Chapter 5

Priest Telkin said, “I don’t think about it the way you’re describing it. If there’s a serious injury, I just ... heal it. The details have never really mattered. I’m either strong enough to heal someone or I’m not.”

“You mean the magic works even if you don’t know what needs to be fixed, or how?” Treya asked. She’d gone to visit him that morning to ask for advice about using her healing magic. The weather was chilly, so they’d left the courtyard and moved to a side room off the main temple.

“For me, yes,” Telkin said, “but magic works differently for everyone. I’ve heard of healers that approach it the way you do, but I don’t happen to know anyone like that personally. Besides you, I mean.”

Treya sighed. “I guess I was hoping there was some sort of class where you could teach me what I need to know.”

“Not a class, no, but experience makes the best teacher. I got most of my experience here at the temple, from the people who come to us for healing. That’s not an option for you, but some of the city’s almshouses are dedicated to serving the sick and the injured who won’t get better on their own and can’t pay for healing. All of the priesthoods volunteer their time, so you wouldn’t be out of place.”

Treya blinked in surprise. “I never thought of that. The chapter house has herbalists of our own, and we always just hire a healer when we need one. I didn’t think about what happens to the people who can’t afford to. How do I... ?”

“I’ll get you a list. Just pick one and show up, and ask the administrator if he needs your help.”

“Thank you. I’m not really supposed to be back in Tyrsall this often, but I suppose other towns must have something similar.”

Telkin nodded. “The larger cities, anyway. I’m glad I was able to address at least part of your concern.”

“You’ve been very helpful. Do you know if Bishop Lastal is in? Would it be possible for me to speak to him again?”

“The bishop? Why?”

“I was hoping he might have learned something more about the problem we brought to him last time, with the binding spells.”

That wasn’t the whole truth. Corec believed that the bishop knew more than he’d told them, and Treya was hoping he’d be more forthcoming if she talked to him again.

The priest hesitated. “He’s a very busy man ... but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for me to check.”

“Thank you!”

A few minutes later, Telkin returned and led her to the bishop’s office, then left the two of them alone together.

“Treya, right?” Lastal said. “How curious. I recently came across some information for you and your friends.”

“You mean about the runes?”

“Yes. There’s a wizard in the city who may be able to help you. Yelena.”

“I think I’ve heard that name before,” Treya said.

“That’s quite likely. She works for Duke Voss.”

Voss was the Duke of Tyrsall, responsible for the city itself. Unlike the other three duchies in the kingdom, there were no baronies within the city, so Voss had his hand in everything. In many ways, he was more powerful than the king.

“But she’s willing to help us?”

“I would say, instead, that she’s willing to speak to you. Anything beyond that is between you and her.”

“Where can I find her?”

“I can set up a meeting here, but it would be best if you were all present, particularly the w ... the young man you were with last time.”

Treya considered that. Corec didn’t trust Lastal, and the offer of a meeting seemed like more than a coincidence. Was there a better way to approach Yelena? One of the girls Treya had grown up with was concubine to the duke’s seneschal. Kirla lived in the palace and had surely met the duke’s wizard by now—perhaps she could provide an introduction.

“I’ll ask them and let you know,” Treya said.

“Excellent. Now, what can I help you with today?”

“Oh, that’s all I came about—just to see if you’d learned anything more about the runes.”

“Yes? And why did you come alone? Surely you have another reason.”

She suddenly felt nervous. “What do you mean?”

“Those of our people who are called to the priesthoods must watch out for each other. You’d do well in the Church of Allosur, and following the God of Knowledge is a worthy pursuit. Perhaps not here in Tyrsall, but I could find you a place. Simply claim that you had a vision that it was Allosur who granted your blessings, and the humans will never know the difference.”

“Our people? What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t really think you’d hidden your nature from me, did you? I thought I’d made that clear at our last meeting. How could I not recognize another godborn, much less a trueborn who’s inherited our ancestors’ magic?”

Treya backed away from him. “Wh ... wh ... what?”

Lastal stared at her curiously. “You mean you really didn’t know, even when you bear the stigma of a godborn so openly? Where did you think your magic came from?”

