COP S1.7 In Search of a Healer
The shadows were long and dark by the time the outline of Yiat rose from the horizon.
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Previously on…
Lyn caught up with Steffan who maintained her aloof and pissed-off attitude. Still, at Lyn’s urging, she stopped at some ruins to let her horse rest. While there, Steffan tries to drink from a fountain but ends up nearly dead with a visible curse spreading out from her purple lips. Lyn nearly succumbed to the same curse, but pulls away in time. She brings Steffan to the nearest town who lock their doors and tell her to leave, not wanting anything to do with cursed Steffan.
The shadows were long and dark by the time the outline of Yiat rose from the horizon. Purple, yellow, and red beams from the setting sun reflected off the citadel. It’s gold clad dome shone like a beacon for weary travelers arriving by land or by sea.
A few groups rushed past us, oblivious to our plight. No one wanted to be outside the walls after dark this far north. I’d read about the potential dangers before I left on the job and deemed most of them superstition. Most likely, there were those who took advantage of the old lore to scare, rob, or kill those who didn’t reach the safety of a city. Though, after what happened to Steffan, I wasn’t so sure every story could be blamed on thieves.
I urged Spiri faster, despite having pushed both horses hard already. Threats, human or not, meant I didn’t want to arrive after sunset only to have the guards refuse to open the gates, or to look too closely at Steffan before letting us in. As it was, saying she was sick might raise alarms. No one wanted a plague in their city.
A half-dozen people were waiting for entry when we arrived, the fortified stone walls rising high above us. Unlike most cities in the south, there were no settlements outside the walls. Yiat was entirely self contained. Even the port was abandoned each night and the western gates locked until just before sunrise. Often sailors and captains who were otherwise loathe to leave their berths would often come in during the night, too.
A guard gave me a once over and asked, “Purpose and destination, Mim?”
I pulled out my papers, stating my rights to a rented residence in the city and my travel plans back south to Isig.
The guard frowned and tilted her head toward Steffan’s horse. “This only mentions you. Who is your companion?”
Thankfully, she couldn’t see her face clearly in the torchlight. “I saved her from an unsavory bunch in Kenuport. She owes me a debt, and I intended to make her pay it.”
“Why is she slumped like that?” She moved around to get a better look.
“Poisoned.” I said it loud to draw her attention back. “I’m eager to find a healer.”
“She looks dead.”
“Yet she still breathes. For now. Which is why we rode hard to get here for a healer.”
“Ah!” she said when she spotted the Feogin stable brand. “and you’ll want to return that mare before you’re charged another day. Hartar, the manager, is relentless.” She folded my papers back up and handed them over. “Ask for Zelian at Brots healing center. He saved my daughter and son last year. Best healer in Yiat.”
I gave her my thanks and made my way through the gates into the entrance tunnel. The ceiling arched over us, tall and wide enough for the most elaborate carriages to pass two by two. Though grand, I made my way through as fast as the horses could bear. The wide expanse of unsupported stone above my head made me uncomfortable, especially because I could tell there was no magic helping to hold the thirty foot wide wall that rose above the gates and surrounded the city. Before I’d left for Kenuport, a local at the pub tried to explain how the stones distributed the weight, so I didn’t need to be nervous about it.
I didn’t believe him. Especially when the inner walls had buildings attached to them, rising almost to the top. Some of the most expensive real estate was along the top levels of the walls near the main keep. My father used to tell me there was a reason for the variety of people in the world. I’d come to believe he was right, though it surprised me that some varieties have survived given their propensity for risky behavior. Like living in a building hanging forty feet in the air on a stone wall. No view was worth that.
The house I’d rented was nearer the center of the city, just outside the inner walls surrounding the keep and firmly on the ground. Maneuvering both of us through the crowded streets proved more difficult than it would have been if she were conscious. I was grateful to see the Nia and her son, Jor, come out to meet me. If I had any coin left after this excursion, I’d leave them a generous tip. I’d never seen such dedication and selflessness from caretakers, not even in my house growing up.
“Oh my,” Nia said. “She doesn’t look well.” Her eyes were wide, the concern on her face accentuated in the shadows cast by street kyboillos.
“She isn’t,” I said and slid off Spiri. “I can get her inside. Could you make up a second bed?”
“Of course, Mim. Bring her to the second room on the left.” She squeezed my arm and dashed up the short flight of steps.
“Jor, can you handle the horses? I don’t know if Hartar will charge me more when you return her, but you can assure him I’m good for it.”
Jor brushed the sandy blonde hair out of his eyes. “I’d say he will.” He patted the horse’s neck. “She’s run down for sure.”
I gave him a small bag of berries I’d been saving for Spiri. “Make sure to treat them.” Getting Steffan down was awkward, and I had to warn Jor, who jumped in to help, to keep his distance. “And don’t touch that bag with your hands. Use a stick or something.” I pointed to the one I’d stowed the flask in.
His eyes went wide when I told him it contained the poison Steffan drank and agreed he would avoid it. Once I had her slung over my shoulder, he took the reins and disappeared with both horses into the small stable under the house.
The stone steps seemed higher and more numerous than I remembered as I carried her in. Nia had left the front door opened, and I shifted Steffan around so I didn’t add head injury to whatever else she had going on.
“In here!” Nia emerged and pointed me into a room. The covers on a day bed along the far wall were pulled down, the pillows piled up at one end.
I laid her down as gently as possible, then placed my hand on her chest. It raised and lowered painfully slow. Her chin and lips were nearly white. Tendrils of a sickly blue stretched out across her cheeks and down her neck.
“There isn’t much time. Do you know Zelian?”
“He’s the best healer in the city.” She put her hand over her mouth. “But he can’t help with this.”
“You’ve seen it before?”
“No. But I have heard the stories from others who have passed through here. Once they told of a companion struck by a magic that swelled up from the land. His skin turned white, spreading like a tumor while he was unconscious.” Her eyes narrowed.
“That sounds similar. Did he survive?”
“In that story, yes. None of the others, though.” She stepped forward, throwing another blanket over Steffan. Her eyes stayed locked on the lifeless face. “So young.” She lowered her eyes.
“I’ll go get Zelian. If he can’t help, perhaps he’ll know someone.”
“There is someone…” Nia’s voice was a whisper.
“Who? Tell me and I’ll get them!”
She shook her head again. “You can’t. He isn’t in the city and you’ll never convince him to come back.”
For someone I’d labeled as dedicated and selfless, she seemed to do her damnedest to frustrate me to death. “I just need to get her help. Now. I don’t care who they are or where they are!”
“I, I’m sorry, Mim.” She stood up straighter and rubbed her hands together. “Give me a quarter hour?”
“Hurry.”
She ran out of the room. I heard stomping down the hall, a door slamming, then the silence of an empty house. I didn’t know what she planned to do in that time. Or whether Steffan would even last that long.
I pulled a sheet off a nearby chair and waited.
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