“I’m not used to being met by dignitaries,” Snake said.
“I want you to know we would have invited you to stay with us under any circumstances, even if—” His voice trailed off.
“Ah,” Snake said. “Your father’s ill.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t have to be hesitant about asking for my help,” Snake said. “That’s my profession, after all. And if I get a free room, that’s an unexpected benefit.”
Snake still did not see Gabriel’s face, but the tension left his voice. “I just didn’t want you to think we’re the kind of people who never offer anything without expecting something in return.”
They continued on in silence. The road curved, rounding an outcropping of rock that had cut off the line of sight, and Snake saw the mayor’s residence for the first time. It was wide and high, built against the sloping face of a cliff. The usual black stone was highlighted with narrow stripes of white just below the roof, which presented a bank of shiny solar panels to the east and south. The windows of the upper rooms were tremendous panes curved to match the towers on either side of the main building. The lights shining through them revealed no flaws. Despite the windows and the carving on the tall wooden doors, the residence was as much fortress as showplace. It had no windows on its first floor, and the doors looked solid and heavy. Its far side was shielded by a second outcropping. The paved courtyard ended at the cliff, which at that spot was neither so steep nor so high as it was where Snake stood now. A lighted trail led to its foot, where lay stables and a bit of pastureland.
“It’s very imposing,” Snake said.
“It belongs to Mountainside, though my father has been living there since before I was born.”
They continued along the stone road.
“Tell me about your father’s illness.” She felt sure it was not too serious, or Gabriel would have been much more worried.
“It was a hunting accident. One of his friends put a lance through his leg. He won’t even admit it’s infected. He’s afraid someone will amputate it.”
“What does it look like?”
“I don’t know. He won’t let me see it. He hasn’t even let me see him since yesterday.” He spoke with resigned sadness.
Snake glanced at him, concerned, for if his father were stubborn and frightened enough to stand considerable pain, his leg could be so badly infected that the tissue was dead.
“I hate amputations,” Snake said quite sincerely. “You’d hardly believe the lengths I’ve gone to avoid doing them.”
At the entrance to the residence Gabriel called, and the heavy doors swung open. He greeted the servant and had him take Squirrel and Swift to the stables below.
Snake and Gabriel entered the foyer, an echoing chamber of smooth-polished black stone that reflected movement and blurry images. Because there were no windows it was rather dark, but another servant hurried in and turned up the gaslights. Gabriel set Snake’s bedroll on the floor, threw back his hood, and let his cloak slide off his shoulders. The polished walls mirrored his face erratically.
“We can leave your luggage here, someone will take it up.”
Snake laughed to herself at having her bedroll called “luggage,” as if she were a rich merchant about to set off on a buying trip.
Gabriel turned toward her. Seeing his face for the first time, Snake caught her breath. The inhabitants of Mountainside were very conscious of their beauty; this young man went out cloaked so heavily that Snake had wondered if he were plain, or even scarred or deformed. She was prepared for that. But in fact Gabriel was the most beautiful person she had ever seen. He was compactly built and well proportioned. His face was rather square, but not all planes and angles like Arevin’s; it reflected more vulnerability, feelings closer to the surface. He neared her and she could see that his eyes were an unusually bright blue. His skin was tanned the same shade as his dark-blond hair. Snake could not say why he was so beautiful, whether it was the symmetry of his features, and their balance, and his flawless skin, or qualities less definable, or all those and more; but he was, quite simply, breathtaking.
Gabriel looked at Snake expectantly, and she realized he thought she would leave the leather case behind, too. He did not seem to notice his effect on her.
“My serpents are in here,” she said. “I keep them with me.”
“Oh — I’m sorry.” He began to blush. The redness crept up his throat to his cheeks. “I should have known—”
“Never mind, it’s not important. I think I’d better see your father as soon as possible.”
“Of course.”
They climbed a wide, curving staircase of stone blocks rounded at the corners by time and wear.
Snake had never met an extremely beautiful person who was as sensitive to criticism as Gabriel, especially unintended criticism. Compellingly attractive people often exuded an aura of self-confidence and assurance, sometimes to the point of arrogance. Gabriel, on the other hand, seemed exceedingly vulnerable. Snake wondered what had happened to make him so.
The thick-walled stone buildings of mountain towns kept their rooms at a nearly constant temperature. After so long in the desert Snake was glad of the coolness. She knew she was sweaty and dusty from the day’s ride, but she did not feel tired now. The leather satchel made a satisfying weight in her hand. She would welcome a simple case of infection. Unless it was so bad she could do nothing but amputate, there would be small chance of complication, almost no chance of death. She was glad she would probably not have to face losing another patient so soon.
She followed Gabriel up a flight of spiral stairs. Gabriel did not even slow at the top, but Snake paused to glance around the enormous overpowering room. Its tall, smoke-colored window, the curved pane at the top of the tower, gave a spectacular view of the entire twilit valley. The scene dominated the whole room, and someone had realized that, for there was no furniture to detract from it except big wide pillows in neutral colors. The floor had two levels, an upper semicircle set against the back wall, to which the stairs led, and a lower, wider ring bordering the window.
Snake heard angry yelling, and a moment later an old man ran from the next room, bumping into Gabriel and knocking him off balance. The younger man, recovering, grabbed the older’s elbows to steady him just as the old man clutched at him for the same reason. They looked at each other gravely, oblivious to the humor of the situation.
“How is he?” Gabriel asked.
“Worse,” the old man said. He glanced beyond to Snake. “Is she — ?”
“Yes, I’ve brought the healer.” He turned to introduce her to the old man. “Brian is my father’s assistant. No one else can get near him.”
“Not even me, now,” Brian said. He pushed his thick white hair from his forehead. “He won’t let me see his leg. It hurts him so much he’s put a pillow under the blankets to hold them off his foot. Your father’s a stubborn man, sir.”
“No one knows better than me.”
“Stop the noise out there!” Gabriel’s father shouted. “Haven’t you any respect? Get out of my rooms.”
Gabriel straightened his shoulders and looked at Brian. “We’d better go in.”
“Not me, sir,” Brian said. “Me he ordered out. He said not to come back until he calls, if he calls.” The old man looked downcast.
“Never mind. He doesn’t mean it. He wouldn’t hurt you.”
“You believe that, sir, do you? That he doesn’t mean to hurt?”
“He doesn’t mean to hurt you. You’re indispensable. I’m not.”
“Gabriel—”the old man said, breaking his pose of servility.
“Don’t go far,” Gabriel said lightly. “I expect he’ll want you soon.” He entered his father’s bedroom.
Snake followed him inside, her eyes slowly accustoming themselves to the darkness, for curtains hid this large room’s windows and the lamps were not lit.