Drago stared at her with a mixture of awe and sadness, finally understanding what—or
who—she was.
―I thank you,‖ he whispered, and bowed slightly.
―Nay,‖ Katie said, ―it is I who will one day thank you.‖
She put her finger into her mouth and sucked it, and the wisdom in her eyes faded back to
that of childish curiosity.
Drago put the bowl on the floor, and retrieved his staff. Standing very straight, he dipped
the end of the staff into the bowl and began to blend the mixture.
His face was intense, every movement deliberate and almost part of a carefully rehearsed
dance.
Faraday blinked. Her senses were overwhelmed by the scent and sight of a vast plain of
wildflowers, dancing in the wind even as they reached for the sun. Birds and butterflies dipped and swayed above the waving sea of blossom, and Faraday thought that in the distance she
could hear the crashing waves of the ocean.
All she wanted to do was to run through the flowers, run until she was exhausted, and
then collapse wondrous within their midst, letting the beauty envelop her…
She blinked again. The flowers had vanished, and the room was before her.
Both Katie and the lizard were staring at her, but Faraday did not see them.
All she saw was Drago…Drago now dipping the staff into the bowl, now withdrawing it
glistening with a liquid Faraday could not identify, and tracing the end of the staff over the lines
of the enchantment.
Everywhere the glistening tip of the staff traced, flowed colour—every colour of the
rainbow, until the entire enchantment glimmered and shifted with a thousand shades and
permutations of colour. Overcome with its beauty, and the sheer beauty of Drago‘s
enchantment—had StarDrifter or Axis ever created anything so wondrous?—Faraday‘s eyes
glistened with tears.
Drago had finished with the enchantment. He raised the staff one more time, dipped it
into the bowl, and then sharply struck the floor with its tip three times, and then twice more.
The enchantment collapsed inwards. It fell over the creature, covering every pore of its
skin, and then…then it slowly sank in.
Faraday could understand it in no other terms. For an instant she‘d thought the
enchantment was evaporating, but then she‘d realised it was actually sinking through the pores of
the skin of—
Leagh twisted over, and gave a hoarse cry of horror. She wrapped her arms about herself,
and curled up to hide her nakedness.
―Faraday!‖ Drago said, and Faraday swiftly knelt beside Leagh, gathering the woman
into her arms, and hiding her face against her shoulder so that she should never see the pitiful
state in which she‘d been living.
Drago strode over to the door that connected to the adjoining chamber, ordered out Zared
and the two waiting women who stood there, and grabbed a blanket from the bed.
He returned, and helped Faraday to wrap Leagh in the blanket.
―Leave us,‖ Faraday said quietly, her arms tight about Leagh, and Drago nodded.
He retrieved the bowl, slipping it back into the sack where it apparently disappeared
without trace, picked up the staff, took Katie by the hand, and prodded the lizard with the toe of
his boot.
The outer door swung closed behind them, and Faraday lowered her face into Leagh‘s
filthy hair and wept.
56
The Field of Flowers
Faraday sat there a very long time, holding the shivering woman in her arms, and
weeping. Then she sniffed, wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, and resolved to cry
no more this day—this was a day for joy, not grief.
It took some effort for Faraday to persuade Leagh to her feet, and even then she was
weak and hardly able to walk. Finally, as they stumbled towards the adjoining chamber, Leagh
found her voice.
―Askam,‖ she croaked.
―He betrayed you,‖ Faraday said, ―and brought you to this.‖
―Why?‖ Leagh whispered. ―Why, why, why?‖
Faraday did not know if she was asking why Askam had done this to her, or why she‘d
sunk to such a dreadful physical state. Having considered, and not known what to answer to
either question, Faraday chose instead to remain silent, guiding Leagh towards a great tub of
water that stood steaming before a leaping fire.
