 
Gifted Apprentice

An Ilvenworld Novella

by

Nicholas A. Rose

Copyright 2011 Nicholas A. Rose

Smashwords Edition

Cover: Joleene Naylor

Editor: Stephanie Dagg

Other Novellas:

Gifted Hunter

Gifted Avenger

The Markan Empire Trilogy:

Markan Throne

Markan Empire

Markan Sword

***

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 - The Healer

Chapter 2 - Decision

Chapter 3 - Waiting

Chapter 4 - About The Gift

Chapter 5 - Lyssan

Chapter 6 - Lessons

Chapter 7 - Gift Released

Chapter 8 - Escaped Criminal

Chapter 9 - Warning

Chapter 10 - Holiday

Chapter 11 - Sickness

Chapter 12 - The Papan

Chapter 13 - The Poor Quarter

Chapter 14 - Healing

Chapter 15 - In Leynx

Chapter 16 - Learning To Heal

Chapter 17 - Disaster

Chapter 18 - New Plans

***

Living on Re Annan was like another universe. A loving family and happy childhood: what more could a man want or need? I wish I was there still.

But fate set another path for me to tread.

Today, mothers use my name to frighten their children; criminals whisper it and pray I am never set on their trail. I pride myself on efficiency and effectiveness.

This is the beginning of my journey from farm boy to Imperial Bounty Hunter, by Appointment to the Markan Throne.

My name is Sallis ti Ath.

***

**Chapter 1 - The Healer**

Romand lifted the linen from the boy's forehead and winced. Dry already, so the fever had still not broken. Barely conscious, the boy burned. The infusions grew less effective every day. Whatever caused this fever was killing the boy as surely as an arrow through the heart.

"He's getting no better," said another voice.

"Of course he is." Romand smiled at the boy's father. He dipped the linen cloth in the bucket of fresh water and wrung it out, before returning it to the boy's forehead. He stood, put an arm around the father's shoulders and led him out of the small room.

"Why do you lie to me?" Emotion put a tremor in the other man's voice.

Romand looked over his shoulder; they should be out of earshot now. "He can hear us, Hayland," he said. "Such things should not be said where the patient can hear, or he will believe it."

"But he's getting no better."

Romand pursed his lips. He gave Hayland ti Ath a level look. Hill farmers were tough people, so he decided to be brutally honest. "No, but we are doing all we can. Keep him watered and cool."

"The Father has ignored our prayers so far." Sadness cracked Hayland's voice again. "There is nothing more to be done?"

"One thing." Romand's blue eyes were devoid of any emotion. "A touch-healer can save him."

"Sounds expensive."

"It is."

Hayland turned and looked across his farm. Three thousand sheep, a little arable land, plenty of water and a rather large house he had built himself.

"I'll find a way to pay," he promised. "Send for this... touch-healer."

Romand smiled. "I already have."

Hayland gripped the other's shoulder. "You are a good man," he said. "You have my gratitude."

Romand looked embarrassed. "Save the gratitude until he's better," he replied. "In case we're too late."

Hayland returned to his sick son and sat in the chair beside the bed. He gently lifted the boy's arm and held his small hand in one of his own. "Come on Sallis," he whispered, "break out of it." Renewed faith, rather than emotion, firmed his words now.

A touch-healer was coming.

***

Hayland's wife, Cellin, had mixed reactions to the news. Pleased to hear something could be done to save their son, she now worried how they could pay a touch-healer, usually the preserve of the rich. She did not air her doubts because hope overcame fear. For the moment.

Busy before the large black range, she kneaded dough and, from the smell, pies already baked in the oven. When building the house, Hayland had ensured he allotted plenty of room for his wife to work; her popular baking raised important additional income.

"Romand says only a touch-healer can save him," said Hayland. "The fever should have broken by now."

Her hands paused briefly before she began to furiously knead the dough. _Don't cry,_ she told herself. _You'll ruin your pastry._ A small problem, in the face of paying a touch-healer.

"We will manage," said Hayland, knowing what caused the silence. "Somehow."

Cellin forced a smile. "We always do," she replied. "Somehow." She turned her face to him and pecked his cheek. A quick kiss of reassurance. "Whatever it takes; he is our son."

Four girls - youngest eight, oldest twelve and twins almost eleven - piled into the baking room, slings left outside.

"All's well out there," said the oldest girl, Merta. "No sign of foxes."

"Keep looking," her father told her. "Where we have newborns, there are always foxes. And watch the sky for buzzards. They'll take a lamb if you're not careful."

"How's Sallis?" asked Tendra, the youngest.

"Sick, but he'll be better soon."

The girls glanced at their mother, perhaps expecting a different reaction. Cellin shrugged.

"Sit yourselves and have some stew before going out again."

The girls obeyed, but none looked convinced that their brother would ever be better.

***

Re Annan was a small island. It would take a cart four days to travel from north to south, and two days from east to west . Not too heavily populated, farms were large and poverty rare, but everybody needed to work hard for what they had. Because so few lived on the island, there was little surplus for an army, so the people were the army. Every household had a sword, bow or ax, and even children could handle slings and staffs.

It meant the islanders were tough, independent and well used to looking after themselves. But the sea had always been Re Annan's best defense, especially against other island nations who occasionally cast greedy eyes on their smaller neighbors.

The island had two towns, one pretentious enough to call itself a city. That "city" was Leynx and home to the Council that ruled Re Annan.

The official ruler was the Papan, but his Council advised him and he rarely dared step out of line. Raised from the council by election, the Papan's life might be very short if he developed ideas beyond his station.

All adults voted every three years to elect Councilors, but only the rich few, controlling the island's trade, ever stood as candidates. Despite this, the people were happy and, for the most part, were ruled wisely. Fertile land produced plenty of food year after year and, while some certainly enjoyed greater riches than others, nobody starved. Or wore rags, or begged.

Forest covered half the island and was carefully managed, with a fresh seedling replacing every felled tree. Except for fishing boats, few ships were built on Re Annan, but the wood found its way into new houses and furniture. The Council knew only fools would deplete their forest and lose the source of their wood.

Although Re Annan furniture was sold overseas, the island's main export was wool, the tough hill sheep producing fleeces in demand throughout the other islands and even beyond, on the distant mainland.

A fertile plain that ran right around the island provided the best land for arable crops. Much of the rest of Re Annan consisted of low-lying hills, dotted with most of the sheep farms. Those hills also boasted known deposits of iron, copper, and tin in the far north, but nobody had exploited them. Most metal products were still imported.

That was part of the downside of there being so few people. The Council often talked about encouraging miners to exploit the minerals, but they had spent three or four centuries making noises and never following up with action.

Another mine produced light crystals, but not for export. Every household on Re Annan now had crystals, so the mine, although kept maintained, was shut and guarded most of the time. It reopened whenever someone built new houses and needed more crystals. The revenue from that went straight into the Council's coffers.

Peaceful and prosperous, Re Annan's people were content. Even better, the troubles that plagued the mainland never spread this far east.

A good place to live.

***

The house was still. The girls slept, and their parents banked the range to keep the fire alive until morning. Cellin had the first watch tonight, in case Sallis woke in the night.

Hayland had watered the boy and ensured the linen on his forehead was wet. The fever felt no different and the cloth still dried out with frightening speed.

"No fever anywhere on the island," said Cellin. "Where did he get it from? What if it spreads?"

Hayland nodded. "He might have picked it up anywhere; children his age do."

"Never seen anything like it," continued Cellin. "Three days and still not broken."

"It'll break." Hayland did not want to think that the longer the fever lasted, the smaller the chance of Sallis surviving.

"I'm going up, he might have woken." Cellin stood, wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and left the room.

Hayland stared at the range in silence, alone with the light crystal glowing white in its lantern. His uppermost thoughts centered on Sallis, but a new worry concerned the touch-healer.

How would - could - he pay?

***

Sallis ti Ath drifted through dreams and half-dreams. Nightmares of dark monsters the size of houses chasing him through forests, while tree branches tried to seize him and snuff out his life. Beautiful dreams of lush meadows and sun warming him as he basked on hilltops, skylarks singing far above.

Dreams of his barely-remembered grandmother, no longer old and wrinkled, but young and beautiful. She hugged him and marveled at how he had grown. Still smiling, she stood back, and told him he should not be here, that his time had not yet come.

He longed to stay and cried out as she turned and walked away, without even a backward glance.

A recent dream, or one days old?

Or no dream at all?

Sunlight warmed him, yet he felt heavy. An uncomfortable heat threatened to consume him. Something damp pressed against his head and a voice cajoled him to wake. He burned; the pain and the fire! What terrible place held him now? He should stay with his grandmother. Beautiful and real, he ached from the separation. This place was... horrible.

***

"He's calling for Mother." Cellin shook her head. How could Sallis remember her mother, his grandmother? Four years dead, yet Sallis must still remember something more than a shadowy figure from his past.

"Just the fever speaking," muttered Hayland.

Romand grimaced as he laid a hand on Sallis's forehead.

"It's getting worse," stated Hayland.

Romand looked over his shoulder, towards the relative darkness where the sun did not reach.

Another man stepped forward, hands held strangely before him. A surprisingly deep voice came from him.

"Time for me to try," said the stranger.

***

Sallis ti Ath blinked a few times. Despite sunshine streaming through the open window, he lay in bed for some reason. Shouldn't he be working? Some chore or other always needed to be done on the farm.

Home, this was home.

But why was he in bed?

He started as a man leaned over him, blue eyes twinkling, a startling sight on ti Ath's brown-eyed island.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his first word coming out strangled. "Where are my-?"

"Sallis." His mother leaned over him, but he could not understand why she looked on the very brink of tears.

Sallis stared at his father. He _never_ cried. Why did tears run down his cheeks?

"We thought we'd lost you," continued his mother, "but Elvallon saved you."

Elvallon? Sallis assumed that was the owner of the blue eyes. At least he knew Romand, who rested a hand on Sallis's forehead.

"The fever is gone," he said, voice awed.

"Of course."

Sallis blinked at the timbre of Elvallon's voice. A cord tied back the man's long brown hair - at least that was normal - and he stroked a neatly-trimmed brown beard. Sallis had never seen a beard before, though his father often had stubble, usually at lambing time when he might go two or even three nights without sleep.

"Have I been ill?"

"Very," replied Romand.

Sallis had a vague memory of collapsing at the sheepfold, but even that seemed dreamlike, as if it had not really happened.

"How do you feel now?" asked Cellin.

"Strange," replied Sallis. "Tired."

Elvallon smiled. "You must eat and drink." His features grew sterner. "And plenty of rest." The twinkle returned. "You will be very weak after fighting the fever."

"I thought you'd cured him," interrupted Hayland.

Elvallon turned his head. "The strength for that came from the boy. And he did well to survive so long." His attention returned to Sallis. "A day, maybe two, and you'll be running around again as if nothing had happened."

"Strange thing," Romand was saying, "but there is no fever anywhere else."

Elvallon shrugged, a merest movement of his shoulders. "These things can happen any time," he replied.

"We spoke of price," said Hayland.

Elvallon smiled again. " _You_ spoke of price," he replied, gently. "I said cure first and then speak of price."

"Whatever is in my power to give is yours," said Hayland.

"A dangerous offer," replied Elvallon, looking at Sallis. "Very well. My price is the boy."

***

**Chapter 2 - Decision**

Hayland and Cellin stared at the touch-healer in consternation.

"Our son?" Aghast, Hayland's hand gripped Sallis's shoulder.

Romand stared at the floor and looked embarrassed.

"Anything in your power to give." Elvallon's blue eyes twinkled.

Hayland shook his head. "For the love of the Father, why Sallis?"

"'Why' is a good question; perhaps you should have asked that one first." Elvallon smiled. "Sallis is Gifted."

Romand lifted his head and realization dawned in his eyes. He looked at Sallis with increased respect.

"Gifted?" echoed Cellin.

Elvallon nodded and lifted his hands. "What I used to cure Sallis is the Gift. Very few are born with it. Your son is one such and he must be taught. That is my price."

"Sounds like you are putting us deeper in your debt," muttered Hayland.

Elvallon turned his head sharply. "Hardly. Many times he will wish it had never happened to him, and to be normal like almost everybody else, but he must be trained. It is a duty."

"You are sure?" Cellin stared at Elvallon. "How can you tell he has the Gift?"

"I knew the moment my hands touched him. When he is a little older, another practitioner might sense it from, oh, twenty pacas or so."

"He's nothing out of the ordinary," protested Cellin. "Just a little boy who's naughty now and then, but dutiful most times."

"He must be taught how to control the Gift, or it might kill him," added Elvallon.

"It's _dangerous_?" Hayland's eyes widened.

"All power improperly controlled is dangerous," countered Elvallon. "And there is worse."

"Such as?" Hayland sounded almost aggressive.

"The other side." Elvallon's eyes held no twinkle now. "They seek children with the Gift as assiduously as I. The Gift comes from the Father but they will corrupt it. This way, Sallis will be under my protection."

"Where will you take him?"

"To my home near Leynx. Of course, you are most welcome to visit and he will still come here for breaks away from training." The healer leaned forward. "In many ways, he will need you even more now."

Hayland and Cellin looked at each other.

"Is anybody going to ask what _I_ want?" piped up Sallis. "This is about me, after all."

All four adults turned to look at the boy, still on his sickbed.

Hayland gestured with a hand.

"If I can do whatever has just been done to me, isn't that a good thing? Helping people?" Sallis sounded eager.

Cellin sat on his bed and held his hand. "We need you here," she said. "We will miss you."

Elvallon smiled. "I can arrange his time here to coincide with your busy spells," he promised.

"On a farm, the busy bit lasts from midwinter to midwinter," Hayland pointed out. "Especially with a few thousand sheep."

"I want to go," said Sallis.

"We could not cope without him," said Cellin.

"We will rely too much on neighbors; they may feel put upon," continued Hayland. "All well and good that-"

Sallis raised his voice. "I want to go!"

Silence fell.

Elvallon wore a secretive smile.

"If this Gift is dangerous to me, it might be dangerous to you too." Sallis stared defiantly at his parents. "If I can heal, then we will be richer when my training is finished. The farm will still be here."

"A wise head on young shoulders," said Romand. "A rarity indeed."

Hayland and Cellin exchanged another look.

"When will you take him?" asked Hayland.

"Not yet." Elvallon's blue eyes were serious again. "Another year, perhaps two."

"That long?" squeaked Sallis. "Thought you meant today."

"I'll keep an eye on you," Elvallon assured him. "But you stay here until I know you are ready."

"What if this... other side... finds him in the meantime?" asked Cellin.

Elvallon's smile returned. "Now I have my eye on him, they will never find out," he said. "That I promise."

***

**Chapter 3 - Waiting**

A year is a lifetime to a small boy, and two an eternity. Sallis continued to learn about sheep and arable crops \- not that his father had much arable land. Hayland usually traded for crops in the nearest town, Hendrek, and he usually spent any spare cash on books.

These latter, exotic items were imported, quite rare and usually expensive. Sallis squabbled with his sisters over who got first turn with any new books Hayland might bring home from his market trips and shared their disappointment if he returned with none.

