Lisette returned her smile. "Thank you, m'lady."
They cared for two more patients before Carina signaled for a few minutes' rest. "You know, before I came here, I couldn't have imagined something like that last patient, the old woman with the sore back. That young man with her—the vayasb moru. That was her husband, wasn't it?"
Lisette nodded. "He was brought across forty years ago."
"They've stayed together all that time," Carina said admiringly. "Openly. I used to think Isencroft was a welcoming place for the vayash moru because no one's gone hunting for them in generations. But I've never seen the living, the dead, and the undead go on together like this. I realize now how low my expectations were."
"In the farmlands of the other kingdoms, many families provide sanctuary for loved ones who've been brought across. It works so long as their neighbors don't notice, or don't care. That doesn't usually last."
"Then why don't all the vayash moru come to Dark Haven, if it's safe for them here to exist openly?"
"They stay for all the reasons mortals stay. Because those places have always been their home. Because their family is there, and they don't wish to leave them, even if they can only watch over them from a distance. Because it's familiar. After a lifetime or two, 'home' changes so much that it's no longer what you remember. That makes the leaving easier."
"I think I understand, a little," Carina said, washing blood from her hands. "My brother and I were forced to leave our home, our family, when we were young. We were twins, but I had magic. Being twins was a scandal; having magic was unforgivable."
"Not too different," Lisette said. "To be driven out for what you are, what you had no choice about being. And in places like Nargi, mages and vayash moru often suffer a common fate."
"The further I stay from Nargi, the happier I'll be." Carina dried her hands. "How many more patients must be seen tonight? I nearly fell asleep during that last healing!"
"I have half a dozen for you m'lady," Lisette said. "A woman in labor—she thinks the baby did not turn—and a girl who struck her head and hasn't awakened. There's a man with an arrow through his hand, a boy with a bleeding eye, and a vyrkin with its foot in a trap. And a young woman delirious with fever."
Carina set aside her empty cup. "Let's get started. Let me check the woman in labor. If I can get babe turned, perhaps you can sit with her while I treat the others."
"As you wish, m'lady." Lisette smiled. "Babies haven't changed since I was mortal. That's something I understand."
It took more than a candlemark to tend to the last of the patients. Lisette and Eiria gently herded the remaining villagers out of the room, guiding them to the place Neirin had cleared for them in the granary. Carina washed her hands in a basin. She felt a sudden chill behind her, and straightened. Months of working closely with Tris made her highly aware when spirits were near, and she was quite sure that a ghost was right behind her.
Carina turned slowly. The room was empty, except for a green haze that floated like wood smoke about waist-high near the fireplace. "Don't be afraid," Carina said, taking a step toward the haze. "Can you show yourself?"
The haze grew brighter and changed to gray as it swirled and coalesced. The figure of a sad-eyed young girl stood before her. Carina guessed her to be a few years younger than herself. "Are you looking for me?"
The apparition nodded.
"Did you come for healing?" Carina guessed. As the girl's form became more solid, she could see a fevered look in the ghost's eyes. Again, the ghost nodded.
"Show me." Carina had no idea how she was going to help. The girl's gown was a fashion that was long out of favor. What if she doesn't know she's dead? Carina wondered. What if she's still waiting for a healer to come? I wish Tris were here!
Now the girl's ghost was fully formed, as if someone stood before Carina covered in gray gauze. The girl's neck looked badly swollen on either side of her jaw, and from the way she stood and held her arms, Carina guessed other places were painfully swollen also. Darker patches appeared on the girl's arms and face, and Carina guessed that in life, they had been lesions. The longing in the ghost's eyes brought Carina to tears.
"I have no idea whether this will work," she said, more to herself than to the ghost. "Do you know that you're dead?" she asked gently.
The ghost slowly nodded. "Something is keeping you here. I'm not a Summoner. But I'll do what I can." Carina drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. She stretched out her hands until she felt the chill of the mist fold around them. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Keeping the image of the ghostly girl in her mind, Carina drew on her healing power. And in the back of her mind, she felt a tingle of magic, old and deep. Someone is watching, she thought. She shook her head, unsure which was more irrational—the idea that she could heal a ghost or the thought that she was being watched.
Carina felt healing magic warm her hands. Keeping the mental image of the girl firmly in mind, Carina let her hands move from the ghost's forehead down to her swollen neck, imagining how her power would heal a living person. Slowly, she let her palms glide over the ghost girl's body. She imagined the painful swelling decreasing, the fever abating, the lesions closing over with new skin. Gently working her way down the girl's form, Carina mentally pictured joints aching with fever gaining relief beneath her touch. Nothing but air met her touch. Without Tris's ability to move on the Plains of Spirit, Carina relied on her intuition, hoping that if the girl's spirit could manifest within the space between her hands, enough of the girl's essence remained to absorb the healing energy Carina's magic projected.
When she finished her mental "treatment," Carina opened her eyes.
The ghost girl stood before her, and Carina saw the shadow of tears streak down the specter's cheeks. "I don't know whether I've done anything at all," Carina said, embarrassed.
The ghost knelt before her and reached for and through Carina's hand in gratitude. Through her tears, the girl smiled, standing. She gave a deep curtsey, and then her image began to fade. Carina found herself staring at an empty room as the last hint of the ghost's' presence disappeared.
"Lady be! Never have I seen someone heal the dead!"
Carina turned, blushing as she saw Lisette standing by the door. "I don't really know that I did anything at all," Carina murmured. "She was in so much pain. I figured that since she was already dead, it couldn't hurt to try."
Lisette looked overcome with emotion. She closed her eyes tightly, a mortal gesture against tears that the undead could not shed. "M'lady, that girl has wandered these corridors for two hundred years, seeking a healer who never came. She was the daughter of the first Lord of Dark Haven. It was the last time a great plague swept over this land. The girl took sick, but the healer they sent for never arrived. Some healers died tending their patients, and others fled, afraid to catch the disease. The girl died, and took with her many of the servants. In his grief, the Lord hanged himself. It's said that she's bound by her guilt over those deaths. No one ever thought to try to set her spirit at rest. She was only a ghost. But you tried. That changed something, m'lady. She looked to be at peace."
"I'm not a Summoner," Carina stammered. "I spent a year with Tris Drayke. I don't have anything like his power."
"The girl wasn't asking to pass across to the Lady. She wanted someone to end her pain. You were willing to try." Lisette took Carina's hands in her own icy grasp. "You're so overburdened now, I shouldn't ask. But if such a thing is possible, might it not be possible for you to become a mind healer? It's not just the power—it's the willingness to touch those of us others dismiss. Please, m'lady, won't you think on it?"