in4 by Jackie

Author:Jackie
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-07-17T19:44:59.525509+00:00

With a reluctance that surprised him, Domenic dropped out of the circle. Vision returned. He blinked. His eyes burned as if he had been too long in the sun. The others had also roused and were putting away their starstones. Sammel got to his feet, stamping and shaking his arms. Fiona stretched and yawned. Lew looked tired but peaceful.

Frowning, Illona bent over the sick man. His face seemed less haggard, but his breath still wheezed through his lungs. The infirmarian came over and, with a new trace of deference, asked Illona if she had been able to help the patient.

"He fares a little better, I think," she said, "but I do not know how long that improvement will last. This is no ordinary lung-fever. There is some virulence in his blood that I have never encountered before."

"I am not surprised." Sadly, the monk shook his head. "This fever has resisted all our remedies.

Anything you can do for him will be appreciated."

Illona rose slowly. "I will search our medical archives, and with your permission, either I or Fiona, who is our most skilled healer, will return later today to tend him."

When the infirmarian hesitated, she said, "This cannot be easy for you, to be set apart so long from women and then to admit not one but two of us. However, as long as the patient remains stable, I can send Sammel or Domenic instead."

Relief flickered behind the old monk's eyes. "That would be better, at least for a time, vat leronis.

As you have rightly surmised, we are set in our ways and accept change but slowly."

With that, the Tower party took their leave.

Domenic returned to the monastery later that same day to check on Garin. He went alone

because Sammel was clearly exhausted, although the older man had made no complaint. Fiona mentioned that Sammel had already worked all night in Silvana's circle. "He thinks he can keep going without rest, as if he were one of those Terranan machines," she whispered.

Domenic was happy to be of use. He was not especially tired, for a meal had restored him. More than that, he now found Illona's nearness disturbing. She had slept much of the afternoon, but he could feel her presence, as if he had taken the iridescent mist, the stuff of stars, into his soul. He needed to think, to concentrate on something else, to gain some small clarity of thought. He did not want to examine the possibility that he was in love with her. Truly in love, utterly and without reservation, from the very core of his being, as he had never been with Alanna.

The improvement in Garin's condition that resulted from the work of the circle that morning had almost completely disappeared. No faint color touched the sick man's cheeks, although he roused as Domenic settled himself on the bedside stool. A pottery pitcher of honeyed

cider, still warm, had been left by the bedside. Domenic lifted Garin's head and held a cup to his lips.

Sighing, Garin licked his lips and rested back on the thin pillow.

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