Healer (31 page)

“See you cleared a path.” Glory checked
the vacant ship. Even the crew had stepped off to give them some privacy.
Slowly, she slipped from the embrace, her gaze cast down in humbleness. It was
in this move that the prince recognized an oncoming apology and remained
silent. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t until the ship set sail that I begin to
regret...”

“I’m sure you were just worried for your
family,” though he knew there was more to it than that.

“I wish it were that simple.” She finally
met that sapphire gaze, and was completely lost in them. “I didn’t even know
there
was
a war until you sent Shy.”

“So, what was it?”

Glory sighed. “Earlier, I had stopped
outside your room. When I heard you speaking with someone, it sounded...” She
paused, seeing how his eyebrows lowered in realization. “It sounded like...”

“I know what you heard,” he said softly.
When she looked away, he turned her attention back with a finger under her
chin. “Glory, if I thought not loving you anymore would protect you and your
family from what just happened, I would have given you back to Valor – if only
to keep you safe.”

“That traitor, you mean?” Lady Pena broke
the couple’s tension with her rich but sharp tone. A cultured dress of gold and
wine curved over slim hips as she strutted toward them. “What I would have
given to have him thrown in prison for his behavior!”

“My Lady?”
Wisdom slightly bowed to her in greeting, though
uneasiness was beginning to creep over him. The one encounter he had with the
wealthy fish merchant was enough to prove Glory’s mistrust toward him. Now he
wondered what opportunity the war may have offered. “What has he done?”

“Mother says he refused to...help
father...during the fight.” Glory’s voice caught, and she fought back tears at
the image of her father falling in battle.

“Mother?”
Used to her hot temper should anything but
‘stepmother’ be said, he was taken back by the correction. “But don’t you
mean..?”

“We’ve...reconciled a few things.” Glory
then lowered her voice. “Father didn’t make it.”

Wisdom checked Katherine and Shy, who
nodded with grim expressions.

“I was a moment too late,” Shy said.

“And he couldn’t be healed?”

“Snapped neck,” Katherine said. “You know
that’s instant...” Here, she stopped when Glory started tearing up.

“Oh, Glory.” Wisdom pulled her tight
against his chest until his chin rested lightly over her soft hair. “I’m so
sorry.” He lifted her hand to kiss it, wanting nothing but the world to be
right for her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have come myself. It’s just...I didn’t
want it to look like I was abandoning the clan when war was heading this way. I
needed
to be ready.”

“Well, it’s over now,” Lady Pena said,
watching the two embrace with renewed interest. “It complicates things, but if
Glory wishes to remain here...” A curious smile spread across her lips. “We
should probably talk about what to do with Lexington first.”

“Is it truly over?” Katherine asked to
Shy’s disapproving grumble. “Did Chronicles make it here at all?”

“Chronicles...” Glory pulled from the
embrace. “He’s your—”

“Watch it!” Shy suddenly thrust Katherine
behind him at the approach of another.

Wisdom quickly turned to the ascending
Healer on the ramp, but held up a hand to hold his brother’s challenging
position. Chronicles, however, remained calm until he stepped on deck. A silver
gaze locked with his younger son’s fiery glare of blazing emerald. With clasped
hands in front of him, he waited.

“It’s all right,
Shy
!”
Wisdom placed himself between the two. “He’s not the same anymore.”

“What do you mean ‘not the same’?” Shy
growled. “Do you know how many have died because of him?
In
Lexington alone?
And now you want me to believe he’s ‘not the same’?” He
brushed away Katherine’s reassuring hand.

“Do you not remember losing your memory to
a creature you couldn’t describe?” Chronicles asked his son in a soft tone.
“And yet you swore up and down that you saw something? That it...pushed you to
the edge until you had no choice but to jump. You have this vague hint of
remembering something, and yet when you try, nothing comes to mind.”

Shy remained silent with narrowed gaze.

“I, too, saw it. And like you, my memories
were erased. But with it went the ones that involved why I had wanted to help
humans, not eradicate them!”

“Shy, the horn has been using us the
entire time,” Wisdom said.
“You.
Me. Everyone was
affected. But I had counted on it showing the moment Chronicles stepped foot
here because all would be revealed at that time.” He took a breath. “We’d all
see who the true enemy was, and it’s not Chronicles.”

There was a brief moment for everyone to
consider the prince’s words. Wisdom even allowed his brother to sift through
his thoughts in hopes of satisfying any doubts.

Finally, Shy let out a sigh. “It didn’t
come soon enough.”

With heavy heart, Wisdom watched his
brother shift into an owl and fly out over the docks with Katherine following
closely behind, begging for him to wait.

“Guess we better be heading back,” the
prince suggested in a solemn tone. “We can discuss Lexington back at the clan.”
To his father, he added, “I’m sure you’ll have a chance to explain to
Shy
later.”

“Perhaps,” was his reply, as the group
moved down the ramp to disembark. “Although I’m not sure he’ll accept any of
it. You don’t just make things right by saying you’re sorry after years of
teaching hate.”

After a brief period of mingling with
those who had come off the ships, Wisdom led his small group back to the
Eastern Clan. The courtyard was alive with a mix of clansmen, townspeople and
Healers, each reliving their own experiences during the time of war. By now, it
was no secret about Wisdom’s father. Chronicles merely acknowledged those who
questioned or greeted him with polite nods and one-worded answers. To Wisdom,
his father’s thoughts suggested they make this quick, so they bypassed some of
the huddles to enter through the backyard.

It was near the far end of the garden
Wisdom heard Everest’s distinctive voice. Guessing she was with her two sons,
Wisdom entered the building and told his company to make themselves at home.
His father, being the last to enter, hesitated just inside the doorway with
attention drawn to the bordering woods.