Cellin ensured all her children received some measure of education in literacy and numeracy. Hayland taught them to fight with a quarterstaff and improved their skills with the slings. Everybody hoped they would never need weapons, but danger and threats thrived in the world; Hayland always said preparation beat regret hands down.

Sallis never forgot Elvallon, nor his wish to learn and help others, but if the touch-healer kept his eye on the boy, nobody ever saw him. His parents, and to a lesser extent his sisters, hoped they never saw the touch-healer again. They did not want Sallis to leave and, after his initial bravado, even he had second thoughts.

***

After his ninth birthday, Hayland let Sallis come with him on the autumn drove. Local farmers took it in turns to act as drover, and Hayland's turn fell this year. Sallis had never left the farm before, except to help at neighboring farms, so he eagerly anticipated this new adventure. And great honor; taking part in a drove marked a rite of passage into manhood.

The drove would see the stock sold in Hendrek, little more than an overnight walk from their farm and not the world's greatest trek. But Sallis relished his relative freedom; after all, walking was a lot easier than many of his other chores.

The autumn weather held good for their long walk. Sallis guarded the drove's rear on the narrow track, allegedly to stop sheep from straying, but the piebald dog Penlow was the real shepherd. He and the leading dog, white with sharp-edged brown stripes and appropriately named Slash, kept the sheep together almost instinctively.

Hayland led, his cries of "Heiptro ho!" echoing about, warning other farmers to gather their livestock and prevent any being inadvertently swept into the drove.

Sallis reveled in it all. The air still held summer's warmth and wild fruits begged to be eaten. Fronds of bracken and fern waved above the low walls marking both sides of the drove road, an ancient track used for this purpose for centuries. Pastureland abounded and, in one or two places, ripening crops swayed in the gentle breeze. All around, the hills presented a glorious display of purple heather and the occasional tough tree with leaves starting to change color.

He and his father might as well be the only people in the entire world.

When they stopped for the night, Hayland showed Sallis how the large enclosures worked to prevent sheep from wandering away while the humans slept. Penlow and Slash lay across the enclosure's entrance, deterring both adventurous sheep and hungry foxes, while Hayland and Sallis prepared their bedrolls to one side. Father showed son how to bend and secure fern fronds to keep the weather off, should there be rain during the night.

They washed a cold meal of flatbread and cheese down with water, before they settled for the night.

"Get as much rest as you can, lad," said Hayland. "It's been a long day."

Sallis believed he was too excited for sleep. Tomorrow and he would see his first town, or at least something bigger than a clutch of farms. He poked his head out from his makeshift shelter and stared at the stars.

So many, filling the clear night sky; most faint, but many bright. And that white strip was no high cloud, but a band of densely packed stars. He began to name constellations and stars, hoping the Ark Star might put in an appearance. He listened to the night sounds and decided to stay awake, until...

... until Hayland shook him awake at dawn.

"A quick breakfast, then we move on," said the older man.

***

Hendrek awed Sallis and Hayland tried not to laugh at his son's wonderment.

Four roads entered the town, and all met at a central square, where the droves congregated. Not only sheep, but cattle, goats, pigs, geese and chickens filled every available space.

Buildings hemmed in the roads and intriguing alleys crisscrossed between the main thoroughfares. Most buildings were limewashed, but there the similarity with home ended. Houses were three, four and sometimes five levels high. Instead of the expected thatch, slate tiles roofed every building.

And the people!

Sallis had never before seen so many in one place. Women wore long gowns and the girls knee-length dresses. Boys and men wore billowing white shirts and snug breeches, although on the younger boys these barely reached the knee. Children went bare-headed, but women wore headscarves and the men either flat caps, like his father, or tall affairs that looked like short chimneys.

"We want this way." Hayland had to raise his voice to be heard over the racket of the square. "There's our pen."

Sallis was amazed that they did not lose a single sheep, mainly due to the watchfulness of Penlow and Slash than any skill he or his father showed. Rams showed interest in ewes they had never met before, but they were eventually herded into their pen with varying degrees of willingness.

Men and women, dressed in far grander clothes than Sallis had believed could exist, wandered through the throng, making offers and exchanging tokens.

Sallis stared all around and listened to the hawkers.

"Meat pies! Fresh today and still warm!"

"Cures for sheep rasp! Remedies for distemper and mange!"

"Fresh fruit! All picked today!"

He stared at the meat pie seller and licked his lips.

"Take care, lad," said his father, in a low voice. "Many of these street vendors lie like tooth-drawers."

"He says the pies are fresh."

"Aye, the pies maybe. But what about the meat that goes into 'em? You wouldn't be the first to suffer a bellyache. Be careful."

Sallis ignored the vendors after that. He listened as his father haggled with the buyers, eventually settling on twenty sceyts a head for the sheep.

"Is that good?" he whispered to his father.

"Not bad," replied Hayland. He shrugged. "Only a little less than last year, so maybe prices will recover soon."

Hayland exchanged tokens, so he could collect the contracts later.

"How do the other farmers know we won't tell them we got less and pocket the difference?"

Hayland gave his son a level look. "You are beginning to display a dishonest streak," he told him. "This is why we have the contracts, so everybody can see what we got for them."

"Is it safe to carry all that money about?"

Hayland laughed. "That's why it stays here. Every centage goes into the bank and they look after it for us, until needed."

"Is that why you come here so often?" Sallis was curious.

"It is. A necessary evil."

"Can I come with you next time?"

Hayland ruffled his son's dark hair. "Of course you can. Travel broadens the mind. And you might be better than me at finding new books."

***

Sallis managed one more trip to Hendrek with his father before winter descended. It turned into one of those rare winters when snow and ice lay thick on the ground for weeks at a time and the large black range in the kitchen burned day and night.

He and his father made a sledge for collecting firewood, as their huge stack depleted very quickly. Foxes grew bolder and were ever harder to drive away; they struggled to survive too.

Everybody waited eagerly for the first signs of spring. They welcomed the lengthening days, and the white snowdrops and yellow sunbursts that showed winter's iron grip had finally slipped.

This year marked the completion of Sallis's first decade. The first year he could help his father with the lambing unsupervised, ensuring the ewes were fine and free from complications. And that all the lambs were properly looked after, watching carefully for ewes who might reject their offspring.

The winter proved more resistant than normal to spring, so ewes and lambs needed rather more care than usual, at least in the early days of the season.

After two days and a night spent on the hills, Sallis and his father returned to the house, hungry for fresh stew. They found his mother and sisters at the range, all looking solemn.

A man stepped from the shadows, a familiar twinkle in his blue eyes, and his neat beard recently trimmed.

"Good morning, Hayland," said Elvallon. "I trust all is going well? I have come for the boy."

***

**Chapter 4 - About the Gift**

Elvallon's cart rattled along the road and eventually crested the last pass. Sallis leaned forward and his mouth dropped open. Hills reared to both sides, smaller than the small mountains now behind them. Pastureland had now given way to arable fields. But this did not catch the boy's attention; that was seized by the vast plain running to the sea. From the road, Sallis stared at converging rivers and the wide estuary below.

The estuary plain was not completely flat; small hills rose here and there, farm buildings topping every one. Afternoon sunshine bathed them in a warm glow.

Polless, the large carthorse, snorted and shook his head with a jingle of brass, as if pleased for this unexpected rest. He lifted one hairy-fetlocked leg before stamping it down.

"The river floods now and then," said Elvallon. "That's why the farms are built on higher ground. And the floods help keep the plain fertile. The waste from over there also helps." He gestured inland.

At the head of the estuary, built where higher ground sloped to the plain, squatted the largest town Sallis had ever seen. At first he thought a small forest grew beside the city, before realizing he stared at ships' masts.

"Leynx," said Elvallon. "Capital of Re Annan."

"And largest city," added Sallis.

Elvallon said nothing to that, but stroked his short beard thoughtfully as he regarded the boy.

"Do you live there?"

"Nearby," replied Elvallon. "There is not enough room in the city for me to grow my herbs and food."

"You live on a farm?"

Elvallon laughed, a rich deep chuckle. "Nothing so grand. Perhaps cottage garden is a better description. I must still buy some of my food, and I keep no animals, other than Polless."

"Why do you need herbs if you just touch people to make them better?" pressed Sallis.

"Because not everybody needs to be touched to be healed. Some only need a few herbs to make them feel better, because they convince themselves they are ill when, in fact, they are not."

"They waste your time?"

The twinkle in Elvallon's eyes grew. "When people pay for my time, they are not wasting it. Remember that, young Sallis, your first lesson from me."

"I don't understand how touching someone can heal them," said Sallis. He had mentioned this every day since leaving home.

And received the same answer. "You will learn how soon enough," promised Elvallon.

"I hope nothing ever goes wrong with your crops while you are away," said Sallis, still staring at Leynx. "Are they looked after by magic too?"

Elvallon's laughter boomed again. "Someone looks after my crops when I'm away. When I'm home as well."

"A neighbor?"

"Better than that." Elvallon clicked the reins. "Come on Polly, else we'll never get there."

Polless shook his head and snorted again, before starting the cart with a slight jerk.

Elvallon turned back to Sallis. "Nearly there now."

***

Elvallon's home stood on the estuary, downriver from Leynx. The healer had not lied; his home really was little more than a cottage, though not quite as small as he had intimated. Sallis was not too disappointed to be outside Leynx, because he could look to the city from Elvallon's cottage and admire the fine buildings there. The town sprawled across higher ground, with few tall buildings, and Sallis could still see the ships' masts.

"The ships have to pass here to get to sea," Elvallon told him. "They're always heading up- or downriver. Depending on the tide, of course."

Seabirds were much in evidence and Sallis watched those circling overhead, or pecking hopefully on the mudflats. Mostly gulls and terns, there were some strange birds with long orange beaks that were new to him. He sniffed at the air.

"I read you can smell the sea when you're close to it," he said. "I smell nothing different."

Elvallon laughed.

"Is it untrue? Or is something wrong with my sense of smell?"

"On Re Annan, we're never far from the sea," smiled Elvallon. "You're just used to the smell already."

"Oh."

"Let's get Polless sorted and then you can have a look around."

The carthorse was soon comfortable in his stall, tucking into oats.

"Don't worry about his tack," said Elvallon, dumping it in one corner, "it'll get sorted later. I'll show you around now."

Unlike Sallis's family home, this house had only one level, with the stable attached. Liberally applied lime-wash made the whole building white under the thatch that covered the roof. As they went inside, Sallis saw one end of the cottage formed a large living area, with a smaller version of his mother's black range to one side. A round wooden table with four chairs, a workbench with herbs spread over it, more benches for preparing food and rows of kitchen utensils took up one side of the room.

On the other side, on slate flagstones covered with a scrap of rug, sat two large chairs, badly in need of new upholstery. There were also three long shelves full of books. Sallis had never seen so many in one place before.

A peculiar smell hung in the air that Sallis didn't recognize. He said nothing, but could not make up his mind if the smell was bad or not. Or perhaps merely unusual. Certainly not Elvallon's scent.

Two doors led to storerooms. Elvallon kept his food out of harm's way in one of them, and his jars of preserved, crushed herbs in another. A further door led to a narrow corridor with three rooms leading off.

"Thought we'd put you in here," said Elvallon, opening the middle door.

Sallis stared.

Bright sunshine filled the room and Sallis guessed the rooms all faced south to catch as much sun as possible. Shelves and storage areas for clothes and his other effects - not that he had brought much with him - lined one wall. Mats covered the floor, made from some marsh plant or other, and which Sallis guessed he would have to change regularly. Walls and ceiling were painted yellow. A proper bed, instead of a pallet like he had at home, took up one wall, already made up as if he was expected.

"Feather mattress?" he asked.

Elvallon nodded. "And feather pillow and brushed wool blankets," he added.

The large bedroom window had blue outer and inner shutters he could close for privacy. It looked towards the estuary. Pleased with the room, Sallis grinned.

Elvallon led him back into the corridor and pointed to a fourth door at the far end Sallis had not noticed. "Washroom and privy. We've got plenty of water; a spring rises under there, supplies the wash basin and flushes the privy."

Sallis nodded, but his attention was not on the privy. "One of these is your bedroom, but what about the last one?"

"Both these rooms are private," said Elvallon. "This one is mine. Keep your room tidy and we will respect your privacy. We only ask that you respect ours."

"We?"

Elvallon smiled. "Have you seen outside? Let me show you around my herb-garden."

Outside, Elvallon explained how much exercise Polless needed.

"I lend him out at ploughing time, which he _hates_."

Sallis laughed. "He's just a horse."

"I can tell you don't own any horses at home," grumped Elvallon. "If you were more familiar with them, you'd know they've all got personalities of their own. You try getting mine to do anything he doesn't want to."

Sallis stared.

Behind the house, Elvallon showed his new charge where the estuary flowed past. A small, empty wooden quay led across mud to deeper water.

"You don't have a boat," pointed out Sallis.

"Yes I do," replied Elvallon, leading the boy back around the house. "You've just not seen it yet. Right, here's where I grow my herbs..."

Sallis could not hide his yawns.

"Ah, you must be tired." Elvallon smiled. "A quick bite to eat and then an early night, so you will be fresh in the morning."

"What will we eat?" asked Sallis. "I smelled nothing cooking."

The other's smile broadened and he leaned forward. "Time for your second lesson," he whispered.

***

"Cold broth?"

Sallis looked at the two bowls on the range in disappointment.

"Hot broth," corrected Elvallon. "With bread rolls."

"That is not hot."

"It will be in less than a minute," smiled Elvallon. "Every day you have asked me about the Gift and what it is. Here is your first demonstration and explanation."

Sallis stared.

"The Gift grants ways of making things happen that otherwise could or should not. It is the power that led to the creation of everything we see. The world, stars, everything. It's within everything, including us, only most can't touch it. But without it, we would not be, because nothing would exist."

"How come some people can touch it?" asked Sallis.

"A skill granted by the Father, or Siranva."

Sallis's eyes widened. "Mother says it is bad to name... Him."

"Over-familiar perhaps," shrugged Elvallon, "but not bad."

"You will make the broth hot, but how?"

"As I said, this power is in everything, so it's a matter of using the Gift within me to connect and change the Gift within that." Elvallon gestured to the broth. "That's how I touch-heal. The Gift within me connects to the Gift within the sick person, but _I_ manipulate that to make the patient better again."

"But it is really the Gift within the sick man doing the work?"

"A quick student." Elvallon's glance held increased respect. "That's why you felt so tired afterwards. And why sometimes I must use herbs, if the other person is very weak. The very best of touch-healers can use their own strength to heal using the Gift, but I am not so exalted."

"Oh."

"On the other hand, you have the potential to be among the best."

Sallis blinked again. "You said this broth will be hot in less than a minute."

"It is hot now."

Sallis stared at the bowls. Vapor rose gently from the broth. "You didn't touch it!"

"I don't have to. It wasn't the broth I heated, but the air around the bowls. I _am_ touching that."

The smell of the broth reached Sallis now and Elvallon nodded. He wrapped a cloth around his hands and carried both bowls to the table, where Sallis broke the crusty bread roll.

