But that wasn’t what happened.
Although he did lose all but a germ of his “self,” as he was stretched thin as gossamer on the wind, that germ was held tight and cradled safely. And finally, he sensed Amily, wisps and hints and glimpses of drug-induced nightmare.
And that was when the thing that held him magnified everything around that tenuous presence in a way he could never have managed alone. There was someone with her.
Not Ice or Stone, someone else.
Like smacking the Kirball as hard as he could, he flung what he got at Gennie, who caught it and relayed it on.
Such a fragile connection could not be held for long, not when he was as exhausted as he was. It faded. His hold on the stone faded.
You have what you need. You have what you want. Hold the balance.
Then he found himself lying on the table, gasping like a fish out of water.
They’d been given a little room on the same lower-level hallway as the one with the stone in it, furnished with chairs, an ordinary table, and pens and paper. It was cool here—but not nearly as cool as the room with the stone. Bear read over Sedric’s notes on Amily a second time, and then a third. Sedric had taken the originals with him, but he’d left them a copy. Lena then divided up the pages, and each of them made four copies of the pages they had. Bear had the ones at the end, describing the impressions Mags had gotten of Amily’s captor, and the more he read, the deeper his frown grew.
“This doesn’t make any sense!” he blurted.
“I know,” Mags sighed. “ ’Tis all like babblin’. I thin’ mebbe I was so tired by then I was seein’ things all cockeyed.”
“No, that’s not what I mean!” Bear exclaimed. “This doesn’t make any sense because it does make sense, to me at least!”
“Now you’re the one not making sense, Bear,” Lena chided.
“You mean you don’t see it?” He looked from face to face around the table; they all shook their heads. “Amily’s been drugged, like I was. And there’s a person with her all the time. And that person is a Healer! Look—here—” he pointed at a passage—“that’s something someone who is Gifted does with someone who is drugged to make sure they don’t burn through the drug too fast. But that doesn’t make any sense! Why would a Healer do this?”
“Because he’s a Karsite religious fanatic?” Gennie suggested. “Fanatics can justify practically any atrocity to themselves. The more untenable their position becomes, the harder they hold to it, and the worse the things they are willing to do to support it.” She leaned over the table and put one hand seriously on top of Bear’s. “Bear... not every Healer thinks the way we do. The way you do. If they did, there wouldn’t be any Karsite Healers.”
Mags was still trying to put the pieces together. Whoever was minding Amily was a Healer... “Would a Healer hurt some’un, or kill ’em, e’en iffen ’e was a Karsite religious fanatic?” he asked, slowly.
“I... I don’t think so,” Bear replied, after a very long moment. “He might stand by and let her be hurt or killed, but I don’t think he’d be able to do it himself. I mean, he could, but he would have to be seriously crazy, right insane. You know, sort of an antiHealer, as seriously insane as that crazy person who kidnapped me, and there’s nothing in these hints that looks that crazy to me.” He paused, thoughtfully. “Actually, someone that crazy would be the wrong person to leave in charge of someone you wanted to keep in good shape. They just plain wouldn’t be able to do that. They kind of feed on other peoples’ pain; sometimes they feed on their own, too. If you left someone like that alone with Amily, he’d definitely hurt her.”
Mags nodded. “Aight. Could it mebbe be some’un thet’s jest... greedy?”
Bear looked at him oddly. “I suppose it’s possible.” He scratched his head. “I... never actually met a greedy Healer; even my father isn’t greedy, just . . .”
“As bloody arrogant as Marchand,” Gennie said crisply.
Bear flushed. “Aye. That. But I know they have to exist. There’re plenty of rich people that want a Healer all to themselves, or want one who... who won’t take just anyone. And I know there’re Healers that will do that.” He blinked and regarded Mags curiously from behind his thick lenses. “You think someone could be greedy enough to—to take the money of kidnappers to keep their captive healthy?”
Mags shrugged. “I seen a lotta good people since I come t’Haven. But... there was plenty’a priests what came by th’ mine an took Cole Pieters love-gifts an’ looked t’other way at starvin’ kiddies. Iffen there’s priests what’ll do thet, why not Healers?”
“Last possibility . . .” Gennie said slowly. “Someone who got in over his head.”
“Eh?” It was Mags’ turn to stare curiously.
“Someone who... oh, I don’t know, was like Marchand, didn’t see any harm in blabbing everything he knew to someone who offered plenty of money—and, yes, by the way, under threat of Truth Spell, Marchand finally admitted that was what he’s been doing. I thought Master Bard Lita was going to die of a brainstorm right then and there.” Gennie smirked, then sobered. “But, what about someone who was taking bribes without thinking twice about it because he thought what was being asked seemed harmless enough. Then when the Karsites grabbed Amily, they needed a Healer, so they lured him to a meeting and grabbed him as well. Now he knows what’s going on, he knows he’s in over his head, and all he can do is try to keep Amily safe and pray we manage to figure out where they have her. Honestly? I think that’s the most likely.”
They all looked at each other. “In that case, Marchand is our Bardic informant, and this Healer is the other plant they said they had,” Bear said. “We’ve filled in all the blank spaces. So... if that’s true, then who’s missing from the Hill, Healer-side?”
“I’ll go interrupt the King and his emergency council,” Gennie said, standing up. “You lot see if you can figure out a way to find where Amily is, if they haven’t already.”
Mags nodded, and they set aside the notes about Amily and her captor and picked up the ones about “the irritations.”
Mags closed his eyes for a moment as the letters began to swim in front of them. Webs and vibrations and... it was all so complicated... .he wanted to sleep, but no, he couldn’t, he needed to . . .
The images that the stone had put in his mind swirled there again. Vibrations. Irritations. Vibrations. Interference. Irrita—
His eyes flew open just before he nodded off. ::What if thet stone was bein’ literal again?::
::That’s more likely than not,:: Dallen said after a moment.
::Then—all that fightin’ and squabblin’—thet wasn’t jest ’cause of th’ heat. It was ’cause them shields really are irritations!::
He turned his mind to Gennie and gently “poked” her.
::Still talking. What?::
::Marchand there?::
He sensed her bitter amusement. ::Being grilled like a fish. Why?::
::I need t’ know iffen them rats he was talkin’ to was meetin’ him real close t’ Palace.:: He remembered now something that the stone had said—or that he thought it had said—when he had fallen asleep in its room. That Ice and Stone were “irritations” because they were “near.”