Ch. 267 The Healers Who Returned

Chapter 267: The Healers Who Returned

Ilyen returned with two wagons, four apprentices, and a goat.

The goat was not part of the medical supplies.

This distinction became necessary when it entered Greykeep’s lower yard ahead of everyone else.

The Castellan watched it cross the boundary.

“One animal. No divine authority. Significant determination.”

The goat climbed onto a stack of firewood.

Ilyen stepped down from the first wagon.

“You still announce everyone?”

“Yes.”

“Did you announce the goat?”

“Yes.”

“Good. She appreciates recognition.”

Evelyn reached her before I did.

The two women embraced.

Not politely.

Ilyen held my wife at arm’s length afterward and examined her face.

“You look tired.”

“She has been resting,” I said.

Evelyn glanced at me.

“Somewhat.”

Ilyen looked between us.

“That means no.”

“I slept last night.”

“For how long?”

Evelyn did not answer.

Ilyen turned to me.

“You look different.”

“I’ve been told.”

“Your hair.”

“Yes.”

“Your eyes.”

“Yes.”

“Your shoulders.”

Evelyn smiled.

Ilyen noticed.

“At least someone approves.”

Ilyen had spent the past several months traveling between the smaller settlements east of Havenreach.

The city had healers.

The villages had whoever could leave their own work long enough to help.

She had trained midwives.

Taught wound cleaning.

Established medicine stores.

Argued with three village councils about payment.

“Did you win?” Mary asked.

“Two.”

“What happened in the third?”

“They continue believing healers should accept gratitude instead of coin.”

Mary’s expression hardened.

“Which village?”

Ilyen gave her the name.

A new administrative problem began.

The apprentices unloaded boxes.

Bandages.

Dried herbs.

Clay medicine bottles.

Two folding cots.

A narrow wooden case Ilyen did not allow anyone else to touch.

Perrin approached it.

“No.”

“I only wanted to ask.”

“No.”

“You don’t know what I was going to ask.”

“Could I improve the case?”

Perrin looked offended.

“Possibly.”

“No.”

He moved toward the wagon wheels.

Ilyen pointed.

“No.”

Perrin left.

Experience was a formidable thing.

The goat remained on the firewood.

“What is her name?” Carol asked.

“Mallow.”

Our daughter held out both hands.

The goat considered her.

Then descended.

Garrick stepped between them.

Not protectively.

He wanted to reach Mallow first.

The space folded.

Both children arrived at the goat simultaneously.

Mallow looked at them.

Then at Ilyen.

“I warned you,” Ilyen said.

The goat accepted this.

Carol touched one horn.

Garrick touched the other.

Mallow rose two inches from the ground.

“No lifting the goat,” Evelyn said.

The twins lowered her.

Too quickly.

Mallow landed.

She did not appear disturbed.

Ilyen examined her legs.

“She is unharmed.”

“Is she always like this?” I asked.

“The goat?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Ilyen looked at the children.

“She is usually less patient.”

Mallow ate part of Garrick’s sleeve.

Our son laughed.

The relationship was established.

We brought Ilyen to the preserved district after lunch.

She stopped before the ancient door.

Evelyn explained the invitation.

The restrictions.

The charter.

The time differences.

The archive.

The steward’s role.

Ilyen listened without interrupting.

When Evelyn finished, she asked one question.

“Who is in charge of cleaning?”

Eleanor, Mary, and Evelyn looked at one another.

“That has not been assigned,” Mary said.

“Then no patients enter.”

“We haven’t opened the infirmary,” Evelyn replied.

“Good.”

Ilyen touched the pale arch.

“What should I say?”

“Your name,” Evelyn told her. “And why you wish to enter.”

“I am Ilyen. I am a healer. I have come to inspect whether this place is useful or merely impressive.”

The door opened.

I liked her answer.

The district appeared to as well.

Its lanterns brightened along the white road.

Ilyen stepped through.

She did not stop to admire the street.

She inspected the water channels.

The windows.

The infirmary beds.

The kitchen.

The medicine storage.

The garden.

She opened cupboards.

Moved furniture.

Found mold beneath one washstand.

Eleanor looked personally betrayed.

“I inspected that wall.”

“You did not inspect the washstand.”

“I will replace it.”

“Good.”

Ilyen entered the archive only after reading its rules twice.

She found the shelf of failed treatments.

Then remained there for nearly an hour.

Evelyn joined her.

Neither spoke at first.

I stood outside the archive door.

Still not invited.

This had become familiar.

At last, Ilyen emerged carrying three copied pages.

“You were right to reopen this.”

Relief crossed Evelyn’s face.

“You think so?”

“I think anyone who records failure this carefully deserves to be studied.”

“That was not what I expected you to say.”

“Successful healers enjoy writing about success. Useful healers write about what killed someone.”

Aurelia, standing in the garden, heard her.

Her expression became solemn.

Then approving.

Ilyen examined the steward charter next.

Evelyn watched her carefully.

“You know people have suggested me.”

“I assumed they would.”

“Do you think I should accept?”

“No.”

The answer came immediately.

Evelyn blinked.

I almost smiled.

“Why?”

“You have known the district for a week.”

“Eight days.”

“That changes everything.”

Evelyn folded her arms.

“You don’t believe I could do it?”

“I believe you could be persuaded to carry every patient, healer, argument, shortage, and failure until you forgot you were allowed to put any of them down.”

Aurelia looked toward Evelyn.

My wife noticed.

“You need not agree so visibly.”

“I said nothing.”

“You did not need to.”

Ilyen tapped the charter.

“This role has survived without a steward for centuries.”

“The district was closed.”