"That bowl's hot," warned Elvallon.

Sallis nodded. "Why can't the Gift be learned?" he asked around a mouthful of bread.

A shadow flickered in the other's blue eyes. "Sadly, it can be."

"Why is that sad?"

"I'm impressed; you are asking the questions today. Sad, because when the Gift is learned, it is not granted by the Father. We call it sorcery then, because it is inspired and controlled by the evil side. The Malefic Sephiroth hates the Father and everything he stands for. I seek those granted the Gift to train and teach them about the Father and the Benefic Sephiroth. Sorcerers also seek out those granted the Gift assiduously, but they try to turn them to the Malefic Sephiroth, to evil."

Sallis's eyes widened. "That is why you brought me here?"

"To teach, nurture, and also protect you."

Sallis looked around the large room. "Am I safe?" Another thought came to him. "What about my family?"

"They won't harm your family." Elvallon gave the boy a reassuring smile. He hoped he spoke the truth. "I reached you before the Gift began to flow in you, so the evil side will not have heard of you."

"Would they if you had not come?"

"Eventually yes. I will not hide the enormity of your Gift from you, Sallis, nor the struggle we are all part of, unwittingly or otherwise. It is a responsibility few wish to shoulder, unlike the poor deluded souls who learn sorcery. They only discover the truth when it is too late."

"I don't understand why I am Gifted," said Sallis. "It isn't in our family. I never heard of it before meeting you."

"That's because it doesn't work like that," replied Elvallon. "The Gift is granted randomly, it's the best protection the Father can give. Else, the other side can just eliminate those families who display the talent. And believe me, they would do that if they could predict who might produce a Gifted child."

Sallis shuddered. He thought of evil people coming when he was still a baby and killing his sisters, his father and his mother... just because of the Gift.

"I'm not sure I want it," he said.

"Good," replied Elvallon. "None of us do. We begin by fearing it and grow to resent being set apart from our fellow people. But once granted, it cannot be undone."

Sallis sighed.

"Come, finish your broth. I will explain more about the Gift tomorrow. You need sleep."

Sallis hid another yawn. "I'll probably lie awake worrying about what will happen next," he said.

"I doubt that," grinned Elvallon. "Sleepwell stalks are in your broth. I guarantee you a good night's sleep."

Sallis yawned again. "You could have warned me."

"Hurry up, or you'll be asleep before you've finished eating."

***

**Chapter 5 - Lyssan**

Drifting in the half-world between sleep and waking, Sallis had the strange sensation of being watched and he woke with a start. As his eyes opened, he only just managed to restrain a yell as he realized that watcher's face hovered only incas from his own.

A pair of eyes stared dispassionately into his own. And what eyes! Gold-flecked silvery gray irises, and vertically slit black pupils. A blue face topped with silvery gray hair told Sallis a creature he had believed only existed in stories stared at him.

He flinched and pushed himself back on his pillows before sitting up. The smell he had noticed in the living area was stronger now and it emanated from the strange being who appeared anything but pleased to see him.

"So this is your new find, _enya_." The owner of those eyes straightened and looked over her shoulder at Elvallon. "He is Gifted?"

Sallis almost yelled again when he saw that not only did the creature's earpoints push up through her silvery hair, but moved as she spoke. Right now, they slanted forward, hinting at doubt or perhaps apprehension.

"Yes he is," replied Elvallon.

The creature's attention returned to Sallis. "I hope you do not expect me to clear up after him." She wrinkled her nose. "He smells."

"You're a fine one to talk," growled Sallis, recovering some of his composure.

Those earpoints shot upright for a moment, before relaxing some. The creature smiled.

Elvallon chuckled and moved forward. "Sallis, meet Lyssan, my sylph. Don't worry, she is not half as bad as she likes to pretend."

"Sylph?" echoed Sallis.

Lyssan gave a sniff of disapproval, and her earpoints wilted slightly. "This is an empty land," she told him, "but there are one or two of us about here. Tell me, are you a cave-dweller?"

Sallis looked confused.

"Come along, Lyssan, let the boy get up in privacy." Elvallon's attention returned to Sallis. "Get dressed and breakfast will be ready the moment you are."

Once out of bed and dressed, Sallis padded through to the main room. There, the sylph passed across a wooden bowl and spoon. He stared at the white contents and noted that breakfast consisted of finely crushed oats cooked with milk. Cooked properly, and not heated using the Gift. Hungry, he ate quickly and mechanically, realizing that he had been allowed to sleep in. Elvallon and Lyssan had probably eaten hours before.

Lyssan turned to Elvallon. "The boy will eat everything in sight," she complained, earpoints slanting forwards briefly. "We will not be able to catch enough fish for him."

"Fish?" asked Sallis. He thought the sylph looked silly, waving her ears about all the time, but wisely decided to say nothing. Lyssan was easily half as tall again and, despite being thin, she looked quite sinewy.

"We take it in turns," said Elvallon. "We fish in the estuary, or put pots down."

"You can't be very good at it," remarked Sallis, jerking a thumb at Lyssan. "She looks so skinny that she must be hungry all the time."

Elvallon smiled while Lyssan shook her head, earpoints stiffly upright again.

Sallis finished his breakfast and stood to cross the room. The stone sink was presumably where to clean the bowl and wooden spoon.

Lyssan almost snatched them out of his hands.

"You said you wouldn't clear up after me," said Sallis.

Elvallon laughed.

The sylph's earpoints twitched, but Lyssan gave him a level look. "Everything must be cleaned and dried properly," she said, which hardly served as explanation.

"Right," said Elvallon. "Lovely day out there. Sallis, your lessons can begin outside, while Lyssan clears up in here."

"And it is your turn to fish," said the sylph.

***

Sallis immediately spotted the boat tied to the small quay behind Elvallon's house. Quite long, despite only having one pair of oars, the boat had a seat at the back and another across the center. Four wicker pots smelling strongly of salt water, some rope, weights and bladders took up most available space in the bottom of the boat.

"Get yourself into the stern," said Elvallon. "We'll begin your lessons as we lay the pots." He sniffed and looked at the water. "We'd best get a move on, the tide'll turn soon."

Moments later, Sallis stared around as Elvallon rowed them across the estuary. "Best place to lay the pots is on the far side," explained the older man. "Plenty of lobsters and scampi gather over there. And we have to keep out of the way of the ships, who must stay in the channel or run aground."

Sallis nodded.

Elvallon pointed over Sallis's shoulder. "You can see where the River Adan enters the estuary," he said.

Sallis twisted around to look.

"That marks the boundary of my land over there," explained Elvallon.

"Do you let Lyssan come over here by herself?" asked Sallis.

"Of course. She's an excellent oarsman and an even better swimmer. Sometimes, she's gone with the boat for two days." Elvallon began to row more slowly. "Nearly there," he said.

"Why is she so grumpy?"

Elvallon said nothing for a few moments. "She's worried that you will replace her. Give her some time to get used to you."

He looked around a few times, finally nodded in satisfaction and pulled both oars across the boat.

"Right, those weights and bladders are already tied to the pots, but let's just make sure everything's running free..."

Sallis's first lesson was to check the pots and lines weren't tangled in anything.

"Ropes have a nasty habit of twisting into knots or around things whenever your back is turned," remarked Elvallon, although nothing was actually knotted or tangled.

Elvallon hefted one of the pots and showed Sallis which was the bottom; that had a short line leading to the weight, the line just the right length to maximize the catch. The top had a longer line that led to the bladder, which acted as marker and as something to catch hold of to haul the pot into the boat again later.

They spent the first hour laying the four wicker pots in likely spots.

"Sounds like you're not altogether sure," remarked Sallis.

"I'm not. Nobody ever can be. Except perhaps Lyssan; sylphs seem to have the Gift when it comes to finding fish. Though she prefers to use a rod."

"Me too," said Sallis, who thought he had joined a strange household.

"Well," announced Elvallon, once happy with the way the pots were placed, "we may as well begin your lessons."

"Oh good," said Sallis, leaning forward on his elbows.

"For now," continued Elvallon, "I'll talk and you listen."

Sallis nodded impatiently.

"The universe," began Elvallon, "is the work of the Creator. Whoever or whatever the Creator may be, the universe was wrought when he smashed the cosmic egg. The stars and worlds, Benefic and Malefic Sephiroths, everything was created in that instant. And it happened by using the Gift."

Sallis blinked, but remained silent.

Elvallon leaned forward. "We believe, or think we know, that the Gift is what holds matter together. It is the glue holding everything in its proper place in reality. Those who can manipulate the Gift, affect reality. They can change things \- for a few practitioners, including themselves - for better or worse. I gave you a small demonstration with your meal last night."

"So if the Father created the universe, who created the Father?" asked Sallis.

Elvallon laughed. "The Father did not create the universe," he replied. "The Creator is responsible for that."

Sallis's mouth dropped open and he almost stood upright, before remembering that the boat might suddenly become unstable if he moved.

"The Father is part of this universe; he and the Sephiroth to which he belongs were brought into being by the Creator's action. And for that matter, so was the Malefic Sephiroth, the side we fight and struggle against."

"I was taught that there is only the Father," countered Sallis.

"Effectively yes." Elvallon smiled. "So far as we know, the Creator plays no part in the universe now."

"Why not? And how did the Creator come to exist?"

"Philosophical questions to which we have no clear answers. Whatever lies outside or beyond this universe is transcendental to it and there is no way of learning about that on this side of the grave. If even then."

"What made the cosmic egg?"

"Another philosophical question. What we do know is that the act of creation brought about the Benefic Sephiroth and the act of destruction - of the egg - wrought the Malefic Sephiroth. Creation also destroyed the equilibrium that existed before. Ever since, the universe and everything in it, has sought to restore that balance, and has not yet succeeded."

Sallis shivered. "The Gift was created at the same time?"

"No, the Gift already existed; it was the tool _used_ to create," corrected Elvallon. "The traces of that creation are in everything and _we_ use those traces to affect things around us."

"Scary." Sallis shrugged. "I'm not sure I understand."

Elvallon sighed. "Few do."

"So if everybody has the Gift, how come everybody can't use it?"

"Because not everybody can unlock its potential within themselves," replied Elvallon. "A few are born with this ability, and that is granted by the Father. Others seek it, usually for their own gratification, and that greed is exploited by the Malefic Sephiroth, who are only too happy to recruit fools for their cause."

"What is their cause?"

"To recreate creation in their own image. There is something of both Sephiroths in all of us, though some tend more one way or the other. Some species lean more towards one or the other. Only the ilven belong purely to the Benefic Sephiroth."

"Ilven?"

Elvallon laughed. "Forgotten on Re Annan already. Ilven are the Sephiroths' warriors, the blunt end of the struggle. Well, the adult ones are anyway. Like the young of any species, they are quite winsome during their childhood, which is the part they spend here."

"Do they have a choice which side to fight on?"

"Of course not, boy; ilven are born _into_ their Sephiroth. Those on this ilvenworld are benefic ilven, watched over by the Father. This isn't the only ilvenworld, just the one we know about. We share it with the ilven."

"There are bad ilven?"

"Malefic ilven, yes."

"Oh."

"They are not here, and you can thank the Father for that." Elvallon smiled. "But ilven aren't our worry. Other people are."

"Those serving the Malefic Sephiroth?"

"You _are_ quick." Elvallon nodded in approval. "Not easy to spot them. Not easy to spot a fellow Gifted, for that matter, but it comes with practice. We tend to cause... fluctuations that others can sense. Sylphs are especially sensitive."

" _Sylphs_ are Gifted?"

"No. The Father offered, but they refused. They can sense the Gift and sorcery, however, whenever it's used near them."

"Why can't we?"

" _We_ can," corrected Elvallon.

"Those who aren't Gifted cannot," pointed out Sallis. "So why can sylphs, who aren't Gifted either?"

Elvallon narrowed his eyes. "You see deeply, for one so young."

"Me and Da used to talk about all sorts of things," replied Sallis. "He says sensible questions are good."

Elvallon tried not to laugh at the qualification. "Sensible questions," he echoed. "Wise man, your father."

"And he also taught me to see when someone is trying not to answer a question. I'm not five years old."

"Wise indeed," muttered Elvallon. He shrugged. "Perhaps sylphs have some talent for the Gift, but we don't really know. They can just sense it in use."

"Is that why you have Lyssan?" pressed Sallis. "So she can tell you if enemies come near?"

"I have Lyssan because someone must look after the place when I'm elsewhere healing sick boys. She works hard for her keep."

"But she can also tell you when enemies come near?"

"It's more likely that I would sense them first," replied Elvallon. "Now, you settle down a bit and we'll begin with some exercises."

Sallis settled down.

Elvallon looked all around, to make sure they had not drifted too far. "The pots can wait a little longer," he said. "These exercises are designed to prepare you for actually touching the Gift. Eventually, they'll come naturally, but for now, it will be slow. Take your time. Empty your mind of everything and think of nothing. Let your mind drift..."

***

**Chapter 6 - Lessons**

Spring turned to summer and Sallis grew increasingly irritated with his lack of progress. Like all young boys, he expected things to happen on the instant and resented waiting for anything. Elvallon treated this impatience with amused tolerance and assured the boy that everything would eventually click into place.

Sallis also learned to fight in rather more conventional ways, kept busy with quarterstaff and sword on most days. This training was not the cause of his impatience and frustration.

The problem concerned the Gift, or rather touching it. Sallis repeated the exercises with varying levels of concentration and became increasingly convinced that he was not Gifted. When Lyssan went fishing, he practiced in Elvallon's herb-garden; on all other days he practiced on the boat.

"It will never work!" he announced one afternoon, closer to tears than he would dare admit. "You're wrong, I have no special gift."

Elvallon looked up from his book and wagged a finger. "You are Gifted. I am not wrong. Try again."

"I've tried for weeks and weeks! It-"

"Try. Again." Those blue eyes hardened.

Sallis sighed.

Someone was conspicuous by her absence whenever Sallis tried to touch the Gift, or Elvallon demonstrated something. Lyssan quickly melted away whenever she suspected lessons involving the Gift were about to begin. One time Elvallon gave a small demonstration at the dining table and the sylph scuttled away without even offering an excuse.

"Damn," exclaimed Elvallon. "I keep forgetting about that."

"About what?" Confused, Sallis looked at the closing door.

"When I said sylphs can sense the Gift, I forgot to mention that they hate sensing it anywhere near them."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh."

"Perhaps you should have a human servant," suggested Sallis.

"Maybe." Elvallon sounded non-committal. "But you don't have to pay sylphs."

***

Not all lessons concerned the Gift or weapons. Sallis learned rather more than he wanted about the two Sephiroths and their eternal battle for supremacy. Not only worrying to learn all about the different levels of gods and demons, but for one raised to believe in only the Father, it was upsetting to learn that even He held only middling rank.

He learned about the different races - human, ilven and sylph - and how they interacted with each other. Sallis looked at Lyssan with fresh eyes after those lessons and with considerably more sympathy.

His education included matters of diplomacy and politics. Elvallon supplied him with plenty of books, more than he had believed actually existed. Some were fascinating and a few even terrified him.

