Healer Read online

  The prince’s attention was drawn to the front yard after Glory suggested a messenger had arrived.

  “One of Lord Gracie’s, I believe,” she said.

  “From the Grand Master himself?” Alexander’s gaze flicked to Wisdom. “You have connections with Luxor?”

  “Well, I did work there once,” Wisdom said, partially true. He did not care to admit that he had been a slave there at one point in his life. “Would you excuse me, please?”

  At a nod, he made his way toward the clan’s front with Glory by his side. As he passed by some of the townspeople, he paused to thank them for their support. Most of the group had dispersed, but a few stayed to mingle with various clan members. Wisdom watched them with growing satisfaction that he had done the right thing. Exposing the road leading to the other three clans – Western, Mystic and Simpleton – opened up new possibilities. Accessibility invited new members, and filled a void in a once disconnected realm.

  Alexander had let Nature overtake the road in order to hide the clan’s location. Mostly, it had averted those sent from the Schevolsky family living on the other side of town. Their history with the clans made owning the central clan a task, for it was the Schevolsky family who had last owned it. With their misuse of money, the clans fell to quarreling, and eventually refused to speak to one another. That, to the prince’s relief, was now no longer an issue.

  “I caught the last bit before the vines cleared from the road,” Glory said as she walked alongside her fiancé. A white dress swished around her ankles with each step. “You did well.”

  “Thank you.” He flashed a broad grin. “I figured if people were coming and going from town, the clans might as well look presentable.”

  His sapphire eyes met her maple-brown gaze in a growing bond of love. He could have stared at her beauty all day. If not for their awaiting messenger, he would have done just that.

  “So Lord Gracie spoke true!” The verbal interruption forced the two to break eye contact. “A Healer and a human. Who would have thought?”

  A White Wing, who at the sight of them puffed up his neck and facial feathers in greeting. One wing opened to display a creamy underside, with matching color patterned across the face and down the shoulders. A few black stripes mixed in to resemble a raccoon’s appearance.

  Talons tapped over some loose pebbles when the harpy stepped forward. Although clothing was not a necessity, this one wore a dark vest that complemented his pale feathering.

  “Megas!” Wisdom instantly recognized Lord Gracie’s personal servant. “It’s good to see you again. How’s the wing?”

  The harpy grinned with pride and spread both, easily stretching the width of the road. It was not so long ago that the wings were damaged during a thunderstorm – that of the horn’s doing. As they folded behind him they faded from view, an illusion that helped in crowded areas where large wings could cause distraction.

  “Never better!” Megas’ feathering flattened, giving him an almost human appearance. He then held out a brown-paper package. “Lord Gracie instructed me to give this to a Master Wisdom. So that’s you now, huh?”

  “That is correct. Thank you.” Wisdom took the package with care, rotating it slightly to examine its irregular shape.

  “Whatever happened to Keith?” Megas asked, scanning over his friend’s new outfit. Accustomed to the layered look of humans, Wisdom’s rich attire was something he had not expected.

  “I don’t use the other name anymore because of…er.” He paused and glanced at Glory, trying to find the right words.

  With understanding, she placed a hand over his in reassurance. “It’s just a part of becoming clan leader. He’s a prince now. Change is expected.”

  Thank you, Wisdom thought to her, not wanting to mention slavery in front of the servant.

  “Change indeed,” Megas said without noticing anything amiss. “I’m glad things have settled down for you, considering what you’ve been through.” He motioned to Glory. “My Lady, you look simply stunning! Your father must be very proud of you.”

  “He is! I’m awaiting word from him. Hopefully, it’ll be soon.”

  Megas tapped the package with a talon. “There may be something inside. Lord Gracie informed me to be extra careful with it, so I got here as soon as possible. Right breezy out today.”

  “A good day for flight,” Wisdom said. “Will you give my gratitude to Lord Gracie?”

