Maker of Fire

Lisaykos, Healing Shrine of Mugash

From the doorway, I motioned Kayseo to speak with me in the hallway. She was the youngest of the three healers assigned to watch over the little Coyn. Technically, she was still a trainee on paper. She was such a talent that I treated her like a newly-promoted healer in terms of her duties.

She still had a bit of color left to grow out of her otherwise silver hair and still some more growing to do. I had moved her to her own room on the same floor with the oldest trainees and put Twessera in charge of her.

Kayseo got up silently and left the room. The Coyn looked to be asleep.

"You wish to speak with me, Holy One?" Softspoken and unshakably calm, she always used the correct amount of politeness for every occasion. I liked that about her.

"I want the rest of her scars to go away the sooner, the better. I don't mind if she sleeps it off for the next two days, but don't overdo it such that she sleeps for the next rotation. Don’t tell her either, unless she notices and asks about it. Also, don't leave her alone, even if she is asleep. Pass that on to the others."

"Of course, Holy One."

"And Kayseo, don't let anyone you do not recognize near this room. We've emptied this wing. No one but you and the other two should be up here besides my staff and the Queen. You may use your powers if necessary to defend. Pass that on to the others too. I will be by again in the morning."

"Certainly, Holy One," Kayseo frowned. I’m sure she didn't understand why this little Coyn was the object of such special treatment. I didn’t have the time to tell her tonight. I would have to tell them something soon. I just wasn’t sure how much I should tell them. It was another worry I would need to add to my ever-growing list.

---

The King's scouts, Valley of the Vanishing River

"How long do you think we have to watch this place?" the scout asked his patrol leader.

"We got two rotations' rations, so I'm guessing two rotations, Nate," the patrol leader emptied another bag full of stuff. The cave was full of dried meat, dried fish, Coyn-sized clothes made out of skins, strange engines, and furnaces. The two scouts had already stuffed their pockets full of crystals and were hoping to find more treasure.

"What's all these crocks of stuff? You know?"

"Dunno, Nate. I left 'em alone the other day 'cuz I don't know what that weird writing is."

"Could be spices. You know, like from Uldlip. Could be worth something."

Nate opened the top of a well-made wood box lined with brass and filled with dark grey powder.

"Huh, smells kinda funny," Nate sniffed a pinch of the stuff.

"Whatcha got, Nate," the patrol leader walked over with his sputtering pine-branch torch, which just then shed a spark into the box.

It was the last thing they experienced in this life.

The fire watchtower at Black Falls reported a wildfire on the other side of the lava plains. It burned for a half rotation until the next belt of thunderstorms rolled through on their way east.

---

Emily, Healing Shrine of Mugash

I had a vague plan to skip out of here to somewhere far away. I had lied that my eyes still hurt, thinking my keepers would not be prepared to stop me when I escaped. If they thought I was still incapacitated, then it would be easier to leave, or so I thought. When I began my planning, I realized I had one big problem: I had no idea what had happened to my clothes and shoes.

It was getting warm enough that leaving in the nightgown would not be an obstacle so long as I took a blanket for nighttime. The real problem was footwear. It was impossible to cross the rift valley without shoes. Volcanic glass, scoria, blocky lava, the sharp edges of pahoehoe basalt: these required shoes to walk on them. Otherwise, the rocks would cut up the soles of my feet in a matter of minutes.

I needed my shoes or some replacement for them. My possessions might have been here, maybe even in this room. I could not venture forth from my bed to explore, much to my frustration, because the gang of three were now staying by my bedside around the clock. I was left wondering what had changed.

It was a huge problem. Being around all these Cosm all the time was triggering memories I had worked hard to forget. I was sleeping less and when I did, I would wake with the feeling that something terrible had just happened or was about to happen. I really needed to get out of this place with too many Cosm.

The strange thing was that I was feeling more and more tired, all the time. I would start nodding off and if one of the gang of three noticed, she would come and cast one of those infernal charms on me that put me out like a snuffed candle. I didn't realize until later that the healers were removing all the scars I had from the whippings. The fatigue was a consequence of prolonged healing.

I woke to voices that were snappish.

".......is a problem. Leaving her here is like ripping the scab off an unhealed wound, over and over again. You're not here all the time, but I am, and her mental state is declining daily."

"The Villa is watched by agents of my husband's family. I can't take her there. It has no defenses."

"Then take her back from where you got her. She had a life and a home of her own, and you took her from that, oh wise and great one!" The sarcasm had teeth.

"Rescued, Lisaykos. Rescued! It was not an injury she could have survived in the long term. Besides, I think the northern valleys are watched right now; however, not even the king would dare take someone from one of the shrines. She's safe here."

