The Law of Isolation (25 page)

Rolie raised clenched fists. “You promised!”

“I’m sorry.” He reached to stroke her hair, but she jerked away. “Please, you have to go home. As soon as we get back I’ll come find you.”

Sar came up beside Josiah. He stood poised, muscles taut, ears erect and fixed on Mathir. Nina leaped from his head to Mathir’s shoulder, claws scrabbling to find a purchase on his tunic. He flinched and put up a hand to steady her. She chattered urgently in his ear.

“She didn’t mean anything by it.” Mathir tried to stroke Nina’s head, but she whisked around and raced down his body. She went to Rolie’s feet and rose to her hind legs, her voice rasping and clicking at the bewildered girl.

“Mathir, make it stop.” Rolie stepped back, but the squirrel followed her and continued her harangue.

“She likes you.” Mathir’s voice was falsely bright. He flinched as Nina whirled and dashed to his feet, shrieking at him. “I’m not hiding anything from you! I swear by the Mother!”

Josiah shook himself free from stupefied confusion. “Mathir, what’s going on?” He looked from Mathir to Nina to Rolie. A sick feeling of dread churned in his gut. “What did you ask her to do?”

“Nothing!” Mathir shouted. “Stop asking me that, both of you!”

Rolie gaped back and forth between Nina and Josiah. She shut her mouth with a snap and took a step toward Mathir. “Heal me right now, or I’ll tell them everything.”

“All right!” Mathir grabbed for Nina. His hands closed around the squirrel’s body, though she writhed to free herself. “Please, Nina, just this once—”

She sank her teeth into the ball of his thumb and he dropped her. She hit the ground hard, sprawling. He stared at her in horror as she gathered her feet under her and crouched, hissing at him. “Nina…” he whispered.

Sar shoved himself against Josiah’s side. Josiah’s hand went reflexively to the donkey’s back.
Josiah, the situation is out of control. You must take charge.

Josiah couldn’t even formulate a coherent thought, just numb agreement. He put up his hand, and gold light pooled around it. He cleared his throat. “Mathir, stop. Tell me what’s going on.”

Mathir stared at the power swirling around Josiah’s hand, mouth open. His eyes shifted around, seeking vainly for some escape. Then he broke and ran toward the river.

Sar sent the Mother’s power spinning out after him. Before Mathir had gone half a dozen steps, the light surrounded his body and froze him in place.

Josiah’s hand shook. What was he supposed to do now?
Sar, we can’t just hold him. We’ve got to figure out a way to get him to cooperate before someone comes looking for us.

This has gone beyond what we can deal with. You’re going to have to take him to the masters.

No! They can’t find out. There’s got to be some way—

Josiah, from what the girl said, it seems he made some demand of her in exchange for agreeing to heal her. Do I need to remind you how grave a breach of the Mother’s trust that is?

No, he didn’t. Josiah knew. If it was true, it was an offense serious enough to justify a broken bond. He looked at Nina, who stood hissing at Mathir, back hunched, tail stuck out behind her, every hair on her body standing straight out so she looked twice her normal size.

He gave up. “I’m sorry, Mathir,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ve got to do this.”

He turned to the audience that had gathered and were watching in shocked silence. Master Jomin knelt by Azien, his arms around his son. Josiah cleared his throat. “Come with me, all of you. We can’t keep this a secret anymore. I hope they’ll still let me help you.”

Heartsick, he turned away. How had he ever hoped to keep the whole ridiculous subterfuge going? Had Mathir really thought he could get away with demanding some illicit favor from Rolie? Wizards didn’t do such things!

He pressed his hand into Sar’s warm back. His familiar wrenched Mathir around with the Mother’s power and sent him stumbling toward the main camp. Josiah followed. The others trailed silently behind.

The camp was still quiet when they approached. Only a few people gathered around the remains of the fire. They were just starting to glance toward Josiah and the others with puzzled expressions when Tobi bounded up. Her ears perked toward them, the gray oval smudge of the Mother’s mark showing clearly in one. Instead of her usual affectionate greeting for Josiah, she skidded to a halt and took in the whole tableau with her intelligent eyes.

Josiah dropped his eyes. “Tell Elkan I need him,” he muttered.

Tobi stared for an instant more before loping off toward the tents. Josiah followed, his feet dragging. Sar pushed Mathir along with them.

Elkan emerged from their tent. Crouching, he put his arms around Tobi and gazed into her eyes. He cast a confirming glance toward Josiah, leaned his forehead against Tobi’s for a moment, then straightened and pushed his fingers through his hair. He drew himself up to his full height and rested a hand on Tobi’s head. “Hanion, you’d better get out here.”

