Keepers of the Flame. Robin D. Owens

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ “Thank you. We have lost several from this dread disease, but not one so young. He is an only child of a widow and his mother treasures him. Thank you.”

      Bri inclined her head. Elizabeth pressed her lips together. In regret that she hadn’t helped cure the boy? In denial that she could have helped with…magic?

      Marian’s mouth curved in a smile that Bri distrusted. The Sorceress held out a little bottle. “One drop of this would banish that language barrier for an hour, though you both seem to know French.”

      “A little,” Elizabeth said.

      “Some,” Bri said.

      “No,” they said together as they stared at the bottle.

      Marian’s smile faded. She tilted her head in the direction of the door. “Additional patients await you outside. It will be more efficient if you can speak well to direct us.”

      Alexa said, “We all work in healing circles, but we haven’t been able to effect any cures. More cases surface every day, more deaths every week.”

      Do we dare leave here? Elizabeth asked.

      Bri licked her lips. They sound as if they need us.

      “Why does everyone have to be bribed to take the potions?” Marian said.

      The blond woman who was dressed all in leathers, Calli, smiled at this. “Oh, just because we’re not stupid.” She glanced at the twins. “It does work.”

      Cocking her head, Bri said, “What’s the bribe?”

      “I answer every question you have for two hours,” Marian said promptly.

      “If this is really a different place, you promise to send us home,” Bri countered.

      “Can’t be done,” Marian said, with a finality that left no argument. She gestured to the groups of people drifting toward them. “It took all of us to Summon you here. Returning you is an even greater feat.”

      The big door was flung open and a hysterical woman shot in. She saw the boy and shrieked, grabbed him. Bri and Elizabeth moved instinctively, then checked as the woman began kissing his face all over, hugging him tight, tears pouring from her eyes.

      Moaning came from outside. Twin? asked Elizabeth.

      Bri squared her shoulders, tried a hard expression as she looked at Marian. “You three know English and this mangled French. You can translate.”

      “Three days,” Marian said. She drew herself up. “I’ll be at your disposal for three days.”

      “Take her up on it,” Alexa advised.

      Bri’s hand met Elizabeth’s and they linked fingers as if they were little girls again. Bri felt wonder, the willingness to heal…. “We don’t anticipate being here three days,” Bri said. “Someone will find us in the elevator.”

      “Elevator?” Alexa sounded fascinated. “You came here by elevator?”

      They left the room for a covered outdoor portico. Before them was a huge courtyard surrounded by dark shapes of buildings like a medieval Castle in excellent condition.

      The air! Elizabeth said.

      Much more humid than Denver.

      No traffic sounds.

      The smells are different, too. Rain, wet stone, even the people smelled subtly different than any other culture Bri’d visited.

      Sevair Masif turned right, toward the sound of moaning. A tide of pain swept to Bri from Elizabeth, who’d gotten hit first. Her twin doubled over. Bri bent down and hugged her, reached again for the energy flow, felt it rush as if a faucet had been turned on above her. The current washed away the echoes of pain, let her put a thin bubble of protection between her and their patients’ hurting. She helped Elizabeth erect mental shields.

      Sevair had stopped and turned to observe them.

      Bri became aware of reverberating sound—this time thready melodies that pulled at her heart with a yearning to mend. She was still considering the strange notion that she could hear tunes coming from people when Elizabeth straightened, squeezed her hand, then crossed the stone courtyard with a steady step. Her sister headed to a covered walk along what looked like a Castle keep—cloisters, with lacy stone half-walls and open “windows.”

      Elizabeth looked down the walk, her emotions amplified and easily felt by Bri. Pity. Hope. Most of all, the desire to help, to heal. She looked at Bri.

      “Are you with me?”

      They exchanged a glance. Bri could almost see the reflection of herself in Elizabeth’s eyes, knew Elizabeth thought of her as a new-age rebel exploring fringe healing. Did Elizabeth sense how Bri saw her—a buttoned-down doctor?

      Someone cried out. Elizabeth flinched. “You saved a life.” And I stood aside, she added mentally, blinking hard.

      Don’t beat yourself up. I took a familiar risk.

      Elizabeth sighed. I’m willing to risk it with you. “Can we heal fifteen?”

      “We won’t know until we try. We’ll give it our best shot.”

      Elizabeth nodded. Bri hurried over, all too aware of otherness surrounding her. She joined Elizabeth and saw cots set up all along the walkway.

      Elizabeth sent red-headed Marian a cool glance. “Take us to the worst cases, first.” Marian spoke to a man and a woman who wore red tunics with white crosses on them, and they went to the far end of the corridor. Elizabeth and Bri followed.

      Glancing down as she followed her very impressive twin, Bri saw that the people were definitely different from those who’d been in the round building. Their clothes were shabbier, seemed more lower and middle class. She clenched her jaw; she wanted to help. Elizabeth had positioned herself on one side of a pallet. Bri took the opposite side. Elizabeth had also set her teeth.

      Relax, she sent to Elizabeth, opening her own mouth to ease her jaw muscles.

      I am relaxed.

      Check your jaw and shoulders.

      Elizabeth stiffened, then moved a little, loosening her shoulders and her stance. She took a slow breath in and relaxed her muscles as she exhaled. When she looked at Bri, her eyes gleamed from a pale face. All this strangeness was getting to them both, but the restless shifting and the sheer hurt of the sick people around them demanded their attention.

      Other people had followed, most standing in the courtyard outside the cloister windows. The three Caucasian women—Alexa, Marian, and Calli—remained near.

      Bri stepped up to their first patient, an elderly woman. The woman had a slow, thin tune with little embellishments. Bri put her left hand on her head.

      Yes, said Elizabeth, you take her head. I don’t trust myself to send the proper amount of energy to her head. A shiver rippled through her.

      It was cooler here, especially in the stone cloister walk, СКАЧАТЬ