive,” a clipped male voice
asserted, “to have all these filthy peasants polluting our city
with their disease. We must do something about it!”

“King Royce has the final say,” a weary, if
familiar, voice replied. Lori’s ears perked up. If Headmaster
Duncan was still in charge, she might have a chance at being heard.
“The nobility aren’t the only ones who call this city home. Most of
the lower class are visiting their families for winter solstice.
They’ll leave again within a few weeks….”

“And leave the city reeking of their
contagious residue? You’re not so naive, Duncan. You know how
illness spreads. Think of the citizens who still have their health!
We must shut the city gates at once. King Royce won’t sign the
decree, but perhaps, honorable Headmaster, if you spoke with
him…?”

Silence. Lori waited. That heavy voice
asserted itself again. “You must see it’s to the city’s benefit. My
only concern is for the strength of the Kingdom. Should King Royce
himself fall ill….”

A longer silence ensued.

“I will have to think on it,” the headmaster
replied gravely. “Is there anything else, Lord Cedric? As you can
see, I have more than enough work to keep me occupied….”

A chill ran down Lori’s spine at that name:
Lord Cedric.
She almost stepped back from the door. Here, of
all places—and now, of all times!

The oak door opened abruptly and Lori stood
face to face with Lord Cedric Daniellian.

At first he looked right through her, just
as a lord would look at a peasant. For a fleeting moment, she
thought he might not recognize her, and he would breeze past her
like he would any other serf.

But then his eyes narrowed.

They stared at one another. Lori felt cursed
with bad luck. She didn’t greet him, and he didn’t speak. What
could she say to the man who once tried to kill her?

She stepped out of the way. Lord Daniellian
walked stiffly past Sora and Ferran. His dark velvet cloak swirled
around his heels. She watched him pass down the hall. Somehow, the
First Tier always appeared more vibrant than the average commoner:
well dressed, polished and poised. They had the wealth to afford
sophisticated clothes, beautiful mates and overly educated
offspring. Yes, the Daniellians were a fine-looking, intelligent
family, with ash-blond hair and sky blue eyes. But their pale hair
matched their hearts, which ran white-cold with ice.

“Well, Cedric looks about as jovial as I
remember him,” Ferran muttered by her side. “Does he know you?”

Lori shrugged uncomfortably. She watched
until he disappeared down the staircase. “Wait here for me,” she
replied without explanation. Then she swiftly entered the
headmaster’s office.

Headmaster Duncan stood behind his desk,
gathering a stack of parchment in his arms. He wore heavy white
robes hemmed with purple brocade around the collar, and a gold
medallion at his neck bearing the King’s royal seal, which meant he
now served on the royal counsel. Lori stood quietly for a moment,
taking in the sight. The robe hadn’t changed at all, and he had
aged surprisingly well over the decade since she’d last seen him.
His hair, once gleaming blond, was now completely white. But it
remained full and wavy, and his skin still held a healthy glow. The
only true difference were his eyes, which looked heavy and bruised
from lack of sleep.

He paused when he saw her. His face widened
in recognition, then his lips pulled into a strained, slightly
bemused smile.

“Surprised?” Lori broke the silence.

He raised an eyebrow. “Of course—and not at
all, really,” he said. “Lorianne Blithe, one of our less
conventional students. I suppose I expected you to wander back to
this office at some point, but I didn’t think it would take this
long.” A wry smile cracked his lips. “Get lost in the Smokeshaft
District again?”

Lori chuckled. “Wandered a bit further than
that, I’m afraid.”

Headmaster Duncan nodded thoughtfully. His
eyes trailed about the room, caught by some distant memory. Then
his expression darkened. “Did Cedric see you on his way out?”

She nodded.

“Humph,” Duncan muttered. “I’m pleased to
see you…but you really shouldn’t have come back. And I can’t say
many of our staff will be happy to see you…the older ones, you
know.”

Lori hesitated. Given the plague and her
past years of travel, her scandal with Cedric seemed very long ago.
Still, the heaviness of those memories filled the room. She had
fled the seminary in quite a hurry, leaving Duncan to sort out the
mess she left behind. And quite a mess it had been, beginning with
a false accusation, and ending with an attempt on her life.

Duncan must have skillfully navigated those
waters and put the issue to rest, given Lord Cedric’s recent visit.
He was the seminary’s largest patron and almost all of the school’s
funds came from his very deep pockets. He might as well own the
building, the grounds, and everyone within them.

For a brief moment, she was tempted to
defend herself, but she took the higher road.

“I wish I had more time to catch up,” she
said directly. “But I have important information about this strange
illness infecting the city. Do you have a few minutes?”

The headmaster’s eyes slid to the small,
ornate clock on his desk. “With this many patients, and Lord
Cedric’s rant still ringing in my ears?” he muttered. “I have about
five minutes.”

Lori grinned quietly to herself. They were
friends once. She knew they had unsorted business, but perhaps they
could leave it behind. She began her tale quietly, so as not to be
heard by anyone outside the door.

