Mind Over Matter by R. J. Davnall
stomach fluttered again in response, and she turned away, gagging and coughing. Wolpan put out a hand to steady her, and she could feel the other woman's trembling through her grip.
"I'm sorry." Keshnu's voice told Dora he'd recovered well before she managed to straighten up and face him. His face still lacked its usual animation, but he managed a weak smile. "You have managed a feat considered a matter of tenuous myth among my kind. I'm surprised you thought we used any technique that drastic to pass between Realms."
"But the Wildren technique is to do with parting the ashtmer and ghiten, isn't it?" Dora rubbed her arms, hugging herself.
"Yes, but only a little way, and carefully." Keshnu raised his arm, jerkily, and pointed uphill. "As you can see, the Sherim has been stretched out of stable. It will be a long time before this area is safe again." Dora flinched as Keshnu's last word sprouted sleek wings and accelerated past her head. The Wilder continued, "I think I should probably take some time to instruct you in safe methods of handling Sherim."
Dora glanced at Thia, still unconscious on the grass. If Keshnu intended to take them back to Vessit by Gateway, it would be a while before they could go. Still, the thought of trying to think like a Wilder, trying to learn a Wilder's way of doing things... Dora found herself wondering if there'd be anything left of her at the end of it. Was this what the Gift-Givers had envisioned for her and the Second Gift?
Keshnu misread her hesitation. "Don't worry, I'll take a look at Thia first." He handed her a canteen and turned toward the Clearseer.
Wolpan said, "Thank you." She sounded as frightened and weary as Dora felt. Good job Rel wasn't here to hear the subservient tone in the other Four Knot's voice. In fact, it was probably better if he never learned how careless and weak Wolpan was as a Four Knot, or none of them would ever hear the end of it.
Dora shook her head, brought herself back to herself. Keshnu was already half-way to Thia, Wolpan hovering behind him. A stray gust of wind blew hair into Dora's face as she followed, getting caught between her mouth and the neck of the canteen. She spluttered, put her free hand up to trap the hair back, and found it too short to reach the back of her head. Her ponytail was completely missing, casualty of her fight with the Lentu. She dragged her fingers through the resulting tangles, wishing Taslin were here to do something about them.
No, that was selfish, with Thia still fighting to survive the cost of Dora's hesitation and Wolpan's weaknesses. The Clearseer lay still, her tiny frame making her seem childlike as Keshnu knelt beside her. He leant forward, studying Thia intently, chest first and then head. He pressed a hand to her forehead, ran it down her face without provoking even the slightest hint of a stir.
Dora resisted the urge to try to study the Gift-Giver's face. It would have been rude enough to do that to a human doctor, and Keshnu's mind would be on anything but the chore of pulling the right human expressions to match his assessment. Instead, she quelled her worries by watching Wolpan gasp as Keshnu laid his other hand across Thia's chest. Had the other Four Knot never seen a Wilder study a human's condition before?
For that matter, would it really have been so shocking for a human doctor to touch a patient like that while checking her condition? Keshnu needed to check how strong Thia's hold on life was, after all. Beneath his palm, Dora could see the translucent tendrils of his questing consciousness dropping through Thia's skin and into her heart, probing the muscles for any sign of strain.
A warning voice that Dora was becoming too familiar with hearing at the back of her mind wondered shouldn't you find that disgusting? She made a show of looking away again, but there was only Wolpan around to see, and the other Four Knot was staring suspiciously at the Sherim. Was there anything there for her to worry about, really? It hadn't changed in the last couple of hours.
But then, Wolpan would be seeing the Sherim very differently. A tree with a doorway hanging in its trunk, the round portal distending the natural growth of the wood until the tree seemed bloated and grotesque. Wolpan would see nothing of the shimmering web of Second-Realm colours where the two opposing layers of the Sherim kissed, breathing each other's air in drifts of shining mist. Despite the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, Dora had to admit it was beautiful.
Keshnu straightened, then pushed to his feet, back to his usual elegant humanity. "She'll live. There may be some short-term memory loss, unfortunately, so we may lose the benefit of whatever Clearviewing drove her to take such risks. I can't predict when she'll regain consciousness. Were there problems recovering her?"