  “Always!” Megas turned to leave. “By the way, Nicolas says hello!” He pulled himself into flight with the pump of his wings, leaving the two below shielding their faces from a stir of dust and wind. Once everything had settled, they watched the harpy sail through the sky with ease.

  “And to think you can do the same. It sickens me!” She laughed. “So who’s Nicolas?”

  “The doctor’s son.”

  “Really? And he works for Lord Gracie?”

  Wisdom nodded as he untied the string holding the brown wrapping paper together. No’va’s only floating structure, Luxor Castle, was home to many individuals: harpies, Foreseers, even Healers. Thomas Gracie ran the place as Grand Master, keeping laws and documentation of the different races throughout the land. Yet it was up to the individual realms how they wanted to implement each individual law.

  When Wisdom pulled the paper aside, a deep blue fabric lay folded with a square-cut note overtop. A hint of silver captured Glory’s attention, and she tenderly lifted a sleeve to reveal silver designs on the cuff.

  “This is beautiful,” he heard her say while silently reading. “This is from Lord Gracie?”

  “Actually, my grandfather.” He handed her the note.

  “It’s an invitation!” She turned it over to find more writing. It was slightly lopsided, as though the person had rushed to get it down before stuffing it in with the garment. “But I can’t read this part.”

  The prince chuckled. “That would be my grandfather. In my language, gui’ajen, ni-ser’ino! Basically, I’m prince now. I represent both humans and Healers, so he wants me to look the part.”

  “All that is in those two words?”

  Wisdom grinned. “The short version: you’re prince, now look it!” He pulled out the garment. A quick shake unfolded the material, and he held it out to receive awed approval from Glory.

  The outfit consisted of two pieces, both of which contained silver designs over a midnight blue fabric. He admired the long overcoat trimmed in silver down the front. The sleeves were designed to partially cover the arm, then separated to drape beneath the elbow. Two clasps fastened at the waist. The same were on the tunic, only at the base of the collar. Silver adorned both cuffs and collar, with a belt for the tunic.

  Still holding the note, Glory pulled out a remaining black pair of slacks.

  “You’re grandfather spared no expense, I see.” She held up a matching knee-high boot that laced from ankle up, but Wisdom shook his head.

  “The boots, maybe,” he said. “But the rest isn’t your typical fabric. If you look closely, you can see the interwoven threads of silk.”

  Glory held the material up close. “It doesn’t feel like silk. Who made this?”

  “Not humans, I assure you. Nature created this.” The two folded the clothing and neatly tucked it back inside the paper. “And I intend to wear it when we go to Luxor.”

  *****

  Having lived directly over the home of Lo-ans’rel, Chanté was always amazed by their daily healing abilities and shape-shifting. It never got old. Now, as he watched his friend’s magic clear a road into Western Clan territory, he thought about home. Yet home was three realms away, within the heart of Crystal Valley. Its forests contained some of the tallest trees in No’va – Redwoods, the safest place a harpy could find.

  Chanté missed his cozy nest within the treetops. He missed the gentle swaying at night when the wind blew. Here, the trees of Trully were too short to gain much movement and did not hold much satisfaction to rebuild another nest. He thought about his family, a clan of W
hite Wings under the leadership of his father, Rusha. At the time he had left the valley, Rusha had been called by the leader of Lo-ans’rel to act against humans. It was no hidden fact that humans used harpies for servitude. It was even present in the current realm, for he had seen Alexander bring some of his servants below Chanté’s hiding spot.

  Within the thick branches of the trees, Chanté’s array of patterned feathers across his face helped disguise his appearance within the deep shadows. With wings folded in a fade to avoid catching on limbs, he shifted positions to a comfortable crouch and waited for the crowd below to disperse.

  Nothing new here, a voice rang through his thoughts. Just another demonstration of control.

  Chanté checked the next branch over to spy Wisdom’s albino half-brother, Shy. The Healer returned the greeting with a grin. At a ripe age of fifteen winters, this was no mere child. If the brothers had stood side by side, none would be able to distinguish a difference in age…or power, for that matter.