Sallis also learned from Lyssan, even if those lessons were, at least initially, reluctant on the sylph's part. She resented sharing chores with him, despite Elvallon's claim that they were "character building", whatever that meant. Sallis thought the sylph ought to be pleased to have someone to share the work, but no.

"You want to see me destitute and begging for crusts?" she demanded of him.

Sallis was mystified. "Why would I want that?"

The sylph did not explain.

Once she accepted Sallis must work with her, Lyssan had intimidated him some, growling about how things should be done and criticizing all his attempts to clean one thing or another.

"Not like that," she would say, taking a pot out of his hands. The first time she muttered under her breath in a strange language Sallis did not understand, he had stared at her uncomprehending.

"You cannot speak sylph?" Lyssan's earpoints stood bolt upright through her hair. A grin quickly replaced her shock. "That means I can say anything and you would never understand."

The sylph language was added to his list of subjects after that, but not taught by Elvallon. Lyssan proved herself a patient teacher and Sallis learned faster from her than he did from Elvallon.

"Shame she is not Gifted," the healer grumbled one time. "She might have better success drawing that out of you, too."

Sallis soon realized that sylphs had more than one language. The silent language of earpoints was one that he learned sylphs had no control over whatsoever.

There were sometimes days when Elvallon was called into the city, healing some sick person, or to dispense herbs. There were many healers in Leynx, but the wealthy always called on him first.

Sometimes, Elvallon was away for two or three days at a time and Sallis was then left to Lyssan's tender mercies.

But it was not very long before Sallis realized that his human tutor was right. Lyssan's tongue might be like an irritable hornet having a particularly bad day, but she was patient. And as he came to understand the language of the sylph's ears, the more often he saw that words and earpoints often told two very different stories.

And the earpoints told the truth.

Facial expression might show exasperation, but earpoints suggested laughter. Silvery gray eyes might be calm and certain, but earpoints shouted doubt. Stance suggested impatience, but earpoints showed contentment.

The night of the thunderstorm exposed one of the sylph's vulnerabilities and, for Sallis, a turning point in his volatile relationship with Lyssan.

***

Elvallon was away and not expected back until the next day. The storm followed a humid day that sapped even the energetic Lyssan's strength. Sallis had never seen her sweat before. He hadn't realized sylphs could, though a comment that perhaps she didn't usually work hard enough to sweat was ignored.

Sallis spent his day reading and practicing the quarterstaff. Sulking over his rude comment, or perhaps because she'd had no rejoinder, Lyssan rowed across the estuary in the morning to fish, and kept away after she returned. Though she did watch part of the time he whirled the staff about, discomfiting imaginary enemies.

The moment Sallis became aware of her, she moved away again.

After sharing a cold meal, they went to their separate rooms.

Sallis had been asleep about two hours when the first flash lit his room. He blinked in the darkness, wondering if he had perhaps imagined the sudden brilliant light, when the sound reached him. A low, long grumble that seemed to go on and on.

He lay on his bed, blankets pushed aside in the sweltering heat and tried to remember his father's rule to work out how far away a thunderstorm was. Failing, and concluding only that this storm must still be some distance away, Sallis waited for the next flash.

It was not long coming, throwing wild shadows in every direction. In the silence between flash and rumble, when everything in the world seemed to hold its breath, Sallis's bedroom door swung open and bare feet slapped on the matting.

This time, the thunder was a loud crash and, as lightning flashed again, Sallis saw Lyssan huddled in a corner of his room, head buried under her arms, knees drawn up under her chin.

"It's only thunder," he said. He remembered that the twins were afraid of thunderstorms, but they had never reacted quite like this.

He imagined he heard a low whimper when the thunder came again. Sallis cocked his head to one side, wondering if he could hear wind or rain heading their way. A moment later, rain hammered on the thatch and splashed to the ground. Lightning came more often and the time between flash and crash shortened.

Sallis swung out of bed and crouched beside the frightened sylph. He touched an arm and she flinched.

Another flash and Lyssan threw her arms around him, refusing to let go.

Surprised, Sallis let her get on with it. Hot breath on his cheek, earpoints tucked away, the sylph clung to him.

_This,_ thought Sallis, _is probably a ridiculous sight_. Lyssan was easily half again as tall as he was, yet she deferred to him now. He became aware of her shivers.

"You're cold," he said. Sallis extracted himself and pulled a blanket off his bed before returning to Lyssan.

The sylph nodded her thanks as he draped it around her thin shoulders and she wrapped it around herself. He tucked the corners in. He went to return to his bed, but Lyssan clutched at him. In the next lightning flash, he saw her earpoints were still hidden. Sallis knew that had several meanings, and right now he hoped it meant she didn't want to hear the thunder.

Knowing next to nothing about sylphs, he felt uncertain how to deal with this situation. He supposed as many sylphs as other creatures feared thunderstorms.

The rain eased and the time between flashes lengthened, but Lyssan showed no hurry to leave.

"It's going away now," said Sallis, who began to want his sleep.

The earpoints twitched free. "Might come back. Can I stay?"

"All right." Sallis grimaced. Was there room for two on his bed?

As if she had read his mind, Lyssan drew away slightly. "I will sleep on the floor," she said.

"Well, take the other blanket to lie on." Sallis scrambled back on his bed. He lay awake for a few moments, and listened to the sylph's breathing slow down as her panic receded. His eyes closed, despite the strangeness of having someone else share his room. When he next woke, brilliant sunshine filled the room and the sylph was gone.

Although they continued to banter with each other, Lyssan never showed grumpiness with him again.

Two days after the thunderstorm, Elvallon was proved right, and Sallis finally touched the Gift.

***

**Chapter 7 - Gift Released**

Sallis practiced the quarterstaff, more for exercise than to develop his skill. Early lessons with the staff had been under his father's watchful eye, since few farmers could afford steel weapons and the wooden stave felt familiar. Elvallon had introduced sword training, but insisted Sallis keep up quarterstaff practice as well. He said that martial arts taught discipline and to some people, any traveler who looked like he could not defend himself should expect trouble.

"I've never heard of anybody attacking travelers," said Sallis, remembering the drove to Hendrek.

Elvallon gave the boy a tolerant smile. "Perhaps not on Re Annan, but it certainly happens on the mainland."

Elvallon also warned against using the Gift when attacked, because people usually assumed that meant sorcery, which brought its own problems.

So Sallis twirled his staff and pirouetted on his feet, downing imaginary enemies, thinking of nothing but the staff and his next move. All under Elvallon's approving eye.

Even Lyssan paused in her chores to watch, although she did not agree with weapons. Agreement or not, she looked distinctly impressed and Sallis felt a flush of pleasure. Though why the sylph's approval meant so much he could not say.

"Don't drop the rear too far," cautioned Elvallon. "An enemy might kick the end and that will throw you off for sure."

Sallis did not respond, but corrected his stance and lifted the back of the quarterstaff. He pushed harder.

His head thrummed with strange exhilaration. Little by little, his awareness grew. Lyssan's natural scent grew stronger in his nostrils, though she had moved no closer. He almost heard the air moving around Elvallon as he nodded his head. Colors were brighter and he tasted the salt tang in the air. Something beckoned, inviting him to join with it.

He became one with the world and the universe.

Time slowed. Spinning on his heels, he saw Lyssan's earpoints wilting in slow motion, her turn away even slower. Elvallon's mouth took seconds to drop open in surprise. Plants waved in a breeze that now pushed against him sluggishly. Time no longer moved at the same speed.

Sallis dropped the staff in surprise and put a hand to his head. When he brought it away, normality had returned.

Lyssan had only just turned away, but nothing would now stop her from fleeing into the cottage. Those earpoints were completely tucked away now, like on the night of the thunderstorm.

Elvallon's mouth still hung open.

"What happened?" Sallis's voice squeaked.

Elvallon crossed the short distance and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You just released the Gift for the first time," he said. Pale-faced, worry glinted in his blue eyes. "But I've never before seen what you just did. I've only heard of this in one other."

Sallis blinked. "What did I do?"

"You manipulated time." Elvallon recovered his composure and shook his head. "Your very first release and you manipulated time!"

"I don't understand."

Elvallon's hand gave Sallis's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Maybe this is no consolation, but neither do I."

"What did I do?"

"You'd better sit down; there is usually some shock after the first release."

Sallis sat. Now Elvallon had mentioned it, he did feel a little light-headed.

Elvallon crouched in front of him. "What you did was speed up your movement in time. Some believe the practitioner slows down time itself, but I do not think that is possible."

Sallis blinked. He certainly felt dizzy now. "But I don't know how," he complained.

"You obviously do," snorted Elvallon. "Maybe you can't remember exactly what you did right now. But you will."

"It was hard," complained Sallis. "I might not be able to do it again."

"The next touching of the Gift is easier," promised Elvallon. "And it gets easier every time you try after that. Sadly, I cannot really show you the way with this, it's not a skill I share."

"Do I need to see someone who knows?"

"I only know of one other, and he is more a legend. I've certainly never met him."

Sallis pulled a face.

"All I can do is keep you from harming yourself. When you've touched the Gift a few more times, I'll be able to work out what other talents lie hidden in you."

"How?"

Elvallon smiled. "Like everything else here, it doesn't hurt."

"Why did Lyssan run away?"

"Sylphs can't stand to have the Gift used around them. You know that already. Just the way things are."

"Oh. So she doesn't like me again?"

Elvallon laughed. "Nothing like that. The Gift feels wrong to them. It upsets their sense of placement in the world, or something. Either way, they don't stick around when it's being used."

"Not sure if I like it either."

"Long may that feeling continue." Elvallon put a hand on the boy's forehead. "You're holding up pretty well, for a first timer."

Sallis smiled. "I'm glad," he replied.

***

**Chapter 8 - Escaped Criminal**

Now that he had successfully touched the Gift, Sallis did indeed find it easier the next time, and the time after. Just as Elvallon had assured him. To see the world effectively slowed down gave him a strange mix of feelings, euphoria and fear among them.

The world was his to command and only the fact that there were others like him tempered the sensation of total power. Reduced to the level of an obedient servant, nature kindly rearranged reality for his advantage.

But an inner instinct warned that it wasn't quite so straightforward.

Elvallon constantly reminded him that others who had the Gift or, worse, control over sorcery, could counter him, though even he admitted that anyone able to speed up their movement through time held a pretty good advantage.

Elvallon gave Sallis a couple of days to get used to his new skill but, after breakfast on the third day, he sat beside his pupil in the large living room of his cottage.

"Now let's find out what else you can do." Elvallon smiled and held up a hand. "This bit isn't strictly necessary, but I find it helps my concentration... Sorry Lyssan, you'd better go and water the plants."

The sylph bobbed her head and fled outside without a word.

"Keep forgetting to warn her," muttered Elvallon.

Sallis hid a smile. "Will I feel anything?" he asked.

"You might be aware of me, but maybe not."

Whichever, Sallis imagined he felt his teacher rummaging about in his mind, and that _was_ a strange sensation.

"No projection, which surprises me," said Elvallon, suddenly. "Most can at least ethereally project, but you don't even have that. Strange."

"Maybe a balance for moving through time," suggested Sallis.

"Good lad. At least you're reading those books. Even better, something's sticking in there."

Sallis sighed.

"No shape-shifting or physical manipulation. Now _that_ is the balance against time manipulation. Now, let's see. Quite empty in here, you know."

"You teasing me?"

Elvallon chuckled. "Healing, which I already suspected anyway. Quite a talent here; we all have some, but I think you could be very good with my training."

"Of course," muttered Sallis.

"Hmm."

"What's wrong?" Sallis detected something in the man's tone.

"Not sure. Well, nothing wrong, because you're Gifted. I just don't know what I've found."

"Should I worry?"

Elvallon grunted. "Probably not. Perhaps I should though. Whatever, I think we should concentrate on that next. You're still too weak to cause much damage if it turns out dangerous."

Sallis did not quite like the sound of this.

But they did not get an immediate chance to find out what the skill might be. Despite the Gift, Lyssan returned.

Wide-eyed, her earpoints stood bolt upright.

"Soldiers to see you, _enya_ ," she said.

***

Sallis followed Elvallon outside and stared curiously at the mounted men. They wore leather armor and carried a sword each. There were not many soldiers on Re Annan, where everybody was supposed to help in the defense of their land. The few employed on the island usually concerned themselves with hunting criminals.

"Good day to you, Elvallon sir," said one of the men, giving a broad smile and inclining his head.

"Guardsman Telic." Elvallon inclined his head in return. "I'm afraid I do not know your colleague."

"Guardsman Iqan." The second man also bowed his head as he introduced himself.

"There is a problem?" asked Elvallon. "Rare to see the Guard at my small abode."

Iqan laughed. "No complaints about you. But one of our resident thieves has made a break for it and given us the slip. Dogs chased him close by here, but he's been in the Adan and we want to make sure he's not doubled back."

"I've not seen anybody," said Elvallon.

"On the way out, he was wearing this." Telic threw a shirt towards Elvallon, but a stray gust caught the garment, so Sallis snagged it from the air.

He staggered.

"You all right?" Elvallon's blue eyes held concern, but the two soldiers gave the boy dispassionate glances.

Sallis stared and shook his head, as if to clear it, rather than to answer Elvallon. He felt a vague awareness of another, as if he was nearby. He wasn't of course, but the man had passed here.

"Do you know where the dogs chased him?" he asked.

The soldiers glanced at Sallis again before Telic turned back to Elvallon.

"He's my student," said Elvallon. "Answer him."

"We'll show you where he went into the river," said Telic. "Ever ridden by standing in a stirrup before?"

Sallis had not, but he learned quickly and the ride was short anyway. Standing with one foot stuck into a stirrup, while the horse moved swiftly, felt uncomfortable and Sallis sighed in relief when they reached the river.

Sallis stared into the water and at both banks.

"He went in here," said Telic.

Somewhere behind, Elvallon doubtless readied Polless, for once free from the cart.

"Here actually," corrected Sallis, moving downstream a little.

Telic and Iqan exchanged a look.

"How can you tell?"

Sallis shrugged. Nothing to see or smell, but the escapee's footprints somehow burned in his mind. Only without seeing. This was definitely the strangest sensation in a week of odd feelings, and worse than the time manipulation.

Neither large nor deep, Sallis could "see" where the man had forded the River Adan, as if his footprints glowed on the riverbed.

"He didn't double back," continued Sallis, walking upstream again. "He waded along the river. And came out... there!"

He pointed, just as Elvallon caught up.

"The boy's dreaming," laughed Iqan.

Elvallon put a hand on Sallis's shoulder. "Sure about this?" he whispered.

In reply, Sallis splashed across the shallow river. Despite nothing to see on the stony ground, the man's passing blazed in his mind.

"This way!" he called.

"What's he up to?" demanded Telic. "Hope this is no wind-up."

Elvallon grinned. "Why not follow and find out?" he suggested. "The boy is Gifted, after all."

Sallis became aware of Polless walking beside him.

"Can you do whatever it is you're doing from up here?" asked his tutor.

"I think so," replied Sallis.

A moment later, he swung up to sit behind Elvallon.

"How are you feeling?"

"Great," replied Sallis.

