Chapter 12 #3
They stepped into a narrow hall, thin rugs on wooden floors and the air smelling of perfume and incense. Thumps and groans came from behind a door they passed.
Fel quickened his pace, trying to hurry the girl along while glancing back at Syla, as if her sensibilities would be mortally offended by being in such a place.
She thought about mentioning that she’d traveled to brothels before to heal people—not everyone could make it to the temple—but the girl opened another door off the hall.
Gripping his mace, Fel strode in after her and looked around, lifting a hand to keep Syla back as he checked the space.
“I doubt there are enemies lurking in here,” Syla murmured to him, then jumped when a man buckling blue uniform trousers hurried out past them. “I could be wrong,” she added.
Apparently, the girl’s mom wasn’t taking off completely from work.
Head down, the soldier didn’t look at them and hopefully didn’t recognize Syla.
“Hylina,” came a woman’s startled voice from the bed. “You’re supposed to be selling cookies, not bringing me clients. Or, uhm, are you…” She’d been looking at Fel, but her gaze shifted to Syla, and her mouth dangled open in shock.
“See, she recognizes you,” Teyla whispered from the doorway. “You need a cloak.”
“I brought a healer, Mom,” the girl said.
“That’s… You’re…” The mother stared at Syla.
“Yes.” Syla knelt beside her bed, aware of time trickling past. By now, someone might have found those soldiers in the library. By now, Dolok might have put orders out to the entire military to grab her if they saw her. “Your daughter offered me cookies in exchange for healing.”
“That’s… My sister worked at the temple. I know healing costs more than cookies.”
“Perhaps, but I’m collecting offerings for a dragon, so I need cookies right now.”
“I don’t know what to say to that. Is it a joke?”
“Probably. Dragons seem to prefer meat. Sergeant Fel, wait outside, please.”
“Don’t take long,” Fel warned. “If the captain thinks there’s trouble, our ship won’t wait.”
“I know.” Syla made a shooing motion to imply he was delaying her more than the healing.
He harrumphed and closed the door, taking Teyla out with him.
The woman seemed embarrassed to explain her concerns, but Syla assured her that she’d healed all manner of injuries and illnesses, and that little fazed her.
“It’ll be more effective if I use magic on you, but the power might linger and make you feel loyal to me for a time.
Let me know if you’re all right with that.
” Syla had packed a few medications but didn’t have access to the entire pharmacy that existed in a temple, so she didn’t know how effective she could be if the woman didn’t want to be bound.
Syla had brought a contraceptive powder and yerathma root for the trip—just in case—but those didn’t help with sexual diseases.
“Yes, magic is fine. I’ve… never been touched by magic.” The woman looked curiously—and maybe with awe—at Syla’s glowing hand. She used her finger to draw a moon with two eyes over her chest, but then took a deep breath and nodded firmly for Syla to go ahead.
“It’s not too bad. Better than being touched by overly handsy men.” As soon as the words came out, Syla wished she could take them back. She didn’t want to insult the woman’s profession or career choice.
But she laughed. “Most things are, Your Highness. I’m getting long in the tooth for it, truth be told.” She waved to the hallway. To indicate her daughter? “I’m Celena, by the way. It’s real good of you to come in. I’m not one to take handouts though. I’d like to pay you.”
“Your daughter has already arranged that.” Syla smiled and took the woman’s hand. The power in her moon-mark flared with tingling heat, as if it couldn’t wait to be unleashed.
“Cookies don’t seem a fair trade for medical attention.”
“Of course they are. Lots of healers, especially out in the country, barter for their services. I’ve a pen pal at Earth First Temple who goes around to farms to heal people, horses, cattle, and dogs, and she’s often received payment in meat, eggs, and, last winter, she got a lovely wool scarf and mittens. ”
Syla was about to ask Celena to disrobe and let her do an examination, but as her magic surged into the woman, she almost instantly received through their link an overview of her ailments.
Everything came to her much more clearly than it usually did, and Syla wondered what had changed.
Her learning to use her magic for more than just healing?
Or maybe the proximity she’d had of late to shielders and their great power?
Or dragons and their magic? No, that wouldn’t rub off.
Stormers had to do a ceremony to bond with dragons.
Wreylith didn’t think Syla was worthy, so she wouldn’t be sharing any magic with her.
Syla didn’t know the reason, but she easily discerned not only a sexually transmitted disease, as the daughter had said, but an abscessed tooth that would have needed pulling soon.
Celena also had a toenail infection that contributed lesser pain.
