Fearless (Nameless #3)(31)
Zo nodded. “We are the payment.” She’d learned all of this ages ago.
“Wrong. Our love is the payment. But the order of life demands balance in all things.”
“I don’t understand.”
Millie sat for a moment, chewing on the inside of her lip. “Imagine a reservoir of water. We, as healers, can fuel healing fire with our love, but we must be able to keep the fire from consuming us. Once we are finished healing, our fire is doused by the water we’ve stored in our reservoir.
“The creator made us so that our healing magic cannot exceed the level of our reservoir. Once that ‘water’ is used to douse the healing flame, it needs time to build again. If not, the fire of healing would grow beyond our ability to douse the flame when the healing is finished.”
“And you think I’ve opened some sort of floodgate?” Zo shook her head, still not understanding.
Millie began to mutter to herself again, her face pale, her eyes wide with worry. “A healing that wasn’t meant to be. A flame so hot the slow waters couldn’t quench. The gates open. The reservoir broken. The water no longer gathering … ”
Was it possible that her experience healing Joshua had caused this? She’d didn’t see how. Even though she’d felt broken in the week following the boy’s healing, she couldn’t deny the power that now felt so close to her—a current that ran under the surface of her skin. She almost told the older healer as much but the words died in her throat when Millie spoke first.
“The healing flame burns away the bad. A healer’s reserve of water dammed no more. Can’t access the flood to douse the magic. A reservoir of saving energy reduced only to a mere stream.” She reached out and ran a shaking finger down the side of Zo’s face. “A stream that can only carry the problem elsewhere.”
Chapter Twelve
“Won’t you at least come and see us off?” Zo asked Tess while adjusting the strap of her pack. Another trip. Miles and miles with provisions strapped to Zo’s back and rocks biting into the soles of her well-worn boots. The sour prospect mixed with the idea of leaving her loved ones yet again. Even though the trip was meant to only last a week, Zo didn’t know if she’d ever be comfortable apart from them again.
Tess wrinkled her nose at Zo, but didn’t offer any kind of response as her little hands helped Millie hang herbs on a line outside the Healer’s Tent.
Zo persisted. “Joshua will be there. And I hear the Raven have a special way of sending their people off. It might be interesting.”
Tess bent down to grab another bundle of herbs to hand to Millie, dutifully ignoring Zo.
“Don’t worry about us, Zo,” said Millie, her voice the model of forced lightness. “Young Tess and I have big plans to sew you both new dresses for the Ostara the Commander has planned.” Usually the old woman would have made some type of joke about Zo’s failure in the art of sewing unless it involved stitching men, but after their confusing talk about floods and fires, Millie simply averted her eyes and swallowed.
“I’ll miss you,” said Zo. “And I’ll only be gone a week or so … ” She waited for her sister to say something, anything. Even outright anger would be better than silence.
Finally, Zo sighed. “Be sure to study with Millie while I’m gone, and look out for Joshua and Gryphon.” She turned to leave, but couldn’t bring herself to walk away. Closing her eyes, Zo whispered, “I love you, bug. I’m sorry for everything. As soon as this war is over, I promise never to leave again.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Zo noticed Tess’s hands hovering idle over the basket of herbs. The little girl’s shoulders seemed to shake, but that could have been Zo’s imagination. She waited another few moments, hoping her sister might turn around and send her off with a proper hug and goodbye.
But she didn’t.
With a reassuring nod from Millie, Zo hitched her pack higher onto her shoulders and headed toward Laden’s tent, where the others had planned to meet directly following morning meal. She’d been able to abandon her traditional Wolf clothing for buckskin trousers and a simple tunic with a leather belt tied around her waist. A small sheath hung from her belt, housing her dagger. Another hidden sheath was strapped to her calf.
Eva, the Ram woman who’d followed Stone to the Allied Camp, had taught Zo how to properly wield and even throw the small blades while traveling through the wilderness. Zo managed well enough until the time came to actually kill an animal or harm a human being. It went against her healer-blood to destroy what she’d dedicated her life to preserving.
“Zo?”
Zo jumped a foot in the air and might have fallen were it not for the strong set of hands that found her waist.
“I’m sorry.” Gryphon’s touch carried its own kind of power—relieving tensions, offering support. “I was just looking for you.”
“What is that?” she asked, pointing to the black painted teardrops under his eyes.
He sighed and threw up his hands in surrender. “Joshua and Sani have finally found something they agree upon.”
Zo ran her finger along the dried paint. The skin there was soft, unlike his constantly stubbled cheeks and hardened muscular build. Being close to him, touching him, breathing his air—it wasn’t so different from the sedatives she sometimes gave her patients. “And what is that, exactly?”