Wolpan opened her mouth, but Dora saw the lie coming and got in first. "Yes. We... got in each other's way as we were responding, I suppose."
"If you'd-" Wolpan cut off as her words sent a volley of red darts at Dora. Dora raised a hand, reaching for the feeling she'd had last time she'd had to parry the careless woman's voice. Something bubbled through her skin, and a flash of light hid the moment of contact with the darts. Sharp pain stabbed through the veins down the back of Dora's hands, and for a moment, she thought she'd failed, but the fire died away swiftly.
Wolpan looked away, holding her voice lower but not low enough to hide her anger. "If you'd just left me to do my job it would've been fine."
"By Taslin's account, Dora responded on reflex only." Keshnu's smooth, calm tone cut off Dora's attempt to respond. "We can hardly fault her for that, any more than we can fault you for responding. Thia will be well in time. We should be able to return to Vessit tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Wolpan's voice climbed half an octave.
"I'm sure the town will be safe, Wolpan." Keshnu smiled, putting a hand on Wolpan's shoulder. "If all else fails, my kin in the caves will be on hand."
Wolpan swallowed. "No, I... well, yes, but what about us? We have no camping gear. Are we just going to sleep rough?"
Dora felt her face twist in the first stirrings of real anger. Keshnu somehow managed to catch her eye, though, and the look in his suggested strongly that she hold her peace. She bowed her head, just slightly. The Wilder said, "It's only ten miles to Dyshan. I'll Gate us down there and we can pick up the basics, at least."
"Thia needs a roof over her head and a warm bed. How will she recover like this?" Wolpan waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the unconscious Clearseer. Behind Wolpan's head, Dora made out the twisting, lens-distortion halo she'd learnt to interpret as a sign the speaker was twisting the facts to her own ends. Wolpan's words rippled across the distortion, dispersing to a pinkish mist before they could trouble Keshnu.
The Gift-Giver squared his shoulders and frowned at Wolpan. "Thia will recover more quickly if we don't try to move her. She needs undisturbed rest, and she's in no greater danger here, with the three of us to watch over her, than she would be anywhere else in the First Realm. A tent will suffice us all for one night." Keshnu paused, and when he spoke again there was a distinct edge on his voice. "Now, if you'll please keep an eye on your colleague, I need to make sure Dora's not going to kill us all by accident."
Dora buried her own flinch under satisfaction at the way Wolpan paled. Keshnu walked past the Four Knot before she'd even managed to close her mouth, smiling at Dora. "Perhaps we can also study your remarkable new ability to parry words."
Warmed by the Gift-Giver's smile, Dora followed, careful to avoid meeting Wolpan's eyes. No point rubbing salt into the wound. What Wolpan really needed was someone to put the finishing edge on her training, and showing contempt for her would just make her hard to reach.
Keshnu's step didn't falter as he approached the Sherim, but the low current of Wild Power flowing from it washed the sense of the Gift-Giver's unease down to Dora. Around the Sherim, she could feel the charge hanging heavy in the air, whispering to her in shades of brown and grey, the scents muted and autumnal and infinitely soft. She felt as though she wore a bubble for a helmet, swimming in a sea of particularly fine honey. Keshnu's worries became transfigured, their sharp tang fading back to a welcome counterpoint to the sweetness that surrounded her.
r /> He didn't need to speak; she raised her hands, held them in front of her with palms a hand-span apart, fingers curved so their tips almost touched. Easy enough to do as he wished and tune herself to the Sherim's off-key music. It would be simplicity itself to slide one hand between the halves of the Sherim, lifting with the other to seat them back together as they wanted to lie. Something tingled across the back of her skull, the sensation of- what? A lover's tender, sleeping breath?
Realmspace rippled as she rejected the thought. If nothing else, it couldn't have been hers.
The ripple turned, splashed back over her, carrying with it a caution from Keshnu. Words failed to capture the Second-Realm concepts the Gift-Giver offered, but she didn't need words. She held breathlessly still while he ran his hands over hers, tapped at the construct held between them which captured the unsettled arrangement of ashtmer, ghiten, shelds and bromor.