In addition, Syla could see that several of her ribs had been broken in the past and healed poorly, and faded bruises lingered on her jaw.
Poor woman. She wasn’t much older than Syla, but this couldn’t be an easy life.
As Syla started healing her patient’s ailments, old and new, Celena relaxed back onto her bed with a groan of relief. “Much better than handsy men.”
“I’m glad,” Syla said, and she was, though she could hear creaks on the floorboards in the hallway.
Fel shifting his weight from foot to foot? Worried they were taking too long?
“Come by, and I’ll make you cookies any time.” Celena gazed through lowered lashes with a look Syla had received from patients before, though more often from men than women. Not just gratitude but adoration.
Syla made herself smile, but gazes like that never failed to make her uncomfortable. Thank the gods that the feelings prompted by her magic usually faded before long. Once she was gone, she wouldn’t likely cross paths with Celena again, so the fondness wouldn’t come into play, even if it lingered.
“It’s my dream,” Celena added. “Baking. Not just for spare change, but I want to open a place in a better part of town. I’m saving for it.”
“That’s a good goal.”
“Yes.” Celena smiled sleepily. She’d probably been up all night, and healing was draining for the patient as well as the healer.
A soft knock sounded at the door, and Fel stepped in with a newspaper tucked under one arm. Teyla slipped in right after him. They averted their eyes, probably expecting Celena to be in the middle of a revealing exam.
“I need a minute more.” Syla glanced at the paper, wondering if Fel had absently picked it up to read on their voyage or if he’d spotted a concerning headline. Probably the latter, unfortunately. Fel didn’t strike her as someone who got the newspaper for the Divine Divinings section.
“Take your minute.” Fel turned, cracking the door slightly so he could watch the hallway. “We’ll want to wait until he’s gotten on his horse and is gone.”
“He?”
“Colonel Mosworth. He just came downstairs from another room.” Fel pointed toward the ceiling. “I recognized his voice, and we came in to avoid him spotting us.”
“We’ve a lot of high-ranking military regulars,” Celena said around a yawn. “Some minor lords too. Important people. The girls here— Well, we’re not proud or full of ourselves. We can’t afford to be. We’ll do things that the expensive ladies of the night servicing the high-powered won’t.”
“General Dolok ever come?” Fel asked.
“I’m not sure about him, but some other generals.
Fleet captains. Especially fleet officers.
And Minor Lord Dallingswok comes regularly for Yeera.
She’s a real looker. Draws a lot of men and commands a high price.
Brings in the Vollard brothers too. They’re rough.
I’m glad they’ve not looked my way.” Celena touched her jaw, maybe noticing that the bruises didn’t hurt anymore—or remembering someone who’d hit her.
Fel looked thoughtfully at Syla.
She’d finished the healing and stood up. “What does that expression mean?”
“Someone contending for the throne and with many enemies could use informants in places where powerful people visit.”
“I didn’t heal Celena so she would spy for me,” Syla said.
Celena surprised her by sitting up and grasping her hand.
“I would love to share the things I see here with someone. Especially if… Dear departed gods, some of those powerful ones think they’re so special.
Above the law. They hurt the girls because they know we can’t do anything about it, that the enforcers would blame us.
If you could change that… I mean, even if you couldn’t, I owe you.
” Her grasp tightened on Syla’s hand, the adoration in her gaze again—the magically induced adoration.
Syla wanted to flee that look. “You don’t owe me anything, Celena, but if I can, I’ll help. I’ll…” Storm god’s wrath, she didn’t even know if she would be able to take the crown. More likely, she would end up in Dolok’s dungeon cell. How was she supposed to help this woman or anyone else?
“Come back regularly, Your Highness, and I’ll tell you everything I see and hear that might be important.
Like I said, all kinds of powerful people come here.
I’d love to help you do something to stop them from hurting others.
” Celena released Syla and clasped a hand over her own chest, though she didn’t add stop them from hurting me.
“I’m off on a mission, but I’ll try to come by again.” Syla patted Celena on the shoulder and made herself walk out, though she wanted to flee from the adoring gaze that followed her.
Once in the hallway with the door closed, she slumped against it.
Fel looked at her, less adoring but still contemplative. “I thought this would be a waste of time.”
“You’ve changed your mind?” Syla waved toward the door to the alley exit.
“Now, I think maybe you should visit every brothel in town.”
“Let’s… fix the shielder first.”
Teyla brightened. “Yes. Our quest awaits.”
Syla hoped Wreylith awaited. It was taking longer than she’d hoped to get out of the city, and they still had to sail to Harvest Island.