"Still able to follow?"

Sallis smiled. "Oh yes," he replied. "Is this to do with the Gift?"

"Looks like it." Elvallon twisted his head to look at his apprentice. "And you could make your fortune with this."

The footprints that only Sallis could detect led them into a wood, where the escaped thief had clearly looked for a hiding place before finally giving up on the idea. The man had crisscrossed the wood, but Sallis did not need to follow every step to know which footprints were the most recent.

Almost opposite their entry to the woods, the man had left them again.

Iqan grunted an exclamation and pulled dyed wool from a small branch. The looks they now directed at Sallis held increased respect.

"Never knew you could use the Gift for this," said Telic.

Elvallon smiled, but gave no other reply.

_Neither did you, or you would have said something to me earlier,_ thought Sallis. This skill must be the mysterious something Elvallon had sensed earlier.

They rode through a couple of hamlets, and people there confirmed that a shirtless man had run through and kept going. Sallis had no need to ask. He was unsure exactly what he sensed, but he had a feeling that the footprints were getting brighter.

"We're getting closer," he said.

"Certain?" asked Telic.

"Very." Sallis was pleased that Elvallon did not once question anything he said. Considering he had never heard of this talent, the man's trust boosted the apprentice's confidence.

Sallis hoped he deserved that trust.

Another small wood, close to the edge of the plain, and Sallis led them straight to a small stone-built hut, its thatch badly needing replacement.

"In there," he said.

Moments later, the thief was under arrest again and tied across one of the horses.

Sallis thought the man looked rather ordinary. He had always imagined that criminals would be marked in some way, that they might look mean or somehow stunted. But he might pass this man a hundred times and never remark him. He stretched out a hand, but the moment he touched the escapee, he no longer "saw" where the man had been. And that felt even worse than when he could.

"How did you find me?" demanded the thief, twisting in his bonds. "Trackers?" He sneered at Elvallon and Sallis.

Telic laughed. "You should know that the Guard have their ways of knowing everything," he replied.

Iqan paused and inclined his head to Sallis. "Thank you," he said. He turned to Elvallon. "Keep this boy; we will need him again."

"The _boy_ is the tracker?" squeaked the thief, surprised. He stared at Sallis and the boy suspected the criminal had memorized his face.

He and Elvallon watched the two men ride away with their captive.

"I've never seen anything like that before," said the older man, looking at his apprentice with respect. He shook his head. "The Father constantly amazes. Never even knew such a thing was possible with the Gift."

Sallis blinked a few times.

"I'm going to be sick," he announced.

***

**Chapter 9 - Warning**

Sallis's illness lasted two days.

"Too much too soon," said Elvallon, in one of the few moments when the weakened boy felt he dared ask a question. "It takes most of us months of practice to use so much at once. You will be very strong when you reach your full potential."

Lyssan proved herself a gentle nurse, ensuring Sallis stayed cool; she fed and watered him, catering for his every need. Given her initial reaction to him, Sallis supposed he should be grateful. Or perhaps the incident with the thunderstorm had created a bond of sorts.

Sallis knew it would not be _the_ bond; sylphs only bonded with one owner at a time, and most strongly with their first owner. He dare not ask why Lyssan had been separated from her sister in the first place. He had no wish to reopen old wounds.

"Can't you heal me?" he asked Elvallon.

"Not this," replied his teacher. "It was brought on by using the Gift, so trying to cure it with the Gift will only make you worse. But don't worry, you should bounce back soon." He shook his head, partly in admiration. "You used substantial levels for more than an hour and not mere dribbles. I could follow the residue of what you did even now. Only days since you first released it, and already you're stronger than many practitioners."

"I don't understand what it _is_ that I did."

Elvallon smiled and patted the boy's forehead. "Give it time," he replied, vaguely. "You will."

***

As Elvallon had promised, Sallis recovered quickly. Too much of the Gift would not kill, because the body refused to allow practitioners to use too much.

"This protection is not granted to sorcerers," said Elvallon. "Something done by the Malefic Sephiroth strips that meager barrier away. Or perhaps something done by the Father puts it there."

"You said it was the same power," said Sallis.

Now the conversation had turned to these matters, Lyssan made her excuses and left the room.

"It is, but the way the practitioner touches it is channeled by one or other of the Sephiroths. What _they_ can do with the Gift is amazing, but then they are higher beings."

Sallis shivered.

"So everything I can do with the Gift is controlled by the Father?" he asked.

"Ultimately, yes," smiled Elvallon. "But you are blessed with choice. Many are reckless with choice, instead of responsible. Many see an easier way, a more... tempting way. A way to even greater power."

"Sorcery."

Elvallon nodded. "I must tell you that even some blessed with the Gift are tempted away by the Malefics. And once granted, the Gift cannot be taken away. Such people are especially dangerous, because they have both the Gift and sorcery."

Sallis pulled a face. "Now you're talking like they're two different powers again," he complained.

"In some ways they are." Elvallon shook his head. "The power itself is the same, it's what holds everything together. But how you touch it is different. The skills you can learn are different: the Father controls which skills we have, the Malefics do the same for sorcerers."

"If sorcerers use the same power, why are they so bad? Isn't that same choice within us?"

"Always yes. But power is like strong alovak; it is easy to grow addicted. The main difference between the Gifted and sorcerers is this: we do not ask for the Gift, we do not seek it. They do. And they want it for one reason only, which is to set themselves apart from their fellow creatures. For advantage, to gain power _for themselves_. Pure selfishness. And the Malefic Sephiroth corrupts even those who seek it for nobler reasons."

"How? We have free choice, you say."

Elvallon smiled. "You do see wisely for your years. There is much potential in you." He spread his hands in mock surrender as the boy frowned at him. "When we touch the Gift, what we do is controlled by whichever Sephiroth we follow. That means they must know what we're doing."

"They can read minds?"

"Some would say what they do is worse than that. We let them in."

"We _what_?"

"Nobody is certain; perhaps one of the Ten could explain it better, provided you ask the right one of them, that is." Elvallon shrugged. "But every time you touch the Gift, every time you use it, the Father, the Benefic Sephiroth, can touch you, make you part of it, or perhaps it joins with you in some way we do not understand."

"That's horrible!"

"Yes." Elvallon waited.

"They... they could do anything!"

"Yes."

"Hurt... kill..."

"Make you do things you don't want to do, make you dance like a puppet, turn you into something you are not... The list is probably endless." Elvallon smiled now. "And here is another difference: the Benefic Sephiroth isn't interested in gaining control or power over you. It prefers _you_ to use the Gift wisely."

"And the Malefics?"

The smile widened. "The Malefic Sephiroth seeks dominion over everybody. Which is why they'll eventually corrupt any practitioner of sorcery, no matter how noble his aims. Power is addictive and, bit by bit, sorcerers become their creatures. Oddly, the only ones who can resist are those who also have the Gift."

"But there is nothing stopping anyone who is Gifted taking power for himself," said Sallis.

"Several things," replied Elvallon. "History, peers and fear."

Sallis shook his head.

"History teaches us that people come to fear those who are different. We could easily take power, but when people rebel because they fear their ruler, we can only hold power by oppression. That only has one end. Far, far better to offer guidance and advice to rulers - if asked. And while our peers can live with Gifted ruling Gifted, they know ordinary people cannot. Magiere fell, in the end."

"Magiere?"

"The greatest city built anywhere. Now only members of the Ten know where it is."

"They seem to know a lot."

"Indeed. They built it."

"What happened?"

Elvallon sighed. "Magiere was corrupted because two of the Ten turned. Greed, selfishness, human weakness; I do not know. Even the Ten are only human and share the same weaknesses. Perhaps those two were more susceptible. Only the two concerned know their reasons."

Sallis managed a small smile. "How do we manage to stay in control?" he asked. "Everything seems set against us."

"Hardly everything. The Gifted cooperate with each other. We can and do work as a team. Most sorcerers are too selfish to work for anything but their own ends. _We_ work for the greater good."

"But they are always there."

"Evil always is." Elvallon smiled. "Where I come from, the army has a motto: 'United We Conquer'. Remember that, it says quite a lot about human nature."

Sallis shivered.

"You can go home tomorrow, for a holiday."

"Home?" Sallis's eyes lit up.

Elvallon nodded.

"For how long?" Sallis grinned.

"A week or so. You've worked hard and your family need to know that I'm not starving you to death or anything. But be warned: do not grow too lazy. Practice something every day, even if it is just your special trick with the quarterstaff."

***

**Chapter 10 - Holiday**

From the start, Sallis knew his was a working holiday.

He had worried he might find it difficult to fit back into his old farm life, but instead he found it easy. On the first day, it seemed a century had passed since he had left home, but within two days, it felt like he had never been away.

Tendra, the sister nearest his own age, told him in a whisper so loud it might be heard in the next village, how Merta had found herself a boyfriend and already planned her marriage.

Sallis had started in surprise, forgetting that his sisters also grew older.

Hayland and Cellin welcomed their son home warmly enough and introduced him to the newcomer on the farm.

"This," said Hayland, gesturing, "is Barten. Barten, meet my son, Sallis."

Almost fifteen, Barten was quite a bit older than Sallis and the younger boy learned he had just met the target of Merta's affections. He wondered if his parents knew, or even suspected.

Even they must have been young once.

"From a couple of villages over," said Barten, hazel eyes twinkling. "Elcdray, in fact."

"Never been there," replied Sallis, shaking the larger boy's hand.

"Then that does you credit," laughed Barten. Sallis hoped the older boy knew nothing about him being Gifted. There was no hint of that in the older boy's stance or words.

"Thought you might like to do the rounds tomorrow," said Hayland. "Barten's pretty good with sheep. We've only lost a handful of lambs this year."

Barten made an offhanded gesture. "Good rams and good ewes help," he said, dismissively.

Sallis blinked. "Or maybe my expert help at lambing time," he suggested.

The other boy made his eyes go wide. "You know, that might be the real reason," he admitted. "Right, I'd best get back out there."

"That Barten's a good, helpful lad," said Cellin, while checking on her baking. The door to the large black range stood open and heat billowed into the room. Cellin gave a couple of pies a good prod and tsked when she found they needed still more time. "That pastry'd best not burn," she muttered.

"Everybody seems to like him," said Sallis, choosing his words carefully.

"Well, he makes himself useful, instead of drooling over my baking all day."

Surprised, Sallis blinked.

Cellin crossed to her son and gave him a hug. "We missed you," she said. "Barten cannot make up for that."

Sallis grinned and hugged his mother back. "At least he hasn't got my old room," he said. "I thought I might end up sleeping outside."

"He'd be sleeping outside if it came to that," promised Cellin.

The next day, Hayland, Barten and Sallis made the rounds together. Sallis noticed the new fencing and repairs to some of the stone walls, pulled down by sheep years before.

"Learns quick, does Barten," said Hayland. "And a proper demon for work."

Barten looked over his shoulder and grinned. "Those walls needed a bit of attention," he said.

Sallis failed to smile back. To his way of thinking, Barten seemed a little too good to be true.

"How much is he paid?" he asked, absently.

"A share of the profits," replied Hayland.

"Sylphs are cheaper," said Sallis, absently. He recalled Elvallon's words. "You don't have to pay them."

Hayland chuckled. "Outside of Leynx, sylphs are like gold nuggets," he retorted. "And cost nearly as much."

Sallis stopped dead in his tracks. "You cannot afford one?" he squeaked.

Hayland gave his son a confused look. "Of course not; there're hardly any sylphs on Re Annan and the ones already here are usually specially imported. Way beyond my financial reach."

"Oh."

"Besides," smiled Hayland, "they smell."

Sallis laughed and shook his head. "It's only sinabra," he replied. "They can't help that."

"Either way, we don't need any," said Hayland.

Sallis looked at Barten's back and wondered.

***

Back in time for the midday meal, Sallis realized he had grown used to flat land for daily exercise. His legs ached after the hills they had traipsed up and down during the morning. Despite that, he enjoyed seeing familiar land again. His favorite corners were unchanged, for which he was grateful. It would have proved a shock if they had changed. After all, he'd not been gone all that long.

Later, as the sun set over the hill behind the house, Sallis and Barten were alone. They perched beside each other on Sallis's favorite summer rock.

Silence stretched uncomfortably.

"So you are Gifted," said Barten, eventually. So much for him not knowing. Of course, Merta would have said.

From the older boy's tone, Sallis realized Barton was wary of him. Something they had in common. He shrugged.

"So Elvallon reckons."

"A lot of power, for one who is young."

Sallis gave the larger boy a quick glance. Was that jealousy? "I would give it all away and be ordinary, if I could," he said.

"If you could."

Sallis paused and recalled his tutor's words. _"You'll never know who they might send. A girlfriend, an older brother type, or someone to intimidate and bully you. Be on your guard against the Malefics at all times."_

Sallis nodded. "If."

The sun was almost gone now, but the day's warmth lingered.

"Most people are wary of the Gift," continued Barten. "They fear it."

"But you don't?" Sallis twisted to look at the older boy again.

"Oh, I do." The other boy laughed, but it sounded forced.

"Then you are brave sitting so close to me." Sallis smiled. What had Elvallon said about sensing practitioners? Sallis wished he knew how. Something else that apparently came with time and practice.

Barten shook his head. "You are young and probably not very skilled with the Gift yet."

_If only you knew,_ reflected Sallis.

"Either way, I must watch my step." The other boy laughed again. "Falling in love with a sister of one of the Gifted..."

"What do you know about the Gift?" pressed Sallis.

The other boy blinked. "Nothing. As far as I know, you're the first person I've met with it."

"And you want it for yourself?" continued Sallis. "Learn it perhaps?"

"It can be _learned_?" Barten's eyes widened. "I thought you had to be born with it."

Sallis looked away again. "Only by fools."

"What is it you can do?" asked Barten. "With the Gift?"

"I'm still learning my talents." Sallis considered. "I'm pretty good with a quarterstaff and sword. I already knew how to use a sling. Hum, let me see. What else? I can pull my sister's boyfriends apart..." He reached out and jabbed the older boy in the lower ribs.

Barten yelled and moved vertically about three feet, before landing and glaring at Sallis.

Laughing, the younger boy darted away and shook his head.

Barten tentatively checked his ribs before he began to laugh as well. "You little... That was a trick!"

Sallis grinned back. "The look on your face," he chortled. Inside he felt rather more serious. Had Barten been what he feared, the reaction might have been very different. But was the boy exactly what he appeared to be, or did he play a deeper game?

***

Romand called in one day of Sallis's holiday. The herbalist inquired after Elvallon and Lyssan, and was pleased to learn both were well.

"No need for me to check your health now, young man," chuckled the healer, before leaving them alone again.

Later that day, Sallis realized what bothered him so much about Barten, and it had nothing to do with the boy himself.

He was jealous.

Barten and Merta disappeared together soon after supper. Sallis watched them heading up the hill, probably to watch the sunset. And have a cuddle, no doubt, as the air chilled. As his sisters grew older, the family would be scattered. The girls might end up anywhere on the island or, if they were really lucky, anywhere at all off it.

