Chapter 22

She put her hand lightly on his chest, feeling the subdued motions of his breathing. Her mind reached in, focusing first on where the knife entered. The wound felt somehow slimy to her mind, as if the knife had been coated in evil that had been smeared within the wound.

She reached in to the partially cut spinal cord and it was as if she could see lights running through his body through the nerves above the wound. There were only very dim lights running past the wound to most of his body. She felt the edges of his mind, and there was no boundary pushing her away. Instead she felt like she was standing on a sandy slope. She felt herself slide.

The images came in a rush. A man comforting a crying woman, her protesting angrily about something being not fair. A city more grand than anything she had ever envisioned. Tall towers reaching up to the sky, everything bright and clean and in good repair.

She saw a building that looked like a black orb hanging in the air. A narrow stairway ascended to it. Closer she could see that there were windows and balconies concealed in shadows so that they did not interrupt the round silhouette.

She saw great long halls with impossibly tall ceilings. She saw people in exotic clothes and robes and gowns of every color, and the people were graceful and beautiful. She saw one man whose age she could not begin to guess, and somehow she knew that he had no other name but Teacher.

And there were darker images, as well, and they terrified her, but she could not escape. She saw a man with skin more black than the blackest ink she had ever seen, and he wielded a sword of flame. She saw multi-headed monsters and she stood on the deck of a ship being lifted out of the water.

There was a woman, smiling yet sad, and she felt a love for her stronger than words. She felt the anger watching the funeral fire consume her body.

There was a forest, and flowers of every color, and dancing faeries. Music came to her, joyful music.

And she saw a painting of a city in ruins. She saw a map, and a straight line across it was dotted with Xs crossing out cities and towns. Another map, a newer map, with the same line, but there were no Xs yet... just a circle at the place in the map marked Eagle's Harbor.

The image shattered before her at the sound of something nearby falling to the ground. Blinking, she looked around the cellar, realizing that the light was coming from the rats she'd sent flying. It was an eerie red glow that was slowly fading, and the rats themselves had begun falling from where they'd stuck when hitting the walls. A few had flown high, and the sound that had startled her had been one of those smacking suddenly down to the ground. Others began to peel away from the wall and slip to the floor with wet thumping noises. She saw some that just slid down the wall, leaving smears of blood and entrails behind on the stone walls, some embedded in the crevices between stones. A wave of nausea overtook her momentarily before the glowing corpses suddenly winked out all at once, leaving her kneeling there in almost total darkness.

Trying to keep calm, Lynna turned her attention back to the wound in Agmar's back. With her mind, she gently took either end of the cut section and tried to will them to rejoin again. They stretched towards each other, but refused to connect. She realized she couldn't tell for sure which ends needed to be connected to which. Fear washed cold over her body and she froze for a moment, unsure how to proceed. She nearly leapt out of her skin entirely when a hand suddenly touched her shoulder.

"Lynna? How is he?" Margaret's voice was soft, and her face was creased with worry in the light of the candle she carried, encased in a brass lantern with panes of glass to protect the flame from the wind.

"Margaret -- I -- I don't know what to do!" she blurted out, realizing she was wailing like a small child as she said it. "He's dying. If I don't heal him, he'll die. But I don't know how to fix it!"

"Focus, Lynna." Syred's voice came out of the darkness next to Agmar. She had forgotten he was there, though she knew he was wounded too.

"But father's injured too! He said to help Agmar first, but I've never seen him so --"

"Your father has some time yet. They've slowed the bleeding, and I think I can patch him up if you can't help him, so don't you worry. Tell me about Agmar's wound. Describe what you see to me and I'll try and help guide you." Margaret's voice was soft and calm, and she sat down next to Lynna, her hand still on her shoulder.

Lynna took a deep breath and took her mind back into Agmar's body and focused on the wound again. Agmar's breathing seemed shallower than before, and she realized he was forcing his body to do it magically.