―Oh, ye gods!‖ Leagh wept as Faraday let the blanket fall to the floor, and she saw the
full extent of her depravation in the light of the fire. ―How…did I get to such a
state…what…Faraday? Why are you here? Where is Zared? Why am I—‖
―Hush,‖ Faraday murmured. ―One of the first things my mother taught me was that
no-one can fully understand any answers when the first thing they need is a bath, a meal, and
then some rest.‖
―But—‖
―Lift this foot. Good. Now the other one.‖
Leagh gasped as she sank down into the hot water, partly in shock, partly in pain, as the
heat bit into her scratches and sores, and part in sheer wonderment at the comforting embrace of
the water.
Faraday rinsed out a cloth, lathered it with soap, and washed Leagh down, wondering
wryly if she was to be condemned—through all her lives—to repeating the actions of her first.
Here she knelt by the tub washing a pregnant Leagh as she had once sat on Azhure‘s bed and
washed her, feeling the malevolence that even then had emanated from the belly swollen with the
infant Drago.
Now? Faraday‘s hand slid gently over Leagh‘s belly, feeling the life within. What had
happened to it? Had it been reborn, redeemed, as Leagh had?
Or…?
Leagh‘s hand closed over hers, pressing it against her belly.
―Tell me,‖ she said, staring at Faraday.
Faraday hesitated, then felt for the baby with all the power she possessed, bending her
head down so that the ends of her chestnut hair trailed through the bath water.
Suddenly Faraday snatched her hand away and rocked back on her heels, covering her
face with her hands. And then, despite her resolve of only a few minutes before, she burst into
tears.
―Faraday?‖ Leagh cried in panic.
But Faraday slowly lowered her hands, and Leagh saw that she was crying in joy.
―Did you know,‖ Faraday said, ―that you have a field of flowers growing within you?‖
Deep in the hours after midnight Theod and Herme sat at the small table, a jug of rich ale
between them. Several empty jugs lay on the floor.
―What‘s happening?‖ Theod asked a fortieth time. His voice was hoarse, halfway
between anger and desperation.
What was happening?
What?
A footstep, and both men jerked their heads up.
Zared.
He looked between the two of them, then his gaze settled on Theod.
―My friend,‖ he said in a voice very gentle. ―I think this is something you should see.‖
Theod stood up, stumbled, knocked the chair over, then gained enough control of himself
to walk in a reasonably steady fashion over to Zared. Zared took his arm, and turned him for the
door.
―May I?‖ Herme stood also, and Zared looked over his shoulder.
―Yes. If I thought it possible, I would ask the entire city to see this wonder…but I think it
is a feat that perchance they will see soon enough anyway.‖
Theod stood before Leagh‘s bed, staring, not believing, not daring to believe. His
shoulders shook, as if he was about to sob, but he gained control of himself with visible effort
and stared towards Drago, standing in semi-shadow by the fireplace.
―Is she…can she…‖
It was Leagh, rather than Drago, who answered. ―I is,‖ she said, and smiled, holding out
her hand for Theod. ―And I am. Theod, will you not come sit beside me?‖
She was wan, and patently exhausted, but it was Leagh who sat there propped against the
cliff of snowy pillows, not some demented fiend, and although Theod allowed Zared to guide
him to Leagh‘s side, and sit him down, and even though Leagh took his hand, still Theod could
not allow himself to believe…to believe…
Drago stepped forward into the light, although the leaping fire still sent shadows chasing
across his face.
―Leagh has returned from death, Theod. And what I did for her, I can in some measure do
for all those who screech and wail and crawl through the dirt.‖
Theod opened his mouth, then his face crumpled, and he sobbed. Faraday sank down on
the bed behind him, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, leaning his head against hers.
―There will be further miracles,‖ she whispered. ―Never doubt that.‖
There was a silence then, save for the crackling of the fire.
Leagh looked about the room. At her husband, whose haggard face revealed the extent of
his worry for her. At Faraday and Theod sitting so close beside her on the bed, Theod weeping
out his grief with silent tears that wracked his body. At Earl Herme who stood pale-faced just
inside the door, but with a gleam in his eyes that Leagh had never seen there previously.