His parents had already lost their son; Sallis doubted he would return permanently to the farm once his training finished. To be a touch-healer like Elvallon, he would probably have to leave Re Annan. He doubted there were enough people on the island to justify two touch-healers.

And as his sisters reached marriageable age, his parents would lose their daughters as well.

Could they cope with the farm alone?

Most neighbors had extended families living either on the farm, or nearby. Most farmers on the island were at least distant cousins, but sons usually stayed with their parental family, while daughters moved away. Though rarely all that far, if they stayed on Re Annan.

Sallis doubted if he would have a family. His teacher had warned that was unlikely.

"Everything has a price, my boy," Elvallon had said, "and we lose the ability to have children for the Gift. A poor bargain, but no choice when the Father holds all the cards."

A poor bargain indeed and, not for the first time, Sallis wondered if the Father was truly as good as people liked to believe.

Dangerous thinking, but Sallis liked to consider all possibilities. Why would the Father, doubtless a higher being of some sort, feel any more empathy towards humans than Sallis did towards, say, his father's sheep?

The Father might belong to the Benefic Sephiroth, but that did not mean he necessarily cared about humans' welfare.

Sallis shuddered at these uncomfortable thoughts.

Well, if he wanted to make his fortune healing sick people and tracking down criminals, he could ensure his parents were looked after properly. Elvallon had told him that sylphs made excellent farmers, so long as they didn't deal with animals larger or more ferocious than sheep.

Sensing his young master's confusion, the piebald dog Penlow joined him and pushed a wet nose into his hand.

Sallis patted the dog absently and tugged gently at the long ears.

"At least you're still my friend," he muttered.

He hoped that the Father was, also.

***

**Chapter 11 - Sickness**

Sallis's holiday, full of hard work, ended all too soon.

"Thought I might get three weeks out of it," he grumbled, when Elvallon brought Polless and the cart to the farm.

"You'd better get packed," said the healer, for some reason looking harassed.

While Sallis packed his clothes and other effects, Elvallon chatted with the family and met Barten for the first time. Sallis returned to see his teacher congratulate the older boy and shake his hand.

No reaction, which meant Barten was no sorcerer.

Even if pleased to have his suspicions allayed, part of Sallis almost _wanted_ Barten to be something evil. When had he become so jealous?

Once his apprentice was on the cart, Elvallon clicked the reins and they moved off, Sallis turning to wave at his family until they were out of sight. Behind, he saw a grinning Barten, one hand on his eldest sister's shoulder.

"Hope you're not too upset returning to your studies," said the healer.

"You met Barten," said Sallis, ignoring the question. "What do you think of him?"

Elvallon smiled. "The lad's going to steal your oldest sister away," he replied. "And I suspect neither can wait."

"That's not what I meant."

"What's bothering you, lad?"

"Jealousy, I think. He showed a lot of interest in the Gift."

"Some people do."

Sallis looked up at his teacher. "And how many of them do something about it?" he asked. "Either become sorcerers, or decide to hate us for the power they believe we have over them?"

Elvallon sniffed and clicked the reins. "Come along, Polly."

Polless ignored the prompt and continued at his steady, sure speed.

"Good point," said Elvallon, after a long pause. "I'm no Seer and neither are you, so we have no way of telling. Whatever the future holds for Barten is probably entirely up to him. If he's that way inclined, then something other than meeting you could trigger a reaction."

"So if I hadn't gone home..."

Elvallon gave Sallis a firm look. "Nonsense. Whatever Barten does or does not do is his decision. Whichever route he chooses is _his_ choice only."

"You did cut my holiday short though." Sallis tried to keep accusation out of his voice.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Sickness in Leynx and an excellent opportunity for you to witness healing in action."

"Oh. Why are you here, instead of healing?"

Elvallon chuckled. "I nearly sent Lyssan, but even gentle Polly would intimidate her, so I decided to come for you myself. Besides, they haven't called for me yet."

"Must they do that?" Sallis stared at his tutor. "Why not offer your services?"

Elvallon grunted. "Because there is a thin line between helping and interfering. Remember that, young Sallis. Never offer, always let them ask. Never give people an excuse to think that you are trying to gain influence or power for yourself. Let them believe _they_ grant _you_ that privilege."

"I never realized we had to fear them," remarked Sallis.

Elvallon gave his student a sharp look. "Perhaps not fear them, but certainly respect them. To some minds, we are as bad as sorcerers. The masses cannot or will not distinguish between the Gift and sorcery. People do not fully trust us, simply because we _are_ different. And when mistrust turns to fear, not even the Father can save us." Bitterness tinged the healer's smile. "You will see it in Leynx."

***

Pleased to see him again, Lyssan gave Sallis a warm, welcoming smile. He said nothing, but hoped there had been no thunderstorms during Elvallon's absence. He doubted it: the weather was wrong for storms, at least of the sort the sylph feared.

"Anything for me?" asked Elvallon.

The Papan's Guard will return tomorrow," replied the sylph. "Your presence is demanded in the city."

Elvallon smiled. "I suspected it might be. Did they bring any news?"

"The sickness is now contained within one quarter. The poorest quarter, but the Papan and Council have said they will meet your charges."

Elvallon turned to Sallis. "See, you only need wait and they come to you rather quickly." He turned back to Lyssan. "Any deaths reported?"

"They didn't tell me," replied the sylph, earpoints twitching, "but people are seriously ill."

"Poor people always live in the crowded corners where accommodation is cheapest," said Elvallon, for Sallis's benefit, "so disease always spreads quickest there. Either way, the authorities have done well to contain it."

"Father says there are no poor people on Re Annan," said Sallis.

Elvallon laughed. "Relatively poor then. Unable to afford the best in Leynx. I agree nobody starves here and that your streets are not infested with unwanted people and sylphs, but you do have some who are poorer than the rest."

Sallis subsided; that part was certainly true. "Are you going to wait until tomorrow?" he asked.

"No." Elvallon shook his head. "We will wash, eat the meal that Lyssan is about to start preparing for us any moment now..."

Pausing, he looked at his sylph. Lyssan's earpoints wilted and her lips thinned, but she eventually nodded and dashed inside.

Elvallon continued. "Then I will put some things together, and we'll go to the city."

Sallis smiled.

Elvallon's expression did not change. "When we are there, say as little as possible and pay careful attention to everything I do. You might pick it up, or you might not, but leave all Healing to me."

Sallis nodded.

"Do not touch anybody and do _not_ try the Healing yourself."

"Why not? If I can see how you-"

"No." Elvallon's expression firmed. "Newly-Gifted usually practice on lesser creatures before they heal people or sylphs. Lower beings rarely form lynch-mobs if you get it wrong. Get healing wrong with people and life gets very uncomfortable, very quickly."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh. And I'm not having my reputation destroyed because my apprentice doesn't quite know what he's doing yet."

"All right, I'll just watch."

And as things turned out, that proved a very wise decision.

***

No matter how Elvallon shook the reins, shouted and cajoled, Polless continued at his steady plod. If he must pull the cart, then he was quite happy to do so at his own pace and not a fraction quicker.

Or perhaps the hairy-fetlocked carthorse sulked because he hadn't yet been fed _and_ had already spent most of the past few days tugging the cart with its cargo of idle humans.

Or perhaps, Sallis realized, his imagination had run wild since his holiday.

More importantly, they neared Leynx. Despite feeling sad for the sick people within, Sallis's excitement built as they entered the city. It certainly boasted a lot more streets than Hendrek. Elvallon went directly to the city center.

The cobbled square held two fountains and a few people stared curiously at the cart.

Elvallon gestured towards a squat, colonnaded building on one side of the square. "The Papan's palace." He gestured to a rather plainer, if larger, building opposite. "Government House. That's where the Council meet and where all the bureaucrats work. It's the place that bogs ideas down for five years before spitting something unrecognizable out again."

"Sounds good," muttered Sallis.

"That's government in action," said Elvallon. "They're all the same in some respects."

Guards stepped forward as Elvallon took the cart right up to the palace steps. He leaned down.

"Some of your colleagues called on me today," he said. "I decided to come now, instead of waiting until tomorrow. I'm sure the Papan does not want to be kept waiting."

One of the men nodded. "Elvallon. You know where the stables are, I'll ensure you're met there."

"Does everybody know you?" asked Sallis.

"Not quite everybody." Elvallon sounded defensive. "But I spend a lot of time here."

"The Papan's wife always thinks there's something wrong?" asked Sallis, with a grin.

"She never thinks that," replied Elvallon, guiding Polless around the side of the palace and towards the stables. "The Papan does, though. Always believes he's caught something or other. He usually gets the herbs."

Sallis stared as they turned the last corner. The stables were almost as impressive as the palace.

"Better than our stable," he said. "Polly will like it here."

"Rebuilt by a Papan who believed horses gave better counsel than people," said Elvallon.

"Was he one who got deposed?"

Elvallon shook his head. "No. He enjoyed a forty-year rule and lived for more than a century before old age finished him off."

"Maybe he had a point about the horses," remarked Sallis.

Elvallon grunted.

Boys came forward to take Polless and release him from the cart. While Elvallon gave his instructions, Sallis looked at the back of the palace. No columns here, but fresh whitewash covered the walls and the flower borders were well tended.

Two ornamental pools, too large to step across, dominated the courtyard. Peering into the water, he saw orange and yellow fish moving sedately around the water plants.

"Coming, Sallis?" asked Elvallon, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Sallis looked around. "Of course."

"Just wondered. Took three attempts to wake you."

Sallis exchanged a look with the stable-boys before he followed Elvallon inside. A servant met them at the door.

"His Excellency will see you now, Sir." Her glance at Sallis hinted that he was not included, but Elvallon's hand on his shoulder propelled him forward.

"My apprentice," explained Elvallon. "He stays with me."

"Of course, Sir." The servant's tone hinted that she could not care less either way, her expression carefully neutral.

Elvallon smiled and turned to Sallis. "Ready to meet the Papan?" he asked.

***

**Chapter 12 - The Papan**

For some strange reason, Sallis felt nervous as he followed Elvallon and the servant up a wide, sweeping staircase, made from stone he did not recognize.

"Marble," Elvallon whispered to him, noting the puzzled expression on the boy's face as he frowned at the stair. "Imported from the continent, for favors received."

"What favors?" Sallis whispered back.

"Best not to ask," replied Elvallon. "Corruption touches high and low."

"The Papan is corrupt?"

"If not him, then probably one of his predecessors. Or more than one, likely."

Sallis tried not to laugh, but his nerves had eased.

"Wait here," said the servant, voice expressionless. She tapped on the huge door before them and slipped inside. Moments later, she held the door open for them. "Elvallon, as summoned," she announced. "And his... apprentice."

Elvallon pushed Sallis ahead of him and the boy stared the moment he stepped inside.

Smaller than expected, given the size of the door, the chamber nonetheless dripped wealth from every side. The carpet pile must be several incas thick, dyed a deep red and made - Sallis trusted - from local wool. Tapestries depicting farmers and foresters, woodworkers and fishermen hung on every wall, the spaces between painted green, white and blue.

The white ceiling had a huge gold sunburst in the center. Two chairs were under it and, behind them, a flag hung from a cross, green and blue, separated by a single diagonal white stripe.

Sallis knew that was Re Annan's flag: green for the fertile land, blue for the abundant sea and white for the purity of the island's people. A man wearing rich blue robes sat in one of those chairs and a woman in red robes relaxed in the other. The Papan and his wife.

"Excellencies." Elvallon dropped briefly to one knee, Sallis hastily emulating him. As he looked up, he saw the woman smiling at him, not mocking, but a warm smile of welcome.

"Please rise." The Papan motioned.

Given what Elvallon had said, Sallis had expected a pale and plump man, but the Papan was thin yet solid, his dark hair and eyes complementing skin the color of dark honey. Either an outlander, or descended from one; many came to Re Annan and eventually mingled with the natives.

Such things were unimportant on Re Annan. If capable and wealthy enough, a man could go far. Sallis already knew wealth was the more important factor.

Elvallon and Sallis stood.

"Thank you for coming so quickly," continued the Papan.

"The moment I heard." Elvallon inclined his head, but the Papan's attention had moved on.

"I'm so pleased you brought your apprentice. Ah, Sallis ti Ath, isn't it?"

"Yes," replied Sallis, hoping he hid his surprise. The Papan had _heard_ of him? "Excellency."

"The boy who chased a dangerous criminal to ground and who was instrumental in his capture."

"Your guards caught him," replied Sallis, who barely recognized the action. He remembered again. "Excellency."

The Papan threw back his head and laughed. "Such modesty!" He turned to his wife. "You see, Fleran? Such modesty in the Gifted puts us all to shame."

Fleran smiled again. "The boy is merely being honest," she replied. "Really Ebasten, you should see honesty more often to know when it stands before you."

The Papan gestured again. "True, but this boy's Gift is what led him to the thief in the first place. Is that not so?"

"It is," said Sallis, then scowled. "Excellency."

Fleran laughed. "You only need call him that the once," she said. "Don't go giving him airs and graces."

Sallis stared.

"You called us here for a reason," interrupted Elvallon, who feared the conversation might concentrate on Sallis alone. "Sickness?"

"Yes." The Papan grew serious. "In the poor quarter. We do not want it spreading, so the Council has agreed to pay your expenses."

"What kind of sickness is it?" asked Elvallon.

Sallis looked at his tutor. There was no "Excellency this" and "Excellency that" out of him.

"Tightness of chest, inflamed eyes, over-tired muscles. Whoever catches it cannot work, cannot hold down food... It reminds me of something I had last year, that-"

"Ebasten," prompted Fleran. "Shall we keep to the subject in hand?"

"Nobody has died from this?" asked Elvallon.

"No," replied Fleran. "But neither have they recovered from it."

"I must go and take a look," said Elvallon.

"Of course," said the Papan. He stared hard at Sallis. "Is it wise to take your apprentice?"

"He'll be fine," said Elvallon, absently. "The experience will be good for him."

"Just that it would be a shame if he caught it," continued the Papan. Another thought struck him. "Ah, there's no chance of your bringing it back here, I hope?"

"I doubt it," Elvallon smiled. "These things tend not to affect practitioners. The Gift affords us some small protection from disease."

The Papan visibly brightened. "Oh good. Just that I don't want to catch it."

Elvallon smiled. "You're safe," he promised.

***

**Chapter 13 - The Poor Quarter**

It is one thing to look at a city from afar and quite another to visit. Despite his time with Elvallon, Sallis knew nothing of Leynx. Leaving Polless to enjoy a large meal of oats, one of the Papan's more discreet carriages was prepared to carry them to the Poor Quarter. More discreet meant a lacquered coach, rather than one covered in gilt. Sallis hoped riding in it would give him no lofty ideas.

"The driver will drop you at the edge of the Poor Quarter," the Papan had told them, "so he doesn't bring anything nasty back with him. Unlike you, he is not Gifted, so he has no protection."

Sallis wasn't sure quite what to expect so, when he stepped down from the carriage, he looked around with some trepidation.

The Poor Quarter looked no different from the rest of the city.