  “How come you’re not down there?” Chanté leaned over to whisper. “Thought you wanted to get to know humans more?”

  Shy leaned his head back until it rested against the wide trunk. An emerald gaze flicked to the harpy. “I am – by studying them from a distance.”

  Chanté puffed up his chest feathers, glad to be free of the clothing given to him to look the part of a servant. Itchy stuff! He could not fathom having to wear it longer than a few hours.

  Shy must have noticed, for he motioned to its absence.

  “Maybe if I were human, or Lo-ans’rel!” A throaty chirp managed to escape, and he quickly shut his mouth to avoid detection from below.

  Shy merely shrugged. He repositioned himself along the limb. When he did, waist-length silver-white hair spilled over one shoulder. The group below was starting to break up.

  “Have you told your brother about Chronicles yet?”

  “Only enough to not draw attention to the real reason he sent me,” Shy said.

  “You didn’t tell him?!” The harpy muffled another chirp. “How long do you expect Chronicles to wait before he sends both our kinds against humans?”

  He heard the Healer sigh before softly answering, “I don’t.”

  A green aura engulfed the Healer’s body and pushed off from the branch. By the time the light had faded, a sparrow’s form took shape and flitted from the wooded area. My father sent me to mark human settlements, came a thought. I plan to do so, but I’ll be looking for those with the strength to fight back!

  CHAPTER 2

  How disappointing. Wisdom thought back to Glory’s pouting face. Still no word from her father. As he headed into the small town of Trully, he began to wonder if Glory’s former fiancé had found another way to detain the family’s letters. He had once before, even going as far as threatening to close down the port of Lexington to prevent travel to the southern borders. And with that storm…could it affect sea travel as well?

  His mood slightly shifted as he entered town just down the road from the Eastern Clan. A few of the shop owners greeted him when he passed. This was a change. Before, streets were empty for fear of the Schevolsky boys. Now, as Wisdom approached a group of young men hoisting up a new sign for one of the shops, he recognized them as those boys.

  “Try shortening the chain a bit! It’s crooked!” Lorens Schevolsky, their father, directed from ground level. The boys, scattered over different parts of a ladder, with two on the roof, struggled to get the sign hooked in place. “Where’s Peter? He was supposed to make the holes even!”

  The man let out a loud swear and told the boys to come back down with the sign. When he saw the prince heading his way, he waved a hand in greeting.

  “Looks nice so far.” Wisdom eyed several new signs already hanging down one side of the street. The smell of fresh cut wood permeated the air. Toward the end of the street, new siding freshened some of the older buildings.

  “I’d be done sooner if my youngest would get his act together.” Lorens’ dark eyebrows lowered in disappointment. He wiped a hand across his brow, then pointed to the holes cut into the sign. “I put him in charge, and this is what I get.”

  Wisdom examined the sign as the boys set it on the ground. Three holes had been cut near the top. Yet all were uneven.

  Lorens just shook his head. “How many times must I explain this?”

  “Probably because me,” the prince said. “I did embarrass him when…” He nodded to the band of nearly grown youth standing around him. Peter had been ring leader the day Wisdom first came to Trully. In a show of childish bullying, the youth had his brothers greet the new prince by trying to steal from him. Now the family worked for the prince due to money troubles.

  Lorens only nodded in understanding. “I’ll have another talk with him.”

  Wisdom crossed his arms. “You could get your…mistress to have a little chat with him as well.”

  Lorens cracked a smile. His so-called mistress happened to be a dark ‘Keyarx, one of the infamous Black Wings that preyed on smaller kin. Wisdom could already attest to that, having nearly made her menu on first introductions. The only thing that saved him was Osha, the unicorn whose soul now resided within his own body. That, and knowing the whereabouts of her son, who was currently a prisoner in Sapphire.

  “Don’t suppose any of that magic could help, could it?” one of the boys asked.

