The Chronicles Of Ixia. Books 1-6. Maria Snyder V.

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      “How?”

      “I draw power to me. Then I focus on the injury. Skin and muscles disappear before my eyes, revealing the bones. I use the power to encourage the bone to mend. It works the same for other injuries. My eyes will only see the wound. It is truly wonderful.”

      Hayes’s eyes glowed with purpose, but when they shifted to Tula they dimmed. “Unfortunately, some injuries just can’t be healed, and the mind is so complex that any damage is usually permanent. We have a few mind healers. Fourth Magician is the strongest of these, but even she can only do so much.”

      As Hayes focused on Tula, I felt the air around me thicken and pulsate. Drawing a breath became an effort. Then Hayes closed his eyes. Without thinking, I linked my mind with his. Through him I saw Tula’s hand. Her skin became translucent, showing the battered pink fibrous muscles attached to the bones. I saw strands of power, thin as spiderwebs, wrapped around Hayes’s hands. He wove the webs around the crack in Tula’s bone. As I watched, the crack disappeared and then the muscles healed.

      I broke the mental connection to Hayes and looked at Tula. The bruises had faded from her now straight index finger. The air thinned as the power faded. His forehead shone with sweat and his breath puffed from the effort he’d just expended.

      “Now, you try,” he said.

      I moved closer to Tula and took her hand from Hayes. Holding her middle finger, I rubbed it lightly with my thumb as I pulled power to me, revealing the bone. Hayes gasped. I paused.

      “Go on,” he said.

      My strands of power were rope thick. When I applied the strands to the bone, they wrapped around it like a noose. I pulled back, fearing her finger would snap in half.

      Placing her hand back on the bed, I looked at Hayes. “Sorry. I don’t have full control of my magic yet.”

      He stared at Tula’s hand. “Look.”

      Both fingers appeared to have been healed.

      “How do you feel?” he asked.

      Using magic usually left me tired, but I really hadn’t used any. Or had I? “About the same.”

      “Three healings and I need to nap.” Hayes shook his head. His dark hair fell into his eyes. He swiped his bangs back with an impatient hand. “You just mended a bone effortlessly. Fate be with us,” he said. Awe and fear roughened his voice. “Once you have full control, you may be able to wake the dead.”

       15

      FEAR SURGED THROUGH ME, leaving my muscles trembling.

      “No,” I said to Hayes. “You must be mistaken. No one can wake the dead.”

      Hayes rubbed a hand over his tired eyes, reconsidering.

      “Perhaps I spoke rashly,” he agreed. “Only one person in our history could revive the dead.” He shuddered. “And the results were truly horrible.”

      I wanted to ask more questions, but Hayes bolted toward the door, insisting he had work to do.

      Feeling odd and unsettled, I peered at Tula’s motionless form. Through her blanket and skin, I could see each of her injuries. It seemed now that I had learned this new ability, I couldn’t turn it off. The fractures, sprains, bruises all pulsed with an urgent red light. The more I studied the light the more it drew my mind in, and I felt Tula’s physical pain soak into me. In sudden agony, I collapsed onto the floor.

      Curling into a ball, I squeezed my eyes shut. A small part of me knew the pain was imaginary, but, in panic, I still tried to push the torment away. I pulled power from the source. Magic filled me. The buildup crackled across my skin like fire. I released the power.

      My scream resounded through the room as cool relief swept through me, quenching my pain. Drained of energy, I remained on the floor, panting.

      “Yelena, are you all right?”

      I opened my eyes. Hayes hovered over me in concern. I nodded. “Tula?”

      He left my side. “She’s fine.”

      I sat up. The room spun for a moment but I forced myself to focus.

      “What happened?” Hayes asked.

      I wanted to say that I had lost control, to explain that my old survival instincts had kicked in, reacting to the pain without conscious thought. But it hadn’t felt quite like that, and to admit that I had lost control would be dangerous. Uncontrolled magicians could damage the power source and the Masters would be forced to kill me. Instead, I clamped my lips together, trying to bring some order to my jumbled thoughts.

      Before I could speak, Hayes said, “You healed her other two fingers.”

      He stood next to Tula’s bed, and held her left hand up. Hayes inspected her fingers before laying her arm across her stomach.

      Then he turned to me with a frown. “You shouldn’t have tried that without me. No wonder you screamed. You gathered too much power and had to release it.” Hayes gestured to my prone form. “A beginner’s mistake, and now you’re exhausted. You really need to work on your control.”

      While helping me to my feet, Hayes’s frown softened into what might have been relief. “You have the ability to heal, but need guidance. I misjudged you at first, thinking you might be a Soulfinder.” Hayes huffed out a laugh. “Next time, wait for me. Okay?”

      Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded.

      Hayes guided me toward the door. “Get some rest. You’ll probably be weak for a few days.”

      As I shuffled to the apprentice’s wing, I replayed the events in my mind, and by the time I collapsed into my bed, I managed to almost convince myself that Hayes’s explanation was correct. Almost.

      Fatigue dogged me all through the next day. Bain’s morning lesson passed in a blur. Instead of reading, I napped the afternoon away, and fought to stay awake while riding Kiki that night. Cahil’s bellowing eventually pierced the fog in my mind.

      “Yelena!”

      I looked at him as if seeing him for the first time that evening. Coated with dirt and horse hair, his once-white cotton shirt clung to his muscular frame. Annoyance creased his forehead. His mouth moved in speech, but it took me a moment to discern his words.

      “… distracted, exhausted, and you’re going to get hurt.”

      “Hurt?” I asked.

      “Yes, hurt. When you fall asleep in the saddle and slide off the horse.” Cahil controlled his frustration, but I could see by the way he pumped his clenched fists that he wanted to shake some sense into me.

      Lavender Lady tired. Kiki agreed. Forgot apples.

      “Yelena, go home.” Cahil took Kiki’s reins to hold her steady while I dismounted.

      Home? Unbidden, the image of my small СКАЧАТЬ