38. AVAN
38
AVAN
The three who’d come with sunfall were strange. Before Anandas, Avan had never seen anyone take out the earring of their family and then leave that hole bare. Anandas had done it for only long enough to visit with everyone after they’d walked the Winter Paths, and then he’d taken a ring for Rose and himself. Avan had always thought it was for poor Rose’s benefit.
These three all had taken out the earring for family and left a gaping nothingness there. Two spoke with a southern dialect and were decked out as if this was a Vashana though none had been sanctioned.
“This is a healer’s house,” Avan said, approaching them with care. “Neither of you look hurt.”
“A healer’s house?” one of the Southerners said. “We heard of a white-eared healer marching with city dwellers.”
Avan cocked his head. He’d used city dweller in the human tongue.
Avan straightened. “You are not a healer, but if you were, you would know the oath. It is to help those in need, all those in need.”
The third one, the one who hadn’t spoken a greeting, snorted.
“It needs not saying that a good healer doesn’t give his skills to city dwellers, but never mind that. Your ears are not so white that you can lecture me.”
But my fist is strong enough to humble you, Avan thought. He didn’t like the disrespect, liked it much less considering Anandas had left a recuperating city dweller in Avan’s care.
Avan lowered his chin. “True. But they are white enough to tell you to find what you seek elsewhere. Clearly, it is not healing, and that is all you’ll find here.”
The second Southerner smiled at Avan in a duplicitous way, the expression not reaching his eyes. He had very white teeth—one chipped. His expression said, I want to take, and I will take from you. Avan had no patience for such people, a trait Avan’s own father had chided him for while Rose praised it. Rose was quite a likable human in that way.
“You can’t know what we want, little four-wing sprout. Where is that healer who’s been helping the cities? He is your teacher? We have teachers too. Why don’t you come learn from us, hmm?”
Avan didn’t have to give an answer to that, because the speedling with that strange color hair arrived. He was carrying another human, that one with hair a touch more muted, but still unusual for humans. The cities truly must be wonders once you go beyond those fearsome walls.
The three fake Vashana warriors shuddered with surprise but settled quickly. Of course with the speedling arriving, Col came out of the house, his affection pulling him toward where he shouldn’t be.
Avan turned. Why can’t Rose sit on him? He threatens to sit on Anandas all the time, but the one time it would be useful, he does nothing.
There was a sharp noise, then the speedling hissed. He was there, in front of Avan suddenly, the weak human eyes wide to catch all the light they could. No, wide with pain. Wide eyes can be darkness, lust, or pain, Anandas said.
Avan saw the blood hit Col’s face, heard a small pop.
“Avan!” Rose reached him then, pulled him away by the wrist.
The yelling started, immediate and cruel. Avan’s ears hadn’t tuned to the human tongue enough to make out all the words that came rushing out of them. The one with the pretty hair was a skin shifter, turning his hands into blades that he used against one of the Southerners who was attacking, the second one with the chipped tooth.
The first one’s knife arm was bleeding heavily, and he’d dropped his knife. The speedling—he’d become a shield to Avan, giving the gift of protection—covered Col now, turning shield for the healing soother.
“No! Run!” Avan yelled even as he felt Rose’s roots rise from deep below their feet.
The third Southerner, the silent one, he was reaching for the speedling, and where human eyes were too dull to see it, Avan made out the black ring low in that one’s left ear. At that placement, he can bend the speedling, or worse, drain him.
“This is no Vashana! You cannot!” Avan shouted at them.
That was when Rose’s jaw dropped. Rose knew what it meant to have your will bent if only by Anandas. A thick root broke through the packed soil right next to the bender, but it was too late. The bender slapped his palm against the speedling’s neck, made doubly easy as he was sheltering Col with his bulk.
The neck was good for draining them fast, and Avan, dread coiling through him, expected the speedling to drop.
He did not. The bender was surprised. Just then, the skin shifter roared, slashed Chipped Tooth and kicked the one who’d wanted to stab Avan, then punched the bender.
Rose’s root twisted, pushing the skin shifter back and pulling the bender the other way.
“Are you okay?!” Col fought the speedling’s hold, reached up to his neck. “What did he do? What the fuck did he do to you?”
The rest of what he said, Avan didn’t understand.
However, the skin shifter turned toward them. There was blood on his face, not his own, but more strikingly, small blades as well. They almost look like the spikes of a winter king’s crown, Avan thought. It’s beautiful.
“What the fuck was that?” the sharp one asked.
Avan understood that too, but he didn’t know how to answer it.