ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY-THREE: The Weight

183

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“So that’s Vethedya.”

Alden was looking across the fields toward the city skyline. It was a little later in the afternoon here than it had been at Rapport I, and the sky was overcast. Other than his voice and the strikes of their boots on the packed ground, the only sound was the call of some forest dweller coming from their left. The noise was a plaintive one. His brain, trying to form connections in the new environment, suggested the unknown creature might be angry with the giant construction project going on in its wilderness.

“And what’s the yelling animal?”

It seemed better to chat as if Stuart wasn’t hurt and angry, and as if Alden himself wasn’t growing more anxious with every step.

[You’re sure this will be fine?] he texted to no one.

[It’s as I told you. Yenu-pezth exploring your thoughts in ways you haven’t agreed to isn’t impossible, but it’s very unlikely.]

I know. Breach of Contract, offending the art’hs, ethics, reputation…there are so many reasons for a good healer not to do it and so few reasons to think I’m hiding anything worth the trouble in my head. But still, I—

“Those are Orangesky Mourns,” said Stuart, interrupting the thought with the answer to his question. “Many of them live in this area. They’re small and furry.”

He went on to describe an animal that sounded like a squirrel to Alden.

“You might see some while you walk with Healer Yenu. They like the grove behind the House of Healing, and she won’t let anyone scare them away. And, yes, that’s Vethedya.”

“That teleportation chamber we were in was amazing. With the clouds?”

“Oh. You liked…” He looked from Alden to the city. “I’m sorry. I was <<ranting>> and didn’t let you enjoy it!”

“It’s fine. We were only there for a blink anyway.”

“I will be silent the next time we travel,” Stuart promised.

“You don’t have to. What’s the big thing taking up so much space in the Orangesky Mourn’s forest?”

“The Sdyelis Branch,” Stuart answered. “An oasis ship. It’s being built completely of materials native to the Mother. The designing of a ship that uses as little <<traveler’s knowledge>> as possible has been the <<devotion>> of the life of a wizard from Rapport III. She and her children are in charge of the project.”

The shape of the vessel wasn’t branchlike, unless it extended back into the trees in a way that couldn’t be seen from the path, which did seem possible to Alden. From here, it appeared to be more ovoid with enough irregularities and ongoing construction to suggest that might not be its final form.

“Traveler’s knowledge?” he asked.

“So much is gained, isn’t it?” Stuart said. “By encountering a new place or a new species. We’ve become more than we would have been if we didn’t travel, but we also take terrible risks. And maybe we fail to <<innovate>> and find truths that were hidden at the end of a more solitary journey. The Sdyelis Branch is supposed to be what a spacefaring ship might have been if our people had never known any world but the one we were born to.”

Alden stopped gazing at the ship and frowned at the track ahead of them. The Artonans were the species that traveled and connected everyone else. How far back in their history would they even have to go to try to imagine a spaceship that had taken nothing, not even a concept, from anywhere but their native planet?

“I’m not disrespecting the educational part of the project, but isn’t it very…closing of options…to build something important that way? Unless it’s not important, and it’s mostly an experiment?”

“I think you’re searching for the word limiting,” said Stuart. “Yes. It’s an <<eccentric>> project. It’s for the campaign to restore the place I told you about—the one that was sealed before Earth was discovered. In honesty, building a ship that way has been so difficult that I’ve heard it might not have been possible if some people didn’t want to <<prance>> in front of the ilket. Which isn’t a <<noble>> or intelligent reason.”

“What’s ilket?” The word didn’t sound completely unfamiliar, but Alden wasn’t sure where he’d heard it.

“A technologically advanced species who wizards interacted with in the past. It’s likely their society has collapsed, and their people are scattered now if they’ve survived at all, so finding motivation in spiting them is even more shameful than it would otherwise be.”

Alden immediately thought of Gorgon, but technologically advanced didn’t fit with what he’d said about his own people being “primitive in almost every way” from a human point of view.

“They’re close to extinction because of the chaos where they live?”

