The Killing Moon (Dreamblood #1)(36)

Ehiru sent a prayer of thanks to the Goddess. “The creature was on him for only a breath. Gatherings are never so quick.”

“You can’t call this a Gathering.” Mni-inh scowled so fiercely that his thin, fine brows almost met in the middle of his forehead. “It’s too obscene for that. The humor was stripped with such speed and force that it left great rents in his mind. I’ve healed them, but there will be scars.”

Ehiru ached in silent misery, lowering his eyes to the alcove floor. “My fault.”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself. Though if I hadn’t seen the evidence with my own eyes, I would never have believed it. Gods; a Reaper.” He shook his head as he got to his feet to stretch, eyeing Ehiru sidelong. “I would’ve said the madness had taken you.”

“I would’ve said the same before tonight,” Ehiru replied. He lifted a hand to one temple to massage the dull ache there. “But visions don’t leave bruises, or bodies.”

Mni-inh frowned, stepping closer and pushing Ehiru’s hand away. Ehiru felt the Sharer’s cooler fingers press against his temple, followed by the more subtle touch of another soul against his own. “You spent your last reserve giving peace to the boy. And took no tithe tonight?”

“No.”

The Sharer’s lips twitched, probably in disapproval. “You need an infusion, then. I’ll wake Inesst. He has enough left to share with you, and it’s almost time for his duty-shift anyhow.”

Ehiru hesitated. “I think… I would prefer to face the pranje. Now, rather than at my usual time.”

Mni-inh scowled. “You’ve been foolish about this long enough, Ehiru. You’ve served more than enough penance—”

“That is for Hananja to say, not you.” Ehiru folded his arms and fixed his gaze on Nijiri, feeling more certain of his decision as he did so. “I tried to Gather last night, and circumstances demanded an abeyance. Then I tried to prevent a murder and failed. A child is dead, her soul banished to torment. Her body lies in an alley like trash, and now my apprentice has been harmed as well. Does that sound as though Hananja still wants me to work, Mni-inh?”

“It sounds like you’re seeing omens around every corner!”

Ehiru pointed a finger at Nijiri’s prone form. The boy still slept, but was beginning to breathe faster as he recovered. “There lies an omen. What do you think it means?” Mni-inh flinched at his sharpness, and with an effort Ehiru restrained his anger before it could alarm the Sharer further. More calmly he said, “Do you believe it was all a vision?”

Mni-inh rolled his eyes. “No, obviously something happened to Nijiri. But your reserves are low enough to be problematic, Ehiru, you cannot deny—”

“I don’t want to deny it. I welcome it. I’ll go into seclusion now if you think I should, but I won’t ignore this coincidence, if that it is. I think She calls me to commune with Her, Mni-inh. I am Her Servant; I must obey.”

“And your apprentice?” Mni-inh gestured toward Nijiri, his own anger bordering on the unpeaceful. “If you undergo the pranje now and She tells you to offer the Final Tithe, he’ll be left alone.”

“Sonta-i can—”

“Sonta-i has trouble mustering enough simple human compassion to comfort his tithebearers, much less anyone else!”

“Rabbaneh, then.”

Mni-inh scowled in exasperation and poked Ehiru in the chest with a finger. “You, stubborn fool. You’re the one the boy is in love with.” Ehiru flinched at Mni-inh’s bluntness—but then Mni-inh had always been too blunt, willing to say things no Gatherer would put to words. Most Sharers wouldn’t have, either; that was just Mni-inh’s way. “It’s a good thing; only love can heal scars like his. And yours, if you ever decide to do more than just let them fester.”

Ehiru took an involuntary step back, unbalanced by more than the jab. “I…”

Nijiri chose that moment, conveniently, to stir. Throwing a last glare at Ehiru, Mni-inh went to the boy’s pallet and knelt, lifting one of his eyelids to peer within. Pursing his lips as he gauged something only a Sharer could fathom, Mni-inh then leaned down and whispered in the boy’s ear.

Nijiri’s eyelids flicked open, blank and disoriented—and then he bucked, throwing Mni-inh off and rolling away. He backed himself against the alcove wall in a crouch, eyes wild, before the Sharer could do more than gasp out a swift oath and reach after him.

Ehiru quickly caught Mni-inh’s hand. Sentinel training functioned in concert with instinct; in this state, the boy might break the Sharer’s arm. Pushing Mni-inh back, he crouched low so as to seem less threatening. “Peace, Nijiri. The danger has passed.”

It took several breaths for sense to flow back into the boy’s eyes. When it did he shut them again and sagged against the wall. “Brother.”

Ehiru crept closer. “Here. The demon’s gone. We’ve come home to the Hetawa, and you’re safe in Hananja’s own Hall. See?”

He got close enough to reach out and touch Nijiri’s cheek with his fingertips. The boy’s eyes opened and for a moment Ehiru was thrown ten years back in time. Desert jasper. Then the vision passed.

“Yes,” Nijiri whispered. “I see you, Brother.”

Beyond them, Mni-inh dared to take a step closer. “How do you feel, Gatherer-Apprentice?”