Josiah approached him with a mixture of dread and relief. No matter what punishment he faced, at least he could turn over the responsibility for dealing with Mathir to those who were older and wiser. “Master, I… I’m sorry, but I can explain… There’s a problem…”

“I can see that.” Elkan looked every bit as stern as he’d feared. He held Josiah’s eyes for a long moment before letting his gaze travel over Sar, Mathir, and the group of patients behind them. “This is going to be quite a story.”

Nina left her post beside Sar and bounded to Elkan’s feet. She stood on her hind legs and chattered at him. He nodded to her respectfully. “We’ll help you deal with Mathir in any way you need.”

She subsided, apparently satisfied, and took up a position next to him, eyes fixed on her bondmate. Mathir stood, head hanging, making no attempt to struggle against the gold light that held him motionless.

Master Hanion stepped out of his tent, Mavke close at his heels. His initial shock at seeing his apprentice bound quickly gave way to cold anger. “Mathir, what’s the meaning of this?”

Sar glanced at Hanion, who nodded. Mavke pressed against Hanion’s shin, where one leg of his breeches was rolled up so the bulldog could make contact with his partner’s skin. Hanion put up his hand and gold light flickered around his fingertips. “Let him go so he can speak. We’ll take over if necessary.”

Sar let the Mother’s power fade away. Josiah sighed in relief and put his hand down. Mathir gave a little jerk as the light released him, but didn’t try to flee. He shifted from foot to foot and seemed to shrink in on himself. “It’s not what it looks like, master,” he mumbled. “I can explain everything.”

“Do so.” Master Hanion crossed his arms over his chest. The light around his fingers faded, but Mavke remained alert. “Start at the beginning. Why are these people here?”

“Could I sit down, maybe…?” At his master’s silent glower, matched by Elkan and the other wizards who’d come to witness the confrontation, Mathir trailed off and shifted his weight again. “I guess not. Anyway. Back in Elathir, before we left, a bunch of us apprentices got together. None of us wanted to leave behind the people who would suffer without regular healing. It wasn’t just Josiah and me, Braon and Seriti and Kalti were there, too.”

Hanion gave a little jerky nod, but didn’t speak. Mathir waited a moment, then plowed on with his story. “We all agreed it wasn’t right. So I went around to everyone and told them to follow us, that we would come out every day and heal them. All we wanted was to use the Mother’s power the way we’re supposed to. To help people! Isn’t that right, Josiah?”

He turned to Josiah, a plea in his eyes. Josiah took a deep breath. “Yes. We believed it wasn’t the Mother’s will to let them suffer and die while we went off and did something else.” He lifted his head and met Elkan’s pitiless eyes. He didn’t regret that choice. He didn’t. He still thought it was the right one.

“So they did. And we went out and healed them every morning. Nina said it was within the Mother’s will, so she wouldn’t refuse.”

“Sar did, too.” Josiah put in. “He said it was our choice to make.”

Elkan looked at the donkey. “Sar?”

Sar flicked an ear forward and bobbed his head. Elkan looked thoughtful. “Go on.”

“So, that’s everything.” Mathir twisted his hands together behind his back. “Until Rolie showed up this morning. I guess she must have gotten mad that I wouldn’t help her, because she started accusing me of things I didn’t do. I swear I didn’t!” He glared at Rolie.

Rolie glared back at him. “All they have to do is open a window and look, and they’ll see exactly what you did. I hope they throw you out of the Wizards’ Guild for it!”

“You’re only saying that because we’re too far away for a window to—”

“Quiet!” Hanion didn’t raise a gold-lit hand again, but his voice was so forceful he didn’t need to. Mathir and Rolie left off their accusations and shrank before him. “Girl, I recognize you from the Mother’s Hall. You suffer from a skin condition, is that right? Remind me of your name.”

“Rolie Fisherkin Tailor, sir.”

“You’re an apprentice?”

“Fourth-year, sir.”

Hanion spoke slowly and clearly. “I want you to tell us exactly what happened between you and Mathir. You need not be afraid to give the full details of whatever complaint you may have against him. The Mother will bear witness to the truth.”

Rolie looked at Mathir, then back at his master. She shifted her weight and looked down at the ground. Then she took a deep breath, and lifted her chin. “It was the night before the wizards left Elathir. He came to my house to tell me good-bye. We—we’d been seeing each other sometimes. Just talking, mostly.” Her eyes flickered down, and the pale patch on her cheek flushed bright pink. “And… kissing, sometimes. He said we couldn’t let you find out.”