Clean and orderly, lime-wash covered every building and all looked well cared for. Streets here were as clean as streets everywhere else in Leynx. Only a few horse droppings - so few that they were obviously cleared away regularly - marred the otherwise pristine stonework and cobbles.

A guard stepped from a doorway, eyed Sallis in surprise and turned his attention to Elvallon.

"You're the healer?"

"Yes."

"The sick have been quarantined and a good job too. Nobody else has fallen ill in the last day."

"Excellent." Elvallon nodded approval. "You have done what I would recommend. Who's in charge of looking after the sick?"

"Someone from Hendrek. Romand?"

"Yes, we know him. The patients are in good hands. Where can I find him?"

The guard gestured. "The Big House. Yes, it's really called that. Six levels high. Fourth road on your right, along to the left. You can't miss it."

"I probably can," smiled Elvallon. "Thank you, we'll find it I'm sure."

"Look at the people." Surprise laced Sallis's voice. "With sickness about, I thought everybody would stay indoors."

"Oh, they won't stop for a little thing like a disease," Elvallon assured him. "They've isolated the sick, which is a good thing, but they'll carry on working, which might not be."

"How do you mean?"

"If it's a catching sickness, then people being out will only help spread it further."

"Sickness is sickness."

Elvallon shook his head. "There are different sorts. One type is when parts of the body wear out as we get older. Pain in joints, a greater tendency to strains and sprains, dimming eyesight, getting deaf. Natural and nothing anybody can do about it. Or not much anyway. Even Healing can only do so much there, such as repairing damaged muscles and tendons, but the underlying cause cannot be healed."

"That's just age," pointed out Sallis.

"No 'just' about it," retorted Elvallon. "Then there are injuries caused by something else. Like a broken bone after a fall, or bruising from hitting something. That we can cure as if nothing had happened. Even wounds that might bring someone close to death."

Sallis blinked. "That isn't really sickness," he protested. "Those are hurts."

Elvallon waved a dismissive hand. "Semantics," he said. "There are illnesses of the mind. And what you incorrectly claim is the only sort of sickness: those caused by tiny creatures. Catching sicknesses, like the one I cured you of."

Sallis remembered. "The one Father reckons I caught off the sheep."

"Maybe you did and maybe not," said Elvallon. "But this sickness is something like that. May have been something brought in from food that they ate, or a sick foreigner they work with. Whatever the something might be, I suspect it's run its course. All those going to catch it have, else we'd have an epidemic on our hands by now. Which we've not. No new cases in more than a day is good news."

The Big House, when Sallis finally saw it, lived up to its name. It stood a good two levels higher than those surrounding it.

Popular in Leynx, limewash had also been used liberally here, but the main doors, which stood open, were painted gloss black. Guards stood at the doors, presumably to stop people from wandering inside. Or the sick from escaping.

Having met the Papan, Sallis suspected the second reason.

"This is the poor quarter?" he murmured, staring at the doors.

Elvallon gave him a sharp look. "You don't know how lucky you are to live on this island," he told him. "The poor areas in most cities stink and the worst off live in abject poverty. Some are forced to scavenge or even beg, just to survive. 'Not-as-wealthy' describes the poor living in this city."

"They still can't afford your services," retorted Sallis.

"So why am I here?" Elvallon gave a wolfish grin. "Even I must eat to survive. And I have to feed one greedy little boy."

"And a sylph."

Elvallon waved a dismissive hand. "Lyssan eats very little. Compared with you, anyway."

Seeing they were about to enter the Big House, one of the guards stepped forward.

"Sickness in here, Sir," he cautioned. "Sure this is where you want to be?"

"The Papan sent us," replied Elvallon. "I am a healer."

The guard paused. "Elvallon, is it?" Seeing the healer nod, the guard stepped aside. "I hope it's safe for the boy, Sir."

"He is my apprentice."

Sallis smiled at the guard and nodded his own head. The guard gave him a neutral look.

"In you go then," said the guard, wearing a 'more-fool-you' expression.

The air inside felt delightfully cool compared with the heat on the streets and, some coughing apart, nothing to say that they weren't alone. After the glare of reflected sunlight outside, it took Sallis a few moments before he could see properly again, but the interior still seemed pretty gloomy. Moments later, he spotted Romand descending the stairs.

"Elvallon! So glad you're here. We sent for you days ago!"

The two men greeted each other. Romand turned to Sallis.

"Healing already? You said you hadn't begun when I saw you last."

"He's here to watch," grunted Elvallon, before Sallis could reply. "I brought him back the moment I heard about the sickness here. He's nowhere near ready to practice yet."

"Of course. Well, let me show you the patients."

There were thirty, mostly youngish men, but with a smattering of women. Some hacked and hacked, as if they tried to cough up something that refused to come. Others lay quietly.

"Any idea of the cause?" asked Elvallon, quietly.

"None," replied Romand. "But nobody has suggested sorcery. Yet."

"Let's hope they don't."

"Is it sorcery?" whispered Sallis.

"Don't be foolish," replied Elvallon. "Of course it isn't."

"It came on for no reason and has stopped spreading for no reason," said Romand.

"There's a reason all right," insisted Elvallon. "We've just got to find what it is. I may as well get started."

At his tutor's side, Sallis readied himself to watch and, hopefully, learn.

***

**Chapter 14 - Healing**

Grasping several linen cloths in one hand, a bucket of cool water dangling from the other, Sallis followed his teacher around the room. Elvallon moved methodically from patient to patient, gently laying hands on each forehead and pausing for a few moments.

All the patients lay in one large room, with other healers moving among them. They lay in beds, presumably to ease access for the healers, whom Sallis noted were both men and women. They carried bags of herbs, unlike Elvallon, who had left his in the carriage, unlikely to use it today.

Sallis concentrated and tried to see what happened when Elvallon healed. The first few times, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He'd last encountered touch-healing a lifetime ago, when suffering from that mysterious fever.

Elvallon murmured to himself as he worked. The first man looked at the healer with such gratitude that Sallis knew he was cured.

Romand followed them. "Any idea what's causing it?" he asked.

"Some sort of parasite," replied Elvallon. "Probably came in from abroad and already dying when it got here. Do these people have anything in common other than where they live?"

"They're all porters or hauliers," replied Romand.

"And all probably have contact with the quays," nodded Elvallon. "That makes my suspicion stronger. One of the ships brought it in. Perhaps the people on board were sick earlier, or have a natural immunity in their homeland."

Sallis watched Elvallon work on the second patient. And the third, fourth, fifth...

"I can't see anything," he muttered.

Elvallon skewered him with a sharp blue gaze. "Keep trying," he almost snapped. "You have this in you, I know it."

Sallis blinked in surprise, unused to sharp words from his teacher. Romand laid a hand on his shoulder.

"He's always like this when working," he said. "Don't worry about it."

Sallis felt a little better.

"If anything, he's in quite a good mood," continued Romand.

"Will you two be quiet?" demanded Elvallon.

Romand winked conspiratorially.

Other healers stopped to watch Elvallon work, perhaps to see how he wrought his miracles. Just in case any of them had a latent ability with the Gift.

Sallis eyed them all cautiously, remembering a lesson.

_"Lots of healers turn to sorcery," said Elvallon. "For the purest of reasons. They want to heal, they want to make people better and ease their suffering. So often, their herbs do not work and their remedies are ineffective. Then they learn of another way, of miracle cures that_ do _work. They learn the true cost of their knowledge and the price they must pay only when it is too late."_

Did any healer here harbor such desires? Surely all did to a greater or lesser degree: all healers must want success. Perhaps that woman, staring at Elvallon with a curious mix of resentment and wonder on her face. Or that man, with eyes large and round in his face.

"Pay attention!" snapped Elvallon. "Don't let your mind wander."

"Sorry," muttered Sallis and watched his teacher work.

By the tenth patient, Sallis felt certain he had seen something. The healer connected with the Gift present in everything, including the patient, and searched for things that should not be there. Once those were identified, they could be isolated and expelled from the patient's body.

He blinked when he realized just what Elvallon was doing. The... nasties, he supposed he could call them... were then manipulated until harmless and allowed to dissipate into the air.

Elvallon glanced at Sallis.

"You're beginning to see it." He smiled. "Good. That's pretty quick work."

"It's very complicated," said Sallis.

Elvallon nodded. "Which is why I will not allow you to practice it today. We will start on smaller, simpler creatures."

"Expendable ones," added Romand.

Sallis shivered. "In case I get it wrong?"

"Something like that," answered Elvallon. "Sparrows and squirrels don't form mobs if you get it wrong. People do."

Sallis grimaced.

The first patients Elvallon had dealt with now sat up in bed, some rising uncertainly to their feet. Much of the strength for healing had come from them, rather than the healer, so some weakness must be expected.

Sallis overheard whispered conversations, _worried_ conversations, about payment.

"The Papan is paying," Elvallon announced to the entire room. "He doesn't want to catch whatever it is you've had."

Laughter met the healer's words, the Papan's hypochondria well known throughout Leynx.

"Will he pay for my bunions to be dealt with too?" asked an anonymous voice.

"Or my bad veins?"

Elvallon held up a hand. "Whatever I find wrong with you will be dealt with," he replied. "And the Papan is paying. So relax and enjoy yourselves."

"How much rest do we need?" asked one of the already-healed patients.

"You can return to work in the morning," replied Elvallon. "I'm sure you've lost enough pay as it is. Now, will you let _me_ work?"

The patients subsided at this, just in case Elvallon changed his mind about payment. Sallis smiled and privately looked forward to the day when simple words from _him_ would bring people to heel.

Sallis watched each patient as Elvallon continued. Every time Elvallon worked the Gift, Sallis saw pretty much everything he did. He felt certain he could copy and said so, but his master shook his head.

"Remember that mob," he said. "Get it wrong and they will tear you to pieces, Gift or no Gift."

Sallis subsided. He might be too young to fear a mob - in truth, he did not really know what one was, other than a large group of people - but he understood a no when he heard one.

He would get no chance to prove himself today.

***

Darkness had fallen by the time Elvallon finished. He had refused food and an offer of a bed, saying the sick must come first. Sallis hid several yawns behind a hand and hoped his teacher had not noticed.

Some hope.

"And you thought the life of a Gifted healer was easy, young Sallis?" Elvallon's blue eyes twinkled, despite his hectoring tone. "Once started, you cannot stop until the task is complete."

"What if there were a thousand of them?" demanded Sallis.

"Then you will be very tired at the end," retorted Elvallon.

Romand barked a quick laugh.

Sallis narrowed his eyes. "Nobody could touch-heal a thousand people in one day," he said.

Elvallon nodded. "True. Any practitioner would be exhausted before he got even a quarter of the way through. The trick is to ensure diseases are prevented from spreading in the first place." A wolfish grin bloomed. "Or else charge prices the majority cannot afford."

"Survival by the purse," muttered Romand. "Cruel, but effective."

"All of life is cruel," said Elvallon. "You can thank the Malefic Sephiroth for that."

***

**Chapter 15 - In Leynx**

Welcomed back to the palace, Elvallon and Sallis accepted the rooms offered for the night. Sallis was especially taken with the large bed given to him. Even stretched out, he could not reach either side or either end.

He almost sank into the mattress and the sheets felt delightfully soft. He wondered what they were made from, or how the laundering made them so soft.

A servant provided washwater and offered to help wash him. Still young and just beginning to be very aware of his body, Sallis blushed and refused her politely.

She gave him a knowing smile, inclined her head and left the chamber.

Ready for sleep, Elvallon chose that moment to enter his room and ensure everything was fine.

"Now this is what I call living," announced Sallis, sweeping his arms to show off the room. "Why don't you live in one of these?"

Elvallon smiled. "It would cost me a fortune to run it," he said.

"You would need a lot more disease to cure."

A shadow flickered in Elvallon's blue eyes. "Something like that." He glanced around the room. "Sleep well and I'll see you in the morning. Tomorrow, we'll spend a couple of hours in the city before going home. We need to make sure Lyssan hasn't wrecked the house."

Sallis laughed. "Would she?"

Elvallon smiled back. "Probably not; but I was away to take you home, then away to bring you back, and then straight out here after a quick meal. Sylphs are gregarious, they dislike being left alone too long or too often, so expect some grumpiness when we return."

***

Leynx impressed Sallis. Hardly surprising given that he had never seen anything bigger than a village before Hendrek, and Leynx was twice the size of Hendrek. The streets were hardly paved with gold, but the city's wealth as a trading post obviously stood out compared to other places on the island.

Elvallon led him to the docks, where Sallis spotted a couple of yesterday's patients back at work. They gave the pair friendly nods before carrying on with their labors. The boy stared at the ships, some taking on cargo and others discharging it. The men - and sylphs he saw, with surprise - on these ships must have seen many exotic places. Including the mainland.

"What is the mainland like?" he asked Elvallon.

"Busy and, in places, at war," replied his teacher. "You are better off here."

Sallis shrugged.

"Ah. I see the travel bug is biting you. Well, no running away to sea until you've completed your training. We want no Gifted roaming free who don't know what they're about."

"There are sylphs on the ships," pointed out Sallis.

"Just the one usually," replied Elvallon.

"For luck?"

"Something like that. The ship's sylph is an important member of the crew."

"Why?"

Elvallon smiled. "When you feed that yearning to travel, you'll find out," he replied.

"Does that mean you don't know?" pressed Sallis.

"It means that finding things out for yourself is more satisfying than simply being told the answer."

They wandered back into the city, Elvallon pausing a few times. People certainly recognized him, waving a hello or stopping to exchange pleasantries. Sallis met rather more of Leynx's wealthy elite than he could remember in one go.

Worryingly, all seemed to have heard of him.

"It's over that criminal you ran to ground," explained Elvallon. "That brought you even to the Papan's notice."

"I didn't catch him. The guardsmen did."

"You as good as caught him," replied Elvallon. "If we had more crime on this island, you could make a very good living hunting those who commit it."

"Oh."

"Quite. Keep practicing the staff and sword; a good bounty-hunter must know his weapons."

"Speeding up time would help with that too," said Sallis.

"You should know by now that the Father always grants talents that are related, or which complement each other," said Elvallon. "But remember my warning about using the Gift alone when fighting. People rightly fear sorcerers."

Sallis quickly grew bored of looking at trading shops and market squares. He spotted a few more sylphs, busy about their chores.

"Is it true there are many more sylphs on the mainland?" he asked.

"It is," said Elvallon. "Here, you have a sylph-owning society, but they are quite rare. The mainland is a sylph society and there are more sylphs than humans."

"More?"

"Many more. Society is a pyramid. You need more people at the bottom of it to maintain and support those at the top. And on the mainland, those at the very bottom of the pyramid are sylphs. Here, it is mostly humans at the very bottom."

"Is that what Lyssan means when she calls Re Annan empty? Because there are so few sylphs?"

"Yes." Elvallon nodded. "Are you done looking around?"

"I think so."

"Now you know there's nothing that exciting in a city," he looked around and sniffed disparagingly, "we may as well go home."

***

**Chapter 16 - Learning to Heal**

Despite Elvallon's warnings about returning to a grumpy sylph, Lyssan seemed pleased to see them again. With no hint of ill-temper, she fussed over her owner and gave Sallis a warm smile. Whatever else had happened the night of that storm, some sort of bond had formed. Not so deep as that she shared with her owner, but Sallis felt certain they were friends.

