Alvaro stirred around mid-morning but stayed resting until lunch time. When he made an appearance in the dining hall he moved stiffly and ate little.
They stayed together as a group through most of the day, and never went anywhere as anything less than a pair. Despite being confined to a ship, they never saw Braph. This was disconcerting, because Llew was certain he was watching them all the time; he was watching her all the time.
The sun shone from an almost cloudless sky and what wind there was remained high and gentle enough not to bother the passengers. Word from the sailors was that they were making good progress and might even arrive in Rakun half a day early. Llew was ambivalent about the news. On the one hand she was looking forward to arriving in Rakun, since Anya would be safe, and the city sounded exciting. On the other, she was apprehensive about leaving the ship, finding comfort in the thought that Braph had to conserve his power. Chances were good he wouldn't attack again. But the thought wasn't enough to let her relax when bedtime came round again. She lay awake, tensing at the slightest sound, and Anya clearing her throat, or Emylia scratching her nose, nearly had Llew jumping for the ceiling.
Anya slipped from her bunk.
“You alright?” Llew asked into the darkness.
“Yes,” Anya whispered, her voice light, barely touched by sleep. “Just restless.”
Llew linked her fingers behind her head, heaved a sigh and waited for sleep to come.
Metal slid over wood. Llew's knife, the one Jonas had given her before Cassidy was injured, was lying on a wooden set of drawers between the two bunks in the little room. Llew tensed. What was Anya doing?
Feathered bedding crackled and Emylia gasped and Llew was out of her own bed and on the floor in an instant. Wet material tore, and there was another cushioned thump and a gasp, weaker than the first.
It was too dark to see, and Llew flailed her arms before her until she found the frilly form of Anya. The other girl's arms rose and Llew visualized her brandishing the knife over Emylia. Suddenly the earlier sounds made sense. She grabbed Anya and pulled her away, staggering back to the door. Anya continued mindlessly swinging the knife, as if Emylia still lay before her.
There were no lamps lining the corridor, all having been doused for the night as a precaution: but now lamps were being ignited one after the other as sailors made their way toward them. Jonas grabbed one of the newly lit lamps before rushing to Llew and her captive. He snatched the knife from Anya, and she fell limp in Llew's grasp.
“Emylia!” Llew said, and Jonas lifted the lamp into the room.
Blood pooled on the woman's bedding.
“What's happened?” demanded Aris as he strode from the men's room with Cassidy behind him. Cassidy saw Llew lowering the unconscious Anya and hurried toward them.
“Aris, stop.” Jonas stepped back into the corridor. “It's Emylia.”
“Is she—”
“She's alive,” Jonas said, before dropping his voice. “But it's not good.”
Llew's first instinct was to dash into the room and heal Emylia, but Jonas's warning shake of the head stopped her cold. She felt helpless, more so than if she had been powerless.
“Llew—”
“Aris.” Jonas stepped between Aris and Llew. “You said yourself, Braph's tryin' to weaken us.”
Aris puffed up and started to raise one arm, like he was going to brush Jonas aside and defy his own warning. Then his shoulders slumped, and he nodded. His eyes glistened, and again Llew felt the urge to go into the room and heal Emylia.
Jonas stepped aside to allow Aris into the room, then called down the corridor, “We need a doctor!”
“Is she going to be okay?” Llew asked.
Jonas didn't reply, only driving Llew's desire to heal the woman to boiling point. But when she made a move to dodge around him, he stepped in her way. She rocked back and he mirrored her.
“She's still sleeping.” They both turned to where Cassidy cradled Anya. She looked peaceful, despite the blood splattered across her night gown.
A man carrying a bulky leather bag came running along the corridor.
“Somebody called for a doctor?”
Jonas directed him into the cabin.
“How bad is it?” Llew tried again.
“She took two to the gut.” Jonas folded his arms and leaned against the door frame, resting one foot across the other. “It'll be slow, but they'll do.”
“They'll do?” Llew was incredulous. “They'll do?” Llew moved to push past, and Jonas put an arm out to block her. He didn't say anything. Llew stepped back, impotent and frustrated.
Jonas watched her fidgeting, with his cool assessment frustrating her even more. But she supposed someone had to keep their head, and it wasn't going to be her.
“So, now he's got the power to control people?” Llew blurted. What couldn't Braph do? Llew caught herself on the opposite wall and kicked it. The shock and a dull pain shot through her foot and up her leg. She kicked the wall again. This time it really hurt, but she did it again anyway. The door to the cabin behind the wall opened and an annoyed-looking passenger poked her head out.
Llew sneered at her.
“Llew.”
She hooked her arm out of Jonas's grasp and spun to face him. “No! Emylia's in there, maybe dying, you won't let me help her, there's a madman with who knows what kind of magic trying to hurt or kill us, and you think I'm just going to stand here and accept it?”
“No.”
Llew hated him for being so calm and was about to tell him so.
“Emylia's dying?” Jonas and Llew turned at the sound of Anya's sleepy voice. She was already standing.
“I don't— I didn't—” Llew gaped at Jonas.
Anya headed into the room, reappearing at the door less than a minute later, her eyes drowning, her skin pale, and her hands splayed out before her, bloody and trembling.
“I did it. I hurt Emylia.”
“Shh.” Cassidy moved to pull Anya into an embrace, but she pushed past him and threw herself at Llew. Anya gripped Llew's shoulders, pressing her head into Llew's chest. She sniffed and whimpered. And then she brought her head up.