"The knife wound is in the back, and it went between some of the bones that run up the center. It cut the spinal cord. Not completely, but a lot of lines of energy that run through are severed. I can see them glowing, although there's this -- oily -- feeling across the ends of them, as if the evil left a taint behind when the blade came out. And I don't know which ends match up with which other ends."

I could show you. You must work quickly if I do. It would take all my focus. Agmar's voice in her mind seemed afraid. She wanted to cry, feeling as if she was letting him down.

"He says he can show me how they connect," she told Margaret. "But I'll have to heal quickly."

"Just stay focused then," Margaret squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "I'm right here with you, in case I can assist somehow."

You can do this. I need you to do this. Trust your heart. You have good healing instincts - use them. I'm going to show you the path.

Lynna focused all of her concentration onto the wounded part of the spinal cord, and suddenly she saw the different lines of energy change colors. She could tell that the different colors were indicating the different lines that connected to each other, and she pulled with her mind, bringing lines of the same color towards each other to connect again. When she brought the first to into contact, they seemed to slide away from each other, and the oily substance glowed slightly.

"No!" she cried. "There was something on the blade! It's keeping the ends from connecting again!"

"Can you hold it steady while we turn him over? So we don't make the wound worse? Can you do that Lynna?" Margaret's voice was soft but insistent in her ear. "I'll flush the wound with water to clean it out." Lynna realized that Margaret had brought her bag with her, and was rummaging through it until she came up with a metal flask and what looked like a miniature bellows.

"I'll try. Do it quick." She focused on keeping the lines still within his back while Syred helped Margaret turn him over onto his stomach. Margaret took the bellows and pulled water out of the flask with them, before squeezing hard to make the water spray against the wound on his back. Inside, Lynna could see that the oily substance had been diluted some.

"More," she said, gritting her teeth in frustration. She could still feel his mind, but Agmar was no longer breathing. Margaret repeated the process, flushing more water into the wound twice more before Lynna could make the first connection stick. Agmar's mind felt small, as if he was drifting away from her, and she worked quickly, reconnecting the lines to their matching colors as fast as her mind could make them. A couple of times they slipped, and she had to try again to make the connection she'd been trying for. Once she was done, she sealed the rest of the wound.

She couldn't feel Agmar's mind touching hers.

"He's stopped breathing," Margaret said. "I've got to flip him over again. Lynna, we have to get him breathing."

Lynna sat back, in shock. I've failed, she thought to herself. No! He has to still be in there! She pushed deep, forcing her mind into one of the glowing lines she had reconnected, and following it up into his skull. She searched, pushing hard against his physical brain, following pathways until she thought she saw a glimmering area. She was vaguely aware of Margaret pushing her aside as she pounded on Agmar's chest and breathed into his mouth to try and get him breathing again. Lynna dove forward into the glimmer, caught it in her own mind, and then suddenly found herself consumed by it.

She stood next to Agmar, looking out a window as a storm brewed and destroyed boats that bobbed up and down like toys on the violent waves of the sea. She looked at him. His hair was gray and his face wrinkled and weathered from age.

"I was not meant for a normal life. I should be dead already," he said.

She looked out the window again, and this time it overlooked a battlefield littered with charred and broken bodies. Agmar stood upon the field, a sword glowing in his hands and his clothes covered in blood.

"We need you here," she said. "Agmar, please... I don't know what to do."

He looked at her, his eyes cold and distant as if he didn't really see her.

"I never asked for this."

"You said it was a gift. But I don't know enough to use mine. I need you to teach me, Agmar. And we'll all die if you don't help us," she pleaded. She wanted to throw her arms around him to either shake him or comfort him, but she couldn't seem to make herself move. Outside the window, a darkness seemed to be setting across Eagle's Harbor and she could see people screaming for help as they burned inside their homes, their fists banging against the glass of windows that refused to break. Agmar seemed confused by the scene, and Lynna suddenly realized that it had come from her own mind and not his, and then she knew how it all worked. She reached and then she was next to him, putting her hand on his arm.