She held his attention for a full two
minutes before she realized her mistake. She got as far as the
Shade’s involvement, but after seeing the headmaster’s face, she
didn’t try to explain the magic of the Sixth Race or the Cat’s-Eye
stones. All too late, Lori imagined what she must look like—a
Healer who, last the headmaster recalled, caused bad business with
one of the most powerful families in the realm, then ran off. Now,
after many years of obscurity, she returned with news of a magical
plague and a rising Dark God only mentioned in storybooks. Duncan
didn’t know her that well any more. Perhaps he never had. She
probably looked liked a raving lunatic in his eyes.

Lori allowed her story to dwindle to a
hesitant conclusion. She should have approached him after finding
The Book of the Named
. At least then she might have some
evidence. Hopefully Sora was doing better at the Wind Temple.

“Lorianne…as you well know, all Healers
serve the Goddess,” the headmaster began slowly, “but we must be
careful of superstition. You have a sharp mind. I’m sure you’ve
also come to the conclusion that this disease spreads from the
farmlands in the lower plains. But this business with the Dark
God?” He shook his head wearily. “Prayers can heal the mind, and
perhaps even the body, if one is blessed…but to call this disease a
curse, and to say it was caused by magic….” He sighed, and the
wrinkles on his face deepened.

Lori worried her lip again, wondering if she
should tell him about Ferran’s Cat’s-Eye necklace. At least that
much she could prove. But the consequences could be extreme. If
they knew Ferran could cure the plague, they wouldn’t let him
leave, and his stone had limitations….He couldn’t possibly cure
everyone in the seminary, not even on the first floor.

News would spread fast. He’d be a wanted man
for as long as they stayed in the city. The Shade would catch
wind….

“How bad is it?” she asked softly,
indicating the courtyard out the window.

Headmaster Duncan removed his spectacles and
rubbed them on the sleeve of his grand white robes. “The worst I’ve
ever seen,” he said briefly. “I suppose you heard Cedric harping
about closing the city gates? We might have to, if this illness
endangers the King….”

“Is it very bad in the city?”

“Not yet, but worsening,” he said.
“Especially now, with winter solstice and so many visitors. But we
are trying to contain the infected areas. Most of the sick are on
the West bank….” He said
West bank
with a familiar sort of
distaste, as one might say
garbage heap
. “Most of our
patients came from farmlands farther south. They say the illness
spread from their livestock, which is worrisome.”

“Rare, that a disease travels from animals
to humans,” Lori agreed, though she had reached the same conclusion
months ago.

“Aye,” he murmured. “Rare indeed. It makes
me wonder if the livestock aren’t the culprit at all. Perhaps it
comes from the plants, which means it came from the soil. It could
be in our food supply.”

Lori sat back. She hadn’t considered that. A
long, slow breath escaped her lungs. “Harvest season has
passed….”

“Yes, but what do we do come spring? If the
Kingdom’s soil is somehow tainted with this disease… who knows how
far it has spread, and from what region….Seeds fly faster on the
wind than an ox on foot!” Headmaster Duncan leaned forward and put
his head in his hands. The weight of his concern seemed to darken
the room, or perhaps it was the heaviness of the clouds outside of
the window. “Was there anything more you needed, Lori? I have a
busy day ahead.”

“Ah….” Lori paused. She shifted from one
foot to another, wondering what more she could say. Had this all
been a waste of time? “Cedric is still a patron of the seminary, I
take it?” she ventured.

Duncan gave her a pointed stare. “He is. And
we’ve moved past your little incident. But we can’t shelter you
here, Lori. I won’t defend your name to him. He’s our most generous
patron, and in a time like this, to lose that funding….”

Lori held up her hands. “I wasn’t asking to
stay,” she said quickly.

Duncan seemed relieved. “Well, the Goddess
has Her eyes on you, I’m sure,” he said. Then, more seriously, “I’d
stay away from The Regency while you’re in the city.”

Lori nodded. Her throat tightened slightly.
She rose from her chair. “Headmaster,” she said, and nodded
formally.

He returned the gesture. “Healer Lorianne,”
he said. “Good day, and I sincerely hope you find what you’re
looking for. Despite all that happened in the past, I am glad to
see you alive and well.” He raised an eyebrow. “And I mean
that.”

Lori smiled weakly. “Same to you, Duncan,”
she said. Then she let herself out of the study.

Lori rejoined Ferran in the hallway outside.
She shook her head wordlessly when she saw his curious expression.
“I’ll tell you outside,” she murmured, and headed for the staircase
in a dismal mood.

Her trip to the seminary felt like a
complete waste of time. She saw no sign of the Shade or
The Book
of the Named
. The Healers weren’t going to help them, and she
doubted that the priestesses would be of much use, especially if
they thought the plague was a natural illness. She also doubted
that Sora and her companions would have much luck. The Temple of
the North Wind would be overrun by more superstitious
types—backwater farmers, river folk and villagers from the
mountains. The priestesses would be too focused on tending the sick
to actually look at the source of the disease. The Dark God could
rise tomorrow and they probably wouldn’t know it.

Worse than a waste of time,
Lori
thought. Cedric Daniellian had seen her face-to-face. His tense
silence still made her lungs constrict. She couldn’t let him see
her again. As she went down the spiraling staircase, her mind
suddenly jumped ahead to the seminary gates. Would he be waiting
for her outside? Could the nobility truly hold a grudge for so
long? From what she had witnessed among the upper tiers and her own
shameful marriage to Lord Fallcrest, she believed the answer could
be yes.