Quite the contrast from the sylph's original reaction to him.

Elvallon rested inside, claiming fatigue from the efforts of healing so many people in one go. Perhaps the hammering heat of summer helped persuade him, but Sallis and Lyssan were left to look after Polless. The large carthorse, also unimpressed with the heat, appreciated Sallis's attention.

Sallis concentrated on currying Polless and giving him a good scratch all over. He ensured water filled the trough, laughing as the horse nudged him with his nose, a hint that he wanted some spraying over him. He doubtless knew it would help keep him cool.

At least the stable kept out the worst of the heat and bright sunshine.

Wary of the carthorse, Lyssan worked on the tack, polishing leather and brass, before turning her attention to the cart. She swept the cart bed and washed it down, once she got her turn with the water. While waiting, she watched and laughed at Sallis's antics with Polless.

Even so, she still finished first, and threw herself onto straw in the spare stall, where she watched Sallis work. Her silvery eyes glinted in the stable's gloomy interior.

"I think Polless likes you," she remarked to Sallis. "Good that somebody does."

"Don't you?"

A faint smile touched Lyssan's lips, but her earpoints twitched fully upright. "Maybe I do. Of course I do."

"Did you miss us while we were away?" asked Sallis, when he finally plumped down beside her.

Lyssan smiled. "I survived and there were no storms," she replied. Her silvery gray eyes looked carefully into his brown. "Did you learn anything in Leynx?"

"Yes." Sallis nodded carefully. "I thought you didn't like talking about this."

"So long as we do not talk too specifically," shrugged Lyssan. "It grows stronger; I can sense it in you now."

Sallis gave the sylph a sideways look.

"How can you _do_ that?" he asked. "It must have something to do with the Gift." He did not add that Elvallon had told him all sylphs could do this.

Lyssan blinked. "I do not know and do not want to."

"All right." Sallis held up his hands in surrender. "I'm merely curious."

The sylph shrugged. "We just can. But I have only just sensed... it... in you today. Before now, only when you used it."

"Does that mean anything?"

Lyssan shook her head. "Maybe not. Perhaps now it runs free properly in you. I-" She shot him an accusing look. "I do not want to know. How did you make me answer that?"

"Me? I did nothing." Sallis stared at her wide-eyed. "I would know."

Lyssan looked unconvinced. "Nice and cool in here," she said. "Humans like that on hot days."

"And you don't?"

The sylph smiled. "Sylphs like to bask." She patted one of her arms. "Get more blue in the sunlight."

Sallis laughed. "So that's why the housework suffers on sunny days."

Lyssan blushed, so perhaps his little joke hit nearer the truth than intended. " _Enya_ is busy inside," she said. "See you later."

Sallis watched her go, before he checked Polless had enough oats.

***

In the cool of the evening, Elvallon put Sallis through his paces.

He sympathized with the boy's frustration at not being allowed to try the healing he claimed to understand. Far more cautious than his pupil, Elvallon wanted to be sure Sallis had learned properly before letting him anywhere near a patient.

He watched his pupil attack imaginary enemies with his sword, moving faster and faster as he released the Gift. How much power did this skill need? Elvallon marveled. He kept going and going. The boy did not even look tired, though the older man knew he would sleep well tonight after this.

"All right, that's enough," he said.

Sallis ignored him and Elvallon was forced to put himself in the boy's line of sight and wave his arms at him. A dangerous thing to do while someone fought imaginary enemies with a real sword. How well did an eleven-year-old visualize imaginary enemies?

Sallis stopped.

"Don't exhaust yourself," warned Elvallon. "You'll have plenty of work to do tomorrow."

"Learning how to heal?" Sallis's eyes lit. No doubt the prospect of two incomes pleased him.

"Yes." Elvallon looked around in the gathering dusk. As bloodsuckers had no interest in blue blood, Elvallon had created the illusion only sylphs lived here. Small biting flies stayed well away, and searched for their meals elsewhere. "Looks to be a fine night, so I might be able to catch a couple of rabbits."

"You make them ill on purpose?" Sallis looked dismayed.

"Of course not. Even if I knew how, that would be an evil thing to inflict. But you must be able to read a living thing by touching it, and know what should be there and what should not." Elvallon grinned. "Though we might have them for supper tomorrow evening."

Sallis laughed. "Rabbit stew," he said. "Not had that for some time."

"Well," said Elvallon, "it is peasant food. But sustaining."

"So long as you eat other things as well," said Sallis.

"Oh?"

"Something my father said," continued Sallis. "If you eat nothing but rabbit, you eventually die."

"A new one on me," said Elvallon. "But then, I've never tried eating just rabbit. Either way, I would suggest an early night might be best."

***

Barely conscious, the rabbit lay limp in Sallis's hands. Elvallon must have done something to make it so docile; its eyes showed no fear. Most unusual in a creature so far down the food chain.

"You must reach in and connect with the Gift within the patient," Elvallon was saying. "Find anything that should not be there. Broken connections, external invasion, confused workings. When something interferes with a living creature, it also affects the way the Gift works. Look for disruptions and let me know if you find any. You saw me do it, now try with the rabbit."

Sallis looked down at it, felt its body warmth through its fur. Barely moving, but breathing. The boy closed his eyes and concentrated.

He became aware of the creature's heartbeat, fast but not unduly so. Every organ worked as it should and nothing felt wrong. The animal seemed calm and barely stressed; Sallis wondered if it would feel the same when it realized what Elvallon had planned for it...

The creature began to struggle and Sallis felt both lungs and heart quicken. A moment later and Elvallon took the rabbit from him.

"Is this a two-way thing?" asked Sallis.

"Yes."

"When I thought about what we're going to do with them later, it began to move."

"Who can blame it?" Elvallon laughed. "Healing is always two-way. Most strength needed for healing comes from the patient, which is why healing is sometimes too late. Some practitioners can give much of the needed strength and perhaps most of us give some to a greater or lesser degree. But it's a rare skill to give all the strength needed for healing."

"You're sure I can do this?"

"Tell me what you felt."

Sallis told him.

"Now I'm sure you have the talent," said Elvallon. "Nobody sees so well the first time."

"I've already seen you do it," protested Sallis.

"Few can even see that so easily, so soon."

Sallis shrugged.

"Often the way with those for whom the first, original touching of the Gift is so hard to accomplish," smiled Elvallon. "Once they succeed, everything else comes almost naturally. And I'm still impressed your first touching was time manipulation."

Sallis blushed.

"You can do this," promised Elvallon. "Criminal hunting and healing; you'll be some practitioner once your training is complete."

Sallis only blushed harder.

***

**Chapter 17 - Disaster**

The day started normally enough.

Sallis took his time in the washroom, splashing about happily. He caused the waiting Lyssan so much distress that the usually placid sylph eventually banged on the door and demanded her turn.

A normal breakfast of heated oats with water and sweetened with honey, that all three ate together, followed by the daily chores Lyssan no longer resented sharing with Sallis.

Once done with chores, Elvallon again chose one of the rabbits. Lyssan's pulse and bean soup the night before had granted the two rabbits a reprieve, and both had survived to see another day.

Elvallon might have chosen the same one, but Sallis doubted that. The moment he put his hands on the silky fur, he knew this was definitely a different animal.

"This one's not right," he said, immediately.

Elvallon gave him a wide smile. "You see! You have a feel for this."

"You already knew," said Sallis. "You must have."

"I did."

"You said you wouldn't make them ill on purpose!"

"Nor did I. Illness is not something I can create from nothing. Delve more deeply, find out where and what the problem is."

Sallis obeyed. He felt through the creature and quickly found a disruption in the Gift. That was the only way to describe it. Somewhere in the left foreleg...

"This bone's been broken and never healed properly," said Sallis.

"Good lad!" Elvallon patted him on the shoulder. "I expect the creature got trapped sometime and found it difficult to escape. Healers usually never bother with old injuries such as this. But if we cure a patient for one thing, we always cure older problems as well. We cannot pick and choose which illnesses or injuries to cure. Either we heal, or we do not."

"I can repair this," insisted Sallis.

"I'm sure you can. But be careful how you deal with it. Too much and you'll do more harm than good. Remember, this is only a small creature, and unable to handle large amounts of the Gift."

Sallis concentrated. A thin trickle of the Gift, barely manipulated at all, directed at the flow sustaining the rabbit. Gentle yet probing, finding the cause of the problem, a bone that had failed to mend as it should. A gentle manipulation, like...

The rabbit convulsed and kicked, eyes growing wider, then hung limp, all life draining from its eyes.

Sallis cried out in shock.

Even Elvallon looked surprised.

"What did I do wrong?" asked Sallis. "I did it exactly as you said!"

"We'll have to go through it together," said Elvallon. "Let's look at the first rabbit again and see what we can find there."

Sallis nodded, but he stared at the dead animal in consternation. He _had_ worked the Gift properly!

Moments later, the original healthy rabbit lay docile in Sallis's hands. He and Elvallon touched it together, working as one. Sallis blinked. Not only was he aware of the rabbit, exactly as before, but also of his teacher.

"Am I doing anything wrong?" asked Sallis.

"Not so far as I can tell," admitted Elvallon. "There's nothing to heal in this one. I'll go and find another."

***

The next rabbit had some sort of sickness that made it easy for Elvallon to catch without resorting to the Gift. It hung limply in his hands, already resigned to its fate, and did not need to be made docile.

"Whatever happens," said Elvallon, "we won't be eating this one."

Again, they both laid hands on the sick animal. Lyssan, who had come out to enjoy the sunshine, gave them one glance and quickly disappeared inside. As before, Sallis was also aware of Elvallon. Nothing wrong with the man, but the rabbit...

"A sickness I can feel in the muscles and blood," said Sallis.

Elvallon nodded. "Reach inside carefully."

Sallis took great care, only increasing his use of the Gift at his teacher's insistence.

"I can start now," said Sallis. "Am I doing anything wrong?"

"All feels good to me," said Elvallon, still touching the rabbit. "Go ahead."

Sallis reached inside and began to weave his healing.

The rabbit convulsed, twitched and died. Elvallon, still in contact, threw himself backwards and away. He regained his feet and stared at his pupil, rubbing first at a hand, then at his chest.

Sallis stared back and tears welled. He recognized the look in his teacher's eyes: a mix of loathing and fear. The shutters were back in place a split-second later, but Elvallon's expression was too carefully neutral.

"You're not a healer," he said, "but a killer with the Father's Gift in your veins. I cannot teach you."

Tears spilled from Sallis's eyes and he fled inside. He pushed the door to his room shut and flung himself on his bed. He lay there for minutes, struggling to regain his composure.

"I cannot teach you."

"You're not a healer, but a killer with the Father's Gift."

"I cannot teach you."

The words turned over and over in his mind.

"Killer... killer... killer..."

***

Lyssan listened to Sallis's sobbing for a few moments before she gave his bedroom door a gentle tap and walked in.

"Elvallon said my privacy would be respected," Sallis mumbled into his pillow.

Undeterred, the sylph sat on the edge of his bed. "I will leave if you wish," she said. "But you were here for me when I needed it. Will you refuse me the chance to repay the favor?"

Sallis relented. "He said he can't teach me any more."

Lyssan rubbed a gentle hand on the boy's arm and shoulder. "Why is that?"

"Because I can't heal, only kill. I don't want to be a killer!"

"You do not have to be," murmured Lyssan. "You can choose."

"Why would the Father gift me something that hurts others?"

"I do not know." Lyssan nearly added that she was only a sylph, then decided Sallis needed reassurance rather than a denial. "But there must be a reason."

Sallis gripped Lyssan's arm, firmly rather than to bruise. "Ask him to carry on teaching me," he begged. "Ask him!"

"All right." The sylph's earpoints wilted and she stilled her facial expression.

"Please?"

"I am going."

Elvallon, still sat outside and holding the dead rabbit in his hands, barely noticed her when she joined him.

Lyssan gave the dead animal one grimace. "Sallis is upset," she said. "He asked me to ask you to carry on teach-"

"No." Elvallon looked at her. "Go and help him pack; he's going home tomorrow."

"But _enya_..."

A warning note crept into his voice. "Lyssan."

The sylph pouted. " _Se bata_ ," she mumbled.

Elvallon looked across the river and she noticed his shiver, despite the heat of the day.

"What he did to the rabbit, he almost did to me," said Elvallon, seeing his sylph had still not left him. "Sallis is too dangerous to be trained. Siranva help us, Lyssan, but who or what have we unleashed on the world?"

***

**Chapter 18 - New Plans**

Sallis sat on the hilltop, staring west.

Re Taura, largest of the offshore islands, lay somewhere out there, and beyond that the continent. A land of opportunity and danger that beckoned to him. He doubted if he could ever settle to farming sheep again. He had glimpsed a new world, only to have it snatched away.

Hayland's hand closed on his son's shoulder.

"Elvallon has gone," he said.

Sallis gave the slightest of shrugs. Though he would miss Lyssan.

"He left a sword for you to practice with, and the staff," continued Hayland.

Sallis looked up at his father's face. "Why would I practice that?"

Hayland shrugged. "He also left instructions that you must practice touching the Gift."

Another shrug. "He said he would no longer teach me."

"About healing," corrected his father. "As for the rest of it, he seems to think you taught yourself. He also said he'd check up on you now and then."

Sallis drew in a shuddering breath. "He rejected me."

Hayland patted his son's shoulder. "The Father granted you the Gift for a reason. He gave you skills for a reason."

"I don't want to be a killer!"

"Few sane people do. But you have other skills. And slowing down time will come in useful once you're the only child of ours left here. We'll get more work out of you then."

Sallis shook his head and almost managed a smile.

"That's more like it." Hayland smiled down at the boy. He offered a torn scrap of cloth.

Sallis looked at it with distaste. "What's that for? I'm not crying."

"Never said you were." Hayland's smile widened. "Ollin has been losing sheep and he found this yesterday. Thinks it might belong to the thief."

Sallis took the cloth. Immediately, images began to form and he turned his head, questing.

"You can feel something?"

Smiling, Sallis nodded. "Oh yes," he replied.

Hayland gave his son a gentle thump on the shoulder. "Come on then, let's go get him."

Laughing now, Sallis ran down the small hill. He had a purpose again.

***

Though the cursed Father had made my Gift different, He had given me that Gift and the talents I displayed for a reason. I decided to continue learning and increase my efforts. I could still become the best.

My father was right: the chance to prove myself would come.

But right now, I had a thief to catch.

***

***

The End of **Gifted Apprentice**.

**Nicholas A. Rose** is the author of the Ilvenworld novels. He enjoys everything to do with the sea, the outdoors and the mountains, which he finds inspirational. Nicholas also enjoys the rather more sedentary pastimes of chess, reading, real ale and, of course, writing.

Also by Nicholas A. Rose on Smashwords.com:

More Sallis ti Ath Novellas:

Gifted Hunter

Gifted Avenger

Markan Empire Trilogy (full-length novels):

Markan Throne

Markan Empire

Markan Sword