Hanion’s frown deepened and he turned his stare on Mathir. Mathir hung his head. Hanion turned back to Rolie. “I understand. Go on.”

“He told me about the wheat, and how all the wizards would be leaving. How no one in Elathir could be healed until they came back. I knew that meant my patches would get worse, so I begged him to do something. To stay behind, or let me come with him. He said there was nothing he could do. That he didn’t dare go against what the masters said. Unless… Unless I made it worth it for him.”

Josiah stared at Mathir in shock. Rolie certainly sounded like she was telling the truth. But he couldn’t believe any wizard apprentice would say such a thing. Mathir scowled at him.

Hanion seemed momentarily overcome by emotion. His mouth moved, but no words came out. Elkan took up the questioning smoothly. “What did he ask you to do?” When Rolie only studied her feet and didn’t respond, he softened his voice, infusing it with the gentle kindness he was so good at. “As Master Hanion said, you need have no fear. We won’t judge you, whatever happened.” When she still didn’t answer, he dropped his voice even quieter. “If you’d feel more comfortable speaking to one of the female wizards in private—”

“No.” Rolie flicked her eyes up at him, then dropped her gaze to her clenched hands. “
I
did nothing wrong. Mathir told me he would let me come with him, and continue to heal me, if I agreed to sleep with him.”

Josiah felt like he’d been punched in the gut. From the indrawn breaths and sounds of disbelief and shock from the other wizards, he wasn’t the only one. Nina flattened herself to the ground, trembling.

Mathir opened his mouth. “She’s ly—”

Gold light shot from Elkan and Hanion in unison, bathing him and freezing his tongue. “You may speak when Rolie is finished,” Elkan said. “You’ll have the opportunity to answer her accusation. We’ll take no action without proof.” He turned back to Rolie. “Go on.”

She lifted her chin and glared at Mathir. “I said no. I told him I’d rather have all my skin go white than let him coerce me like that. He kept trying to persuade me for a while, but eventually gave up and left. He went off the next day, and I stayed behind.” Her hand crept up and rubbed the patch on her cheek. “But then the spot started spreading, and I kept looking in the mirror and seeing how it was getting uglier and uglier, and I thought—maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. I’d liked him, before. I liked kissing him. I still didn’t want to, but if that’s what it took…”

“Thank you, Rolie. I know that must have been difficult for you.” Elkan looked at Hanion, but the other master shook his head. Hanion dropped the hand keeping golden light focused on Mathir and sank into a crouch. He put both hands on Mavke, who whined and licked his fingers.

Elkan turned to Mathir. “We’re going to free you so you can speak. Don’t address Rolie. Speak only to us. If you can’t be civil, we’ll silence you again. Do you understand?”

The golden light withdrew from Mathir’s head enough to allow him to nod. Elkan dropped his hand and Tobi ended the flow of the Mother’s power.

Mathir gazed defiantly into Elkan’s eyes. “I didn’t do what she said. I only told her that I couldn’t help. That the only people who could come with us were the ones who would die without the Mother’s power. She was angry at me. She must have made up that story to try to force me to cooperate.”

Josiah didn’t know what to believe. They both sounded like they were telling the truth. He glanced at Sar, but the donkey was impassive.

Elkan nodded slowly, studying Mathir and Rolie. He sighed and turned his attention to the other patients, who’d watched everything in silence. “Master Jomin, tell me what happened when Mathir came to you.”

Jomin passed Azien, who he’d been holding, to Ilcha. He stepped forward and addressed Elkan with a clear voice and a steady gaze. “I stand by what I did. My son is alive today because of Mathir and Josiah, when you would have let him die. They are true servants of the Mother.”

It was only because Josiah knew Elkan so well that he saw the tightening of his master’s fingers in Tobi’s fur and heard the slight strain in his voice. “Tell me what happened.”

Jomin nodded. “Mathir came to me that night. He said Josiah had told him that we were willing to do whatever it took to make it possible for Azien to continue to receive the Mother’s power. I told him that was true. He said the two of them were able to help some patients, but only a few. Only those who showed their need was greatest by what they were willing to give. So of course I offered everything we had. He assured me it was enough. He told me that you would be heading upriver and that we could follow. I gave him all the money we had on hand and promised to withdraw the rest of our savings from the Bankers’ Guild when we returned.”