"We need a better solution," Lisaykos's voice dropped in volume and intensity. "You've taken someone who by every description is self-reliant and self-sufficient and put her in a place where she is helpless and forced to abide the very race that once did her such harm. She can't even get in and out of bed without help."

"Listen to you two," the griffin interrupted. "Start with the little problems that you can fix."

"You do not..."

"Don't interrupt me, Mistress," the griffin snapped. "I am giving you my seldom-offered advice. As I was saying, none of you are being sensible. The first thing you should do is get rid of that bed and put the mattress on the floor, or build a little stair next to the bed that she can use. That way, she is in control of getting in and out of bed without help. That's what you should start with if she is going to spend any more time here. Next, get her some clothes or at least a house coat, and put them where she can reach them. Some stockings or slips for her feet too. These floors are cold."

There was a pause, and then Asgotl continued: "Both of you are gaping so badly that you look like a pair of fish."

"Well, do you have any other great mots of wisdom, featherhead?" Lisaykos asked dryly.

"Several, but you can start with those. Oh, and get the damn bandage off her if you can. Not being able to see is more than half the problem."

"That's what we're here for, Asgotl," Aylem snipped.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know; but one last thing."

"Well, go on," Aylem grumped.

"Stop handling her like an object. Tell her or ask her when you want to move her or touch her. Her experience with being touched by Cosm is to be beaten or whipped. She flinches every time someone touches her to pick her up or move her somewhere. Haven't you noticed that? So warn her before you touch her. For such smart people, I can't believe how stupid you can be at times. But don't mind me. I'm just the hired beast of burden, and now it's my time for a nap."

"I see," Lisaylos remarked, "the griffin has spoken."

I swear I could even hear the grimace she must have been making. I'm getting to like the griffin a lot.

"We should check on our patient before the mouthy griffin stops napping," Aylem sighed one of those big sighs again.

I heard the sound of curtains being closed and chairs pulled up to the bed.

"She slept through that?" Aylem pondered. Then she tapped me lightly on the forehead, "wake up, time to check your eyes." I raised my head slightly off the pillow as if I had just woken up.

"Alright, let's sit you up," someone helped me up while someone stuffed pillows behind me. "Bring the light, please." The Queen unwound from around my head.

"Just like last time, keep your eyes closed until I tell you. Kayseo, put the light out. Now, you can open your eyes." I did so.

"Twessera, crack open your curtain. That's good. Is there any pain?" I shook my head no. We went through several repetitions until the gang of three opened all the curtains and the door. Without the means to escape, it wasn't worth faking pain to fool my jailers any further. Besides, the griffin made some good points.

Now that I could get a good look at my surroundings, the four women of the healing shrine were in long skirts, in grey robes over white dresses. The monster queen wore the same clothes she wore when she rode the griffin: belted over and under tunics, long to the shins and slit front and back, over leather pants and boots. I wondered where she traveled from if she wasn't staying at the shrine.

While I was pondering, Lisaykos got up to leave.

"Where are you off to?" Aylem asked.

"To talk to my scholar attendant, Wolkarys, about some portable steps."

"I would have just put the mattress on the floor," muttered the curled-up griffin in the hallway, head on his front paws with his eyes shut.

"You would," Lisaykos muttered back.

---

Emily, Healing Shrine of Mugash

The griffin was right: life was a lot more tolerable with the ability to both see and get in and out of bed on my own. A stand-alone set of six Coyn-scale steps appeared before the evening meal. I couldn't explore on my own at all since one of the gang of three was always with me, much to my frustration; but I was still abnormally fatigued for reasons I could not fathom.

As it was, the day after the eye bandages came off was the Battle of the Bath. I think the gang of three was convinced I would drown if allowed to try to take my own bath and wash my own hair. I did want to get clean in the worst way. My hair felt oily and dirty and let's not even discuss my armpits, so I welcomed the chance to get a bath; however, I wanted that bath on my terms.

The gang of three wanted to give me a bath and I wanted to bathe myself without an audience. I lost the Battle of the Bath. Thuorfosi, the quiet one who liked to play that stringed instrument that looked like a zither, lost patience and zapped me with one of those infernal charms that left me incapable of voluntary motion. If I had the means to talk, I would have given the three of them a piece of my mind.

They acted like I didn't even know what a bath was. Did they think I was some sort of barbarian wild woman? I know they had good intentions, but so do the flagstones on the road to hell. And then there was the horrid soap. Any of the soaps I made for myself at home were better than the stuff they used. Frankly, in my opinion, the lye balance was all off. Their soap was this brown-gray stuff which was probably made with unbuffered ash water. It was much too harsh for my sensitive skin. Just ask me!

When they were done scrubbing my annoyed self, they put the limp, helpless, and grumpy me to bed in a fresh nightgown.