“You have to help her, Llew. You have to heal her. Please.” Her voice was heavy with sorrow, fear, and pleading. Llew nodded.
“No,” said Jonas, flatly.
“But—”
“That's what he wants. You heal her and then what? No one can touch you. That what you want? To get isolated, so he can swoop in and take you?”
It wasn't what Llew wanted, but she didn't want Emylia to die either. She knew the guilt of killing someone, and she didn't want Anya going through that.
“Where can he take me? We're on a boat!”
“I don't know!” Jonas was losing his cool. “But if he can control our minds, he's more powerful than we thought. I don't know his limits.”
Anya pulled back, clapping her hand over her mouth. “Oh, Llew. I didn't mean to put this on you. Please don't fight!” She caught herself against the wall and slid to the floor, trembling, sobbing; weakened by shock at what she'd done.
“It wasn't your fault.” Llew knelt and reached a hand out to the girl. “Braph did something to you. He used your hand, but it wasn't you.”
“Llew?” Aris's tired voice floated from the room.
She stood, frozen. If she entered the room, the urge to heal Emylia would be immensely more powerful. But if she stayed outside, if she turned away and Emylia died... These people had helped her leave Cheer. They had given her safe passage even after discovering what she was. All she'd done in return was put them in harm's way.
“Llew.” Aris waved her into the room. His voice was husky.
She gave Jonas a quick glance but didn't wait for a response and moved forward.
“Emy's dying,” Aris said quietly. Emylia lay in her bed, bandages wrapped about her middle, the doctor leaning across her. Her breathing was ragged. “I wouldn't ask if it was anyone else... Doc says she's got a fighting chance if we close the wound before infection sets in.”
Jonas shifted behind her, and Aris raised a placating hand.
“He's from Rakun and won't be tellin' no one from Turhmos.”
Jonas didn't look convinced, but there was little they could do now the doctor knew what she was, so he eased his stance a little, folding his arms defensively.
“It would leave Llew an outcast. She can't complete the journey with the need to heal. She might as well have yellow-fever.”
“What if she healed off me?” Anya entered the room. Her voice was quiet and nervous, but she stood tall. “I did it. It should be me, shouldn't it?”
“Braph did it,” said Llew.
“I can't let you,” said Aris.
“What if we all gave a bit?” Llew smiled to see Alvaro standing at the doorway. He looked a lot better for all his rest and returned her smile with a brief one of his own.
Jonas's eyes narrowed, but Aris's widened with hope.
“I don't know how to control it,” said Llew. That was what she hated most. It happened to her. It happened through her. It wasn't hers to control.
“Jonas could do it,” said Aris. “He's strong enough to break the hold.”
“What about the kitchens? Don't they have animals for meat?” asked Jonas, still seeking some alternative.
“Not live ones on a trip this short,” said Aris. “Look, the doc said the injury itself isn't that big. Spread between the rest of us, we'd hardly notice.”
It struck Llew how unusual the situation was for the two Quavens. Normally, Jonas did everything Aris, his captain, instructed him to do but, in this case, it was Jonas who had assumed the commanding role.
“What about the horses?” asked Jonas.
“Do you want to go carrying Llew that far?” asked Aris. “You can't bring a horse up here.”
“Well...”
“Not off Amico,” said Llew. “I want him to still like me when we disembark.”
“Any horse she touches could be ruined by the experience,” said Aris. “And you have to get her down to the hold without touching her or letting her touch anyone else on the way. Look, the sooner we act, the less damage there'll be to deal with. If we leave her...” Aris fell silent.
Reluctantly Jonas nodded, and Llew moved immediately to Emylia's bedside. Cassidy, Anya and Alvaro gathered in a tight group just inside the door and Cassidy closed it behind them. This wasn't something they needed an entire boatload of people knowing about.
Llew knelt, took a breath, and prepared herself. She had healed Cassidy by accident. This time she was doing it on purpose, and she knew what was coming: it would hurt. She took up Emylia's hand in both of her own. She expected it to hurt, but it seemed the mind had a way of dulling memories. She'd forgotten how a severe, localized wound felt when it poured through her being, forgotten the nausea, the laboring heart, the heat and the cold.
She hadn't forgotten her inability to break the hold once established, though. It was terrifying to have so much power flood through her, and yet have no control over it. Emylia's wounds weren't quite as drastic as Cassidy's, and Llew's grip suddenly loosened, and she fell back. Jonas swooped in and scooped her into a sitting position, propping her against the set of drawers. Then each of their companions knelt before her and held her hand for a few seconds, until Jonas pulled them apart. Llew was sapping ghi from him each time he did so and feeling progressively better.
After a while Llew looked up to see a blood-soaked but otherwise healthy Emylia sitting on the edge of her bed with Anya's arms wrapped around her as if she might never let go. It was with a relieved sigh that Llew looked about the room to see that each of her companions was well, if rubbing sore fingers and wrists.
“You did good.” Jonas patted her shoulder before he stood and moved off to confer with Aris. After a brief discussion, he dismissed the doctor with a warning not to speak a word to anyone of what had occurred in the room. Emylia was to behave as though the wound wasn't as bad as had been believed and that she was being successfully treated by the doctor, who would call by at least once a day for the remainder of the trip.
As for the safety of the group Aris, much to the disgust of the ship's captain, insisted they be moved into a larger room, and that the rules governing separation of the sexes on board be waived as far as his party was concerned. Jonas's identity, now revealed, seemed enough to let them have their way.