For a moment, the visual poetry of the arrangement faltered, her hands sounding a sour note. What had she misunderstood? Her knuckle exploded in sharp pain as Keshnu reached around it and tweaked it back into place. The fit was so natural in the new position that Dora found herself wondering how she'd failed to notice dislocating the joint when she did it. Must have
"I'm sorry." Keshnu's voice told Dora he'd recovered well before she managed to straighten up and face him. His face still lacked its usual animation, but he managed a weak smile. "You have managed a feat considered a matter of tenuous myth among my kind. I'm surprised you thought we used any technique that drastic to pass between Realms."
"But the Wildren technique is to do with parting the ashtmer and ghiten, isn't it?" Dora rubbed her arms, hugging herself.
"Yes, but only a little way, and carefully." Keshnu raised his arm, jerkily, and pointed uphill. "As you can see, the Sherim has been stretched out of stable. It will be a long time before this area is safe again." Dora flinched as Keshnu's last word sprouted sleek wings and accelerated past her head. The Wilder continued, "I think I should probably take some time to instruct you in safe methods of handling Sherim."
Dora glanced at Thia, still unconscious on the grass. If Keshnu intended to take them back to Vessit by Gateway, it would be a while before they could go. Still, the thought of trying to think like a Wilder, trying to learn a Wilder's way of doing things... Dora found herself wondering if there'd be anything left of her at the end of it. Was this what the Gift-Givers had envisioned for her and the Second Gift?
Keshnu misread her hesitation. "Don't worry, I'll take a look at Thia first." He handed her a canteen and turned toward the Clearseer.
Wolpan said, "Thank you." She sounded as frightened and weary as Dora felt. Good job Rel wasn't here to hear the subservient tone in the other Four Knot's voice. In fact, it was probably better if he never learned how careless and weak Wolpan was as a Four Knot, or none of them would ever hear the end of it.
Dora shook her head, brought herself back to herself. Keshnu was already half-way to Thia, Wolpan hovering behind him. A stray gust of wind blew hair into Dora's face as she followed, getting caught between her mouth and the neck of the canteen. She spluttered, put her free hand up to trap the hair back, and found it too short to reach the back of her head. Her ponytail was completely missing, casualty of her fight with the Lentu. She dragged her fingers through the resulting tangles, wishing Taslin were here to do something about them.
No, that was selfish, with Thia still fighting to survive the cost of Dora's hesitation and Wolpan's weaknesses. The Clearseer lay still, her tiny frame making her seem childlike as Keshnu knelt beside her. He leant forward, studying Thia intently, chest first and then head. He pressed a hand to her forehead, ran it down her face without provoking even the slightest hint of a stir.
Dora resisted the urge to try to study the Gift-Giver's face. It would have been rude enough to do that to a human doctor, and Keshnu's mind would be on anything but the chore of pulling the right human expressions to match his assessment. Instead, she quelled her worries by watching Wolpan gasp as Keshnu laid his other hand across Thia's chest. Had the other Four Knot never seen a Wilder study a human's condition before?
For that matter, would it really have been so shocking for a human doctor to touch a patient like that while checking her condition? Keshnu needed to check how strong Thia's hold on life was, after all. Beneath his palm, Dora could see the translucent tendrils of his questing consciousness dropping through Thia's skin and into her heart, probing the muscles for any sign of strain.
A warning voice that Dora was becoming too familiar with hearing at the back of her mind wondered shouldn't you find that disgusting? She made a show of looking away again, but there was only Wolpan around to see, and the other Four Knot was staring suspiciously at the Sherim. Was there anything there for her to worry about, really? It hadn't changed in the last couple of hours.
But then, Wolpan would be seeing the Sherim very differently. A tree with a doorway hanging in its trunk, the round portal distending the natural growth of the wood until the tree seemed bloated and grotesque. Wolpan would see nothing of the shimmering web of Second-Realm colours where the two opposing layers of the Sherim kissed, breathing each other's air in drifts of shining mist. Despite the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, Dora had to admit it was beautiful.
Keshnu straightened, then pushed to his feet, back to his usual elegant humanity. "She'll live. There may be some short-term memory loss, unfortunately, so we may lose the benefit of whatever Clearviewing drove her to take such risks. I can't predict when she'll regain consciousness. Were there problems recovering her?"
Wolpan opened her mouth, but Dora saw the lie coming and got in first. "Yes. We... got in each other's way as we were responding, I suppose."
"If you'd-" Wolpan cut off as her words sent a volley of red darts at Dora. Dora raised a hand, reaching for the feeling she'd had last time she'd had to parry the careless woman's voice. Something bubbled through her skin, and a flash of light hid the moment of contact with the darts. Sharp pain stabbed through the veins down the back of Dora's hands, and for a moment, she thought she'd failed, but the fire died away swiftly.
Wolpan looked away, holding her voice lower but not low enough to hide her anger. "If you'd just left me to do my job it would've been fine."
"By Taslin's account, Dora responded on reflex only." Keshnu's smooth, calm tone cut off Dora's attempt to respond. "We can hardly fault her for that, any more than we can fault you for responding. Thia will be well in time. We should be able to return to Vessit tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Wolpan's voice climbed half an octave.
"I'm sure the town will be safe, Wolpan." Keshnu smiled, putting a hand on Wolpan's shoulder. "If all else fails, my kin in the caves will be on hand."
Wolpan swallowed. "No, I... well, yes, but what about us? We have no camping gear. Are we just going to sleep rough?"
Dora felt her face twist in the first stirrings of real anger. Keshnu somehow managed to catch her eye, though, and the look in his suggested strongly that she hold her peace. She bowed her head, just slightly. The Wilder said, "It's only ten miles to Dyshan. I'll Gate us down there and we can pick up the basics, at least."
"Thia needs a roof over her head and a warm bed. How will she recover like this?" Wolpan waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the unconscious Clearseer. Behind Wolpan's head, Dora made out the twisting, lens-distortion halo she'd learnt to interpret as a sign the speaker was twisting the facts to her own ends. Wolpan's words rippled across the distortion, dispersing to a pinkish mist before they could trouble Keshnu.
The Gift-Giver squared his shoulders and frowned at Wolpan. "Thia will recover more quickly if we don't try to move her. She needs undisturbed rest, and she's in no greater danger here, with the three of us to watch over her, than she would be anywhere else in the First Realm. A tent will suffice us all for one night." Keshnu paused, and when he spoke again there was a distinct edge on his voice. "Now, if you'll please keep an eye on your colleague, I need to make sure Dora's not going to kill us all by accident."
Dora buried her own flinch under satisfaction at the way Wolpan paled. Keshnu walked past the Four Knot before she'd even managed to close her mouth, smiling at Dora. "Perhaps we can also study your remarkable new ability to parry words."
Warmed by the Gift-Giver's smile, Dora followed, careful to avoid meeting Wolpan's eyes. No point rubbing salt into the wound. What Wolpan really needed was someone to put the finishing edge on her training, and showing contempt for her would just make her hard to reach.
Keshnu's step didn't falter as he approached the Sherim, but the low current of Wild Power flowing from it washed the sense of the Gift-Giver's unease down to Dora. Around the Sherim, she could feel the charge hanging heavy in the air, whispering to her in shades of brown and grey, the scents muted and autumnal and infinitely soft. She felt as though she wore a bubble for a helmet, swimming in a sea of particularly fine honey. Keshnu's worries became transfigured, their sharp tang fading back to a welcome counterpoint to the sweetness that surrounded her.
Realmspace rippled as she rejected the thought. If nothing else, it couldn't have been hers.
The ripple turned, splashed back over her, carrying with it a caution from Keshnu. Words failed to capture the Second-Realm concepts the Gift-Giver offered, but she didn't need words. She held breathlessly still while he ran his hands over hers, tapped at the construct held between them which captured the unsettled arrangement of ashtmer, ghiten, shelds and bromor.
For a moment, the visual poetry of the arrangement faltered, her hands sounding a sour note. What had she misunderstood? Her knuckle exploded in sharp pain as Keshnu reached around it and tweaked it back into place. The fit was so natural in the new position that Dora found herself wondering how she'd failed to notice dislocating the joint when she did it. Must have