Stigma? What did he mean? She could only think of the stigma the demonborn carried—the pointed teeth or horns or other deformities that marked them as something different.

“I ... I thought that one of the gods gave me my blessings. That’s what Telkin and the others said.”

“Well, Telkin doesn’t know everything. He actually is one of the blessed—a good man, dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge. But outside the priesthoods, the gods aren’t in the habit of granting blessings to random passersby. Perhaps if you were some hero dedicated to their cause, they might take action to nudge you toward one of the orders, but they don’t just go around picking girls off the street.”

“But my parents ... they were farmers. Humans!”

“Likely one of them was a godborn whose abilities hadn’t manifested, or at least had a godborn ancestor. Are you certain they were even your parents?”

“I need to go.”

Lastal sighed. “I suppose this must be overwhelming. I grew up knowing who I was, so the only surprise was when the magic came to me. Well, and one more surprise later on, but we can discuss that at another time. Would you like me to introduce you to some of the others in the city?”

“I’m leaving!”

“Very well, but I’ll be here if you have questions. Please do let me know about the meeting with Yelena.”

Treya ran out of his office, thankful that Telkin wasn’t there waiting for her. Her mind was awhirl with thoughts that wouldn’t stay still long enough for her to think them. Godborn were a myth. She knew, intellectually, that they existed, but she’d never seen one before, and had never known anyone that had seen one. She certainly couldn’t be one herself. Could she?

Katrin held a white blouse and a green dress up in front of the mirror, trying to decide between them.

“Which one should I wear tonight?” she asked, turning to where Corec was sitting up in bed, shirtless, braced against the wall with his hands behind his head as he watched her.

“I kind of like what you have on now,” he said.

She smirked at him. Since they were stuck in town for at least one more day waiting on his armor to be repaired, they’d spent half the afternoon in bed, and she hadn’t put any clothes back on yet.

“Come on, I’m serious. I haven’t performed with anyone since Felix left, so I want to look good tonight.”

Two traveling minstrels had shown up at the inn the night before, looking for a chance to play. The innkeeper had already made the offer to Katrin, so they’d gone elsewhere for the evening, but before they left, they’d made arrangements to play together tonight. It would mean Katrin would only get a discount on her room rather than getting it for free, but it would be worth it to play something different. The two men had a guitar and a fiddle, so she suspected she’d spend a lot of time singing while they played.

“What about your blue dress?” Corec asked.

“That one’s gotten too ragged to wear in front of an audience.” She couldn’t wear it for traveling, either, since it wasn’t cut for riding. It had been her favorite, but it was probably time to throw it out or sell it to a second-hand shop.

“Wear the green dress, then. It’s a lot like the blue.”

“Maybe,” she said, looking back at the mirror. “But the rune will stand out more if I wear the white blouse with a dark skirt. I get more tips when they stare at the rune.” She’d taken to telling people, when they asked, that it was a magical rune she’d gotten from a wizard. The story was just mysterious enough to interest her audience, and had the benefit of being mostly true.

Corec laughed. “All right. The blouse looks good too.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Yes?” Katrin called out.

“It’s Treya. I need to talk to you.”

“Give us a minute!” she replied.

Corec jumped out of bed and the two of them scrambled into their clothes before opening the door.

“Oh, good, you’re both here,” Treya said. “Are the others around? Shavala and Ellerie, I mean.”

“I think Ellerie’s here, but I’m not sure if Shavala’s back yet. She went back down to the harbor again.”

“I’ll check.” Treya went to the next room over and knocked on the door. Both of the elven women were there, and Treya led them back to Katrin and Corec’s room.

“What’s up?” Corec asked her.

“I was at the Temple of Allosur, speaking to Priest Telkin, so I decided to see if Bishop Lastal had learned anything more about the runes. He said he knew someone who might be willing to help us.”

“Who?”

“A wizard named Yelena.”

“The one who works for the Duke of Tyrsall?”

“You know her?”

“Just the name. A few people mentioned her when I was looking for a wizard. What about you?”

Treya shook her head. “I’ve heard of her, but that’s it. Lastal offered to set up a meeting, but I think you’re right about him—I don’t trust him either.”