Wisdom took a guess. “It’s
Shy
, isn’t it?”

“I’ll…be back shortly.”

“Do what you can.” Wisdom nodded, allowing
the door to shut behind him.

“It’s so good to be back!” Glory
exclaimed, relishing the coziness of the mansion.

As they headed down the hall toward the
main living area, Lady Pena scrutinized every inch of decor and servant they
came across. She awed over fine tapestries and throw rugs, along with a set of
cerulean and gold vases setup along the wall. The furnishings were suitable to
her tastes, and she was happy to sip some of the tea offered by the clan’s
talented cook.

“Glory,” Wisdom said after seating her
stepmother, “I’m sure your journey has been long and tiring. Why don’t you get
comfortable while
your
...mother and I get more
acquainted.”

“Running me off already?” Glory teased.

“On the contrary.
There’s
a few things I wish
to discuss first.”

“You still have your personal
servant,
do you not, my darling?” Lady Pena asked.

“Of course!”
Glory laughed. “But you know me. I like to do things
myself.” She gave the prince’s hand a good squeeze before heading back down the
hall. “Just don’t decide anything without me!”

“Such a waste, that
one!”
Lady Pena continued sipping
tea while Wisdom took a seat next to her. “By the way, red is
not
your color.”

Wisdom felt his cheeks warm at the comment
and glanced down at the crimson robe he now wore. He had not even noticed all
the dried mud caked around the garment’s hem and wished he had excused himself
first to change.

“But where are my manners?” Lady Pena
corrected herself in good humor. “This war has made everything a little off.
This is
your
place and I’m
your
guest. So please excuse if I seem a
bit touchy a times.”

Wisdom returned her smile. “You are a lady
of fine tastes and expect just as much. So will this suffice?” He weaved a hand
to cast an illusionary image of what he normally wore day to day. The appealing
midnight blue fabric trimmed in silver was enough to grant a nod of approval.

“Now,
that’s
worthy of a prince.” Placing her teacup on the tray, she settled back in her
chair with hands folded on her lap. “I’m not very good with this, as Roland
took care of everything.” She dabbed under an eye with her napkin and sniffed
several times. “That is to say, he
did
handle everything. Lexington was built using his expertise in architect.
Without him, I fear the city may never recover.”

“Did he supply most of the money?”

“He knew how to make it, too! I just knew
how to spend it. I’m used to that, you know.
Doting gifts and
riches.
It’s all I have.”

“No, you have Glory.
And
now me.”

“Well, at least
she
has some sense about her. I thought she deserved someone of
status. But that was what I wanted. Not that you don’t have that. I’m sure you
do. It’s just...”

She glanced around the candlelit room, its
dark interior framed by exposed wooden beams and blue-gray stone walls. There
were few hanging tapestries and only one rug where they sat. The furnishings
were plain, but comfortable. She glanced to her cup and saucer, a milky-white
with no decorations except on the pot containing tea.

“It’s not what I envisioned for myself,”
she said. “You see, I went after Valor for
myself
. But now, Roland wouldn’t
have wanted it for his daughter. I knew he didn’t, even though he never argued
the matter.” Her bottom lip quivered in silent anger as she recomposed herself
and sat up straight. “I must have seemed so uptight to you at Luxor’s ball.”

“You have an image to uphold, and a name
to keep,” the prince said. “And I completely understand that. But I must ask
you now in place of Master Roland. Glory means everything to me, and I’d rather
wait until you’re comfortable with what I can offer before asking anything
else.”

Lady Pena eyed him up and down a moment,
then
reached for her tea. “If you’re talking marriage, then
you must agree to help me with Lexington first.”

A grin.
“I think that was a done deal long ago.”

*****

Chronicles followed the scent of his younger
son out into the backyard. He could still hear harpy chatter and caught a hint
of white moving between scattered trees lining the garden paths. The various
chirps fit that of Chanté, so he merely assumed he was back with family.

He sniffed the air again. The scent of Shy
carried him opposite the Wings’ conversation. Over the stone wall that
separated neatly pruned garden from dense forest did Chronicles plunge into
thicket.
Shifting with ease, his black and gray wolf form
roamed the forest floor with flaring nostrils. When Shy’s scent intensified, he
knew he was close. Opened thoughts reached out to lightly touch any individuals
in the area. It was not long before he found two connections.

Can
we talk?
He gently tapped his mental
probe on a barrier his son thrust between them. His other connection remained
quiet, though he knew it was Shy’s female companion seen earlier on the ship.

A rustle of feathers caused his ears to
prick forward. Though he stared up through the mass of thick foliage, all he saw
were sprays of light and shadow playing over the multitude of boughs wavering
overhead. Eventually, a tawny owl began to make its way into the remains of
fading light. As the sun set, Chronicles kept his ears tuned to the bird’s
whereabouts until it finally alighted on a low branch and peered down at him.

“There’s
nothing to say,”
Shy hooted.

But
I know there are things you wish to tell me, things that need to be said.

And what of the others?
Shy switched to pure thought, though now and then he
made a few gurgling owl grunts in disapproval.
How can you expect them to accept, ‘Oh,
sorry, my mistake.’
It doesn’t
work that way!

Shy spread his wings to glide down and
join his father. Together, they shifted until both stood facing one another in
true form. The air suddenly felt thick with tension, so much that Chronicles
feared his son might challenge him. An ear pricked up at Katherine’s lighter
bird form settling somewhere above to listen. Carefully did the
Lo-ans’rel
leader pick his next set of
words to diffuse his son’s
temper.