  In response, Wisdom knelt by the sign. Closing his eyes, he opened his mind to sight-read. Present thoughts on how Lorens planned to improve the remaining buildings flooded his mind. To guide the illusion, he lifted his hand across multiple facades lining either side of the street. An ear twitched to gasps of surprise. When the Healer reopened his eyes, the town was transformed. Even the sign before him had been fixed of uneven cutting.

  “Well, I would like to say this was permanent,” Wisdom said as the illusion slowly faded. “But I’m afraid magic can’t fix everything.”

  “But you saw it exactly as I did!” Fascinated, Lorens watched the buildings return to their normal appearance.

  The prince tapped the side of his head. “Heard your thoughts.”

  He rose, the call of his name pricking his ears toward a path leading down to the harbor. From there came a young man donning a deep blue vest over a crimson shirt. Yet upon recognizing the Schevolsky group, he jerked to a halt in fright and let out a girlish scream. Staggering back around the side of a building, there came a thud when he collided into something.

  The boys burst into wild laughter and slapped each other on the backs. Years of tormenting the people had left some of the locals with an undying dislike for the family. While Wisdom rolled his eyes and went to check on his friend, he could hear their father commanding them to be silent and get back to work.

  The prince rounded the corner to a stutter of apologies. A band of merchants hauling cartloads from the dockyard halted their course for the young man to gather himself together after bumping into their leader.

  “Blackavar!” Excitement hurried his steps to the indistinguishable Master Thief. As guild leader to an underground home of thieves in Lexington, the raven-haired man carried himself with pride. A set of pouches strapped around the belt led to wonder what new items the Master Thief carried with him.

  “Ain’t a bad little location for a starter prince!” Blackavar’s tease received a wide grin. He jerked a thump in the direction of the apologetic young man. “Bit jumpy, this one.”

  “He’ll be fine, won’t you Josephine?” Wisdom flashed a warm smile while Blackavar motioned for the group to continue up the hill.

  “The old man by the shipyard said that’s how he got his name,” one of the men said.

  Josephine’s face slightly reddened. “Well, if the last name wasn’t Phine. It’s hard enough to believe I can just walk up here and not have to worry about being chased, or stoned, or what-have-you!”

  Wisdom chuckled. “Good thing. Now your grandfather can get his supplies from town in a timely manner!”

/>   “Speaking of which,” the young man started down the hill. “I’d better get back. Just showing these gents where to go, but no telling what the old man is saying while I’m gone. Oh, and someone took my pie again!”

  Probably Peter. Wisdom let out a sigh. “Thanks! I’ll take it from here.” The two said their farewells, and Wisdom took over as guide toward the Eastern Clan. “I’m glad you received my message, Blackavar. Were you able to bring everything I asked?”

  They peered down the slope at the caravan of people hauling carts and carrying bundles from Harbor’s Point.

  “And then some.” Blackavar opened the flap to one of his pouches and dug around inside. “Ah! Here we are.” He handed the prince a letter. “Came from a messenger just before boarding. Said it was important.”

  Wisdom turned the envelope over to inspect its seal. The emblem was marked from Central Valley Clan, a signature of Master Roland Elite – Glory’s father. His fingers itched to tear open a corner, if just to glimpse a word or two. Instead, he swallowed his impatience and stuffed it in an inner pocket for later.

  “Thank you. This has been long overdue.”

  As the group filed through the center of town, Wisdom pointed out places still in need of attention. “Might take a few more weeks, but it’s coming along.”

  “We’ve a few hands to spare if ye need it,” Blackavar said. “Us thieves, ye know, ain’t quick for no reason.” He wriggled his fingers on both hands when he held them up to emphasize his point.

  At the edge of town, the road began to narrow. Trees lined on either side as the path cut through a wooded area. As the prince lead the way, he halfway pulled the letter from his pocket and whispered, “I’m hoping to obtain approval from a young lady’s family.”

  Blackavar’s eyes widened. “Engaged, are we?”

  The prince made a motion to show his doubt. “I…haven’t asked yet.”

  “Our Master Mage has a lady friend!” the thief teased in a sing-song voice.