"Please, Agmar. Don't go." His eyes filled with pain and he turned away from her. She saw images flash in front of the window in a shifting stream. She saw the woman again and again, as well as the Teacher. She also saw thousands of dead bodies, some lying where they fell and others prepared for burial. The Agmar standing beside her took a long breath and straightened his shoulders.

"I have an obligation to mankind. Such is my calling and my destiny. I will not ignore my responsibility." He said it as if reciting it to remind himself. Suddenly, she found herself flying backwards, away from him. She threw her arms up, to cover her face, as she catapulted towards a stone wall...

"Damnit, Agmar! BREATHE! Come on!"

Lynna found herself sitting next to Agmar on the stone floor of the cellar, her hands thrown up in front of her face as Margaret continued to pound on Agmar's chest. Suddenly the wizard sputtered and gasped for air, turning on his side and curling up into a fetal position.

It took a couple of minutes before Agmar sat up. He still looked weak and dazed, but he was moving.

"Thank you," he said to her. His voice was soft and a little shaky. "Now go help your father."

She stood up, and she noticed that the odd sensation she had first felt when she had entered the cellar was gone. She moved up the stairs, worried at what condition her father would be in. Margaret followed her up.

Avern was leaning against a remaining piece of foundation, clutching his chest. His face showed the pain he was feeling. She rushed over to him.

"Daddy!" He had cuts on his arms, a little one on his cheek, and there was too much blood on the front of his shirt. "What happened?"

"Lloyd Marks," he said with obvious difficulty.

"Wait. Let me help you first," she insisted. There were bandages around cuts on his arms, and he was pressing a towel over his stomach. His face was pale, but he was able to look at her. Maybe it's not as bad as it looks.

Margaret helped her lay her father down. She took the towel away and had to open up his shirt to find the black stab wound. Margaret called for more water, and Steve and Jeff, the two young men Syred taught swordsmanship to other than his son-in-law Eric, both rushed to help.

Margaret was gently prodding her fingers on and around his chest while they waited, until Avern inhaled sharply when she reached a specific spot on the left side of his chest. He groaned, gritting his teeth against the pain.

"Father?" she'd been focused on the stab wound, seeing that it had nearly torn clear through the other side of the section of intestine it had cut open. She was silently grateful for Mr. Tarrence's nature lessons and the time he'd made them group up to cut open frogs to see what was inside. He'd made a big deal about comparing the frog's innards to the ones that would be found inside people at the time. She'd originally found the whole lesson repulsive, but now she realized she had some idea of what she was looking at when she was healing people. She realized that they would need to clean the stab wound thoroughly to avoid infection from the stuff leaking out of the intestine as much as to get rid of the oily substance from Lloyd's knife.

"He's got a broken rib too. I think it's pierced the lung. That's why he's having so much chest pain and trouble breathing."

Lynna gulped and did her best to focus, nodding at Margaret.

"You're going to have to move the rib back out of the lung and then heal the lung first. Then you can put the rib back into place." Margaret pulled the shirt away from that part of his chest, and Lynna saw what looked like a large puple and yellow bruise across the lower left part of his torso. Steve came up next to them and whistled as he set down a full bucket of water next to them.

"That don't look so good," he remarked.

"Thank you Steve. Why don't you boys go see if you can help Syred up here so we can look at him next."

"Yes ma'am." Steve headed off towards the cellar, calling Eric and Jeff to help him, just as Stott came running up gasping for breath.

"How did -- so fast?" He sat down on the ground next to them to catch his breath.

Lynna realized she didn't know how she'd gotten there so quickly. She had heard Agmar's call and told Margaret she had to go. Margaret had grabbed her bag, saying she'd come with, and they had left the inn. Somehow it had taken them only moments to get across town when it should have taken much longer. She made a note to ask Agmar about it later, suspecting she'd done something magic without realizing it