“Probably,” said Stuart. “They seemed to be incapable of making honest agreements with anyone who wasn’t ilket. Artonans couldn’t form lasting contracts with them, and they either hated magic or hated not understanding it. So our species were <<mutually offended>>, and even negotiations for a possible evacuation ended badly. They were left there.”

He looked at Alden. “But The Sdyelis Branch isn’t just an experiment or a <<vanity>>. If it achieves all the goals that have been set, it will become a resource of unmatchable value. That ship is meant to be the closest we can come to sending a piece of our planet wherever we need to. It should make some magics much less difficult and provide a haven in places where rest can’t normally be found.”

“What kind of—?”

“We can talk about spaceships and history and the work of those who strive against chaos’s <<encroachment>> anytime,” Stuart said. “But it is more normal for people walking here to think of their hopes for healing.”

Alden sighed and tightened his grip on the green rock that looked like sea glass. “Most people walking this way probably see things like giant magic ships every day…but I guess you’re making sense.”

They walked for a little while without saying anything. His thoughts ricocheted from spaceships to school counselors to the auriad hidden on his upper arm. He wondered if he was heading toward the clarity he hoped for, and the relief, or if he was giving himself over to one more complication and risk.

“It’s not easy to trust someone else with this kind of thing, is it? Is that just me?”

“I think that’s normal. But I’ve had to accept so much help with my own mind that I’m very used to it. And I decided to talk to Healer Yenu for you, instead of another, because she’s my favorite.”

That’s nice to know. “What makes her your favorite?”

“No,” Stuart said. “You’ll think my reason is strange.”

Alden looked at him curiously. “All right. Your recommendation is good enough anyway.”

Only a few steps later, Stuart said, “She stole me from another healer. One who father had taken me to against her advice.”

“What do you mean she stole you?”

“She walked into the other healer’s House while I was preparing for a ritual treatment and told me to come with her. I assumed I was supposed to because…why would someone steal me? Who would do a thing like that?”

Alden gaped at him. We’re talking about a kidnapping?

“Apparently, Yenu-pezth would.” Stuart had nothing but affection in his voice. “She took me to fly <<twirly kites>> nearby. Father found us quickly, but from what I’ve been told he was very upset.”

“He should have been, shouldn’t he?”

“Yes. But none of my other healers would have risked life and profession to make a point to him, so he did listen to her argument again. It wasn’t one he wanted to hear. She was telling him it was time to pause and let me grow without any treatment for a while.”

“Was she right?”

Stuart nodded. “Those helping you with alterations of the mind are supposed to be careful not to <<push>> when there’s resistance, fluctuation, or lack of desire from the self. Caution was especially important in my situation, and we knew I’d be seeing mind healers for years to come. But it was hard for my father to agree to the pause when I was still so far from comfort.”

“Your favorite healer is the one intense enough to steal the Primary’s son and then give the Primary a lecture when he comes to get his son back.” Alden couldn’t help sounding amused. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“She’s very talented and serious about her work,” Stuart rushed to assure him. “That was why what she did had such an impact.”

As they approached the building, Alden studied it. It wasn’t dramatically different from what he might have expected. “A boat sailing through some treetops” would be a good description of the architecture, but he thought the structure’s curved shape might be intended to call to mind hammocks more than watercraft. Porti-loth would have been pleased to see that this House of Healing had its own grove of trees. Off to one side and behind the first building, there was a second, larger one that was more tucked away in the woods.

When the two of them were still a significant distance from the front door, the path started to be spotted with the same kind of stones they carried. Up ahead, the ground was actually so covered it was paved with them—a milky green lane taking over from the dirt.

“We stop and say the honor to the healer you plan to see,” said Stuart, halting. “It’s written on the floor or ceiling at some Houses, but this is how they do it here.”

“I think I know this, then,” said Alden. “The days?”

“That’s right.”

Alden bent and placed his stone on the ground. It sank in like the packed dirt was soft around it. “These mark the days of Yenu-pezth,” he said.

“These mark the days of Yenu-pezth,” Stuart said beside him, “given that others might thrive.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“May healing be found here.”

“May healing be found here.”

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