“And now it is open. The infirmary can work. The garden can grow. The archive can teach. Learn what requires a steward before becoming one.”

“That is what I said.”

“Good. Continue being sensible.”

Evelyn looked at me.

I raised both hands.

“I support the visiting healer.”

“Coward.”

“Yes.”

Ilyen examined the golden current beneath Evelyn’s skin.

Her expression changed.

“What is that?”

We told her.

Not in the street.

Evelyn invited her into one of the infirmary’s private rooms.

Aurelia joined us.

Maelin and Thesra arrived after Evelyn sent word.

The Castellan remained outside until invited.

Ilyen listened to the account of the mine.

The chapel bell.

The old records.

The refusal tests.

The slowed aging.

She did not look amazed.

She looked irritated.

“You began examining this without me.”

“You were three days east,” Evelyn said.

“There are crossings.”

“You were treating a fever outbreak.”

“That is not an excuse.”

“It is an excellent excuse.”

Ilyen considered.

“Fair.”

She opened the narrow wooden case.

Inside lay instruments.

Glass tubes.

Small blades.

Thread.

Measuring strings.

A polished metal disk.

A set of objects shaped like spoons but too sharp to approach food.

I moved my chair farther away.

“They are medical tools,” Ilyen said.

“They appear hostile.”

“They dislike kings.”

“That has become common.”

Ilyen took Evelyn’s pulse.

Then mine.

She compared them.

“Yours is too slow.”

“I am told it remains functional.”

“By whom?”

“The Castellan.”

“He is made of metal.”

“He is very precise.”

“That is not the same as being alive.”

The Castellan’s eyes brightened.

“I am alive.”

Ilyen looked at him.

“We should discuss that later.”

She examined Evelyn for nearly an hour.

Eyes.

Breathing.

Reflexes.

Magic recovery.

Skin temperature.

Response to healing.

The grey strand remained.

Ilyen inspected it.

Then found a dark hair from Evelyn’s brush and compared both beneath a small lens.

“What are you looking for?” I asked.

“Difference.”

“Did you find one?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“The grey one lacks color.”

Evelyn laughed.

Ilyen’s expression did not change.

I began to understand why they were friends.

Finally, Ilyen sat back.

“Your body is changing.”

“We know.”

“No. You know the Castellan detects slower decline. I am telling you the rest.”

Evelyn straightened.

Ilyen counted on her fingers.

“You heal minor injuries faster. Your resting pulse is stronger than it was before the twins were born. Old strain in your left wrist is gone. Your eyes recover from close work more quickly. You should be exhausted after yesterday. You are tired but not impaired.”

“Is that dangerous?”

“Not by itself.”

“Is it sainthood?”

“I am a healer, not a priest.”

Aurelia almost smiled.

Ilyen looked toward the golden light.

“Your body is not being preserved.”

“What is it doing?” I asked.

“Renewing.”

The word felt different.

Preservation held something still.

Renewal allowed change.

“Can that continue indefinitely?” Evelyn asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Could it lengthen her life by centuries?”

“I don’t know.”

“Could it—”

Ilyen looked at me.

“No.”

“I had not finished.”

“You were beginning a list.”

“She knows you,” Aurelia said.

“Everyone appears to.”

Ilyen closed the instrument case.

“I want monthly examinations.”

“Monthly?” Evelyn asked.

“Yes.”

“That seems frequent.”

“For a mortal woman becoming something no living healer in Greykeep has studied?”

Evelyn frowned at the wording.

Ilyen noticed.

“For Evelyn, whose body is changing in a way we do not understand.”

“Better.”

“Monthly. More often if symptoms appear.”

“What symptoms?”

“Any change you did not choose. Missing time. Compelled healing. Pain when refusing. Hearing prayers you do not wish to hear. Difficulty leaving the district. Loss of appetite. Unusual dreams.”

I looked toward Aurelia.

“She hears prayers.”

“Yes.”

“Did it begin like this?”

“No,” Aurelia said. “But I did not have anyone examining me.”

Ilyen took Evelyn’s hand.

“I will.”

The words were simple.

Evelyn’s eyes filled.

She nodded.

“Thank you.”

“And you will tell me when something changes.”

“Yes.”

“Not three days later.”

Evelyn glanced at me.

“That is becoming a pattern.”

“End it.”

“I will try.”

“No. Agree or refuse.”

Thesra appeared delighted.

Evelyn sighed.

“I agree.”

The golden current brightened.

Ilyen looked at it.

“That may become irritating.”

“We have noticed,” I said.

The transit gate sounded before we left the district.

Two clear notes.

One royal party from Concordia.

Four children.

Several guards.

Aurethar.

And something the Castellan described as a small animal carrying an independent grievance.

“That will be Shadow,” Thor said through the gate chamber.

Io’s voice followed.

“She dislikes travel.”

The black-and-white cat emerged first.

Her tail stood straight.

She looked at everyone as if Concordia had sent her to inspect our failures.

Mallow the goat stood at the far end of the corridor.

The two animals saw each other.

Ilyen closed her eyes.

“No.”

Neither listened.

Shadow approached.

Mallow lowered her head.

Carol and Seraphina ran between them.

Evelyn moved.

So did Io.

They reached the children at the same time.

Shadow stopped.

Mallow lifted her head.

The four of them stood in the gate chamber.

Two mothers.

Two daughters.

One cat.

One goat.

Garrick, Ignatius, and everyone else watched from a safer distance.

Io looked at Evelyn.

“Is the goat divine?”

“No,” Ilyen said.

Shadow climbed onto Thor’s shoulder.

Thor had arrived through the gate behind Io.

“The cat may disagree about herself.”

Shadow hissed.

Mallow ate a loose thread from the gate carpet.