Chapter 23 Tiana #2
I remembered stories from my training where kidnap victims would develop feelings for their captors.
There were no magical treatments for mental conditions, but I’d learned to spot the signs so a vicar could be called to help.
Now, I was feeling affection for the woman helping my abductors.
Don’t be stupid, Ti. Stay on guard.
“I’m Bet. Just sit still, and I’ll try to help ya feel a little better.”
Bet took my wrists one at a time and placed a palm over my rope burns. The familiar Healer’s glow flared from Bet’s palms. In seconds, the angry marks vanished. Without a word, Bet placed her hands on the sides of my face and Healed my clouded mind and bruised body.
The crone sat back and lowered her head, waiting for a response.
I rolled my neck and probed the clarity of my mind. It felt wonderful to think and move without everything hurting. I braced myself with a hand on the table and stood, putting tentative weight on my legs.
“Feel all right?” Bet struggled to her feet, gripping my arms for balance.
“Much better. Thank you.”
Bet turned toward the stairs, but I reached out. “Wait. Please let me return the favor.”
Bet quirked her brow but sat and watched as I placed my palms above the woman’s withered knees. The brilliant Light that flared from my palms startled the old woman. It was the brilliance of a rising sun next to the dimness of Bet’s dawn Light.
As I completed the Healing, I leaned in and whispered, “Why are you helping them? Please . . .”
Bet’s eyes darted to the wildcat and back. She shook her head, and fear flashed in her eyes. I thought I saw a tear forming and decided not to press.
“I can’t return what age has stolen, but there was some damage I could Heal. Try standing now.”
Bet accepted my hand and slowly rose to her feet. A smile burst from her lips as she bent and straightened her knees. “There’s no pain when I bend, Mistress. Thank you. You’re such a blessing!”
Bet squeezed the breath out of me with a surprisingly strong hug before scampering down the stairs. I smiled as she vanished from view. There was nothing in the world like Healing to lift my spirits.
That’s when I noticed Wildcat staring at me from the railing. My heart sank again.
He pointed to the food and made an eating gesture, then crossed his arms. I was a bite from finishing my meal when the bull’s head rose above the stairs. He strode to the table and sat on the opposite side.
“When you have finished eating, change into the clothes on the cot.” He pointed to a wooden cot in the corner I hadn’t noticed before. Spread across a colorful, fluffy quilt were a neatly folded pair of brown trousers and a light-blue shirt.
The bull tilted his head. “Do you not like them? I was told blue comforts you.”
The comment was so absurd that I laughed, spitting a little of my chicken onto the table. “A Healer’s smock is blue. I suppose, if that’s what you mean, then yes, I like it just fine.”
He nodded once, the matter settled. “Wear those tomorrow. Finish eating, then sleep.”
Before retreating to his own pallet across the landing, the bull placed a vial of familiar liquid on the table and motioned for me to drink.
Were it not for the wildcat still watching, I might have been tempted to pour the potion through the slats.
By the time I finished the chicken and downed the potion, I could hear light snoring from behind the bull’s mask.
The drug wore off in the middle of the night.
I scanned the loft with foggy eyes, trying to process where I was and how I’d gotten there. Reality was slow to return but felt like a punch to my gut when it did. I could see the wildcat and the bull stretched out on pallets in front of the stairs that led down to the barn’s floor.
I sat up slowly.
I feared the spinning of my head almost as much as my captors.
No one stirred.
The men had neglected to retie my wrists and ankles, so I decided to try standing. My head swam, and I had to brace myself on the corner of the cot.
I gritted my teeth and wobbled to the table, feeling more like a newborn deer than a world-class Healer. They hadn’t cleared the table, so I ate the few remaining scraps and found myself more thankful for the half-full pitcher of water than the hours-old chicken.
Still, no one stirred.
The water created an entirely different problem as my bladder pressed against places it wasn’t welcome. There hadn’t been cause to find a place for relief before now, so I had no idea where to even look.
It’s a barn. Where would a horse pee?
I smiled at my ability to maintain some sense of humor in the middle of a kidnapping, but the same amusement that lifted my spirit also gave urgency to my bladder’s call for relief.
I took a few careful steps toward the stairs, and the old boards under my feet groaned. I froze, waiting to see which of the men would wake. Fear mingled with my need to pee, and I had to resist the urge to dance the feeling away.
The men hadn’t been rough with me. In fact, other than tying me up and forcing me to ride in a rolling coffin, they had been almost respectful.
What are you thinking, Ti? They kidnapped you and are taking you who knows where to do who knows what?
I decided my fear was healthy and stoked its embers.
Then I took another cautious step, and another.
I stood directly beside the wildcat, only a few feet from the stairs. I could hear his slow, rhythmic breathing and was confident he remained asleep. I kept my eyes on him and took another step.
This time, the blasted board screamed, and both men bolted upright.
The wildcat asked, “What are you doing, Mistress?”
I shrank back.
He glared, unfazed, so I did a childish pee-pee dance, trying to make sure they knew I wasn’t trying to run. “I have to go. Please.”
He stood and motioned for the bull to go back to sleep, then led me down the stairs and into a stall strewn with hay. The smell of manure made me gag.
“I’ll wait here.” The wildcat closed the stall gate and walked across to the other side, turning away to give me privacy.
When I called out, “I’m done,” he walked back over and opened the gate.
An impulse struck, and I grabbed his wrist, allowing the flow of Healing magic to burst from my palm.
What happened next astonished me.
My magic poured into the wildcat, but there was no darkness of the body’s interior. There was no fumbling to find damage or familiar organs. There was no feeling at all.
In fact, my magic found nothing but an empty shell.
Then something flashed, and my magic rebounded like a child’s ball against a wall. The shock knocked me off my feet.
When the stars cleared, the wildcat loomed overhead.
“Thank you for trying, Mistress. As you could see, there is nothing to Heal.”
He gave me that awful, blank, amused stare. “Time to go back to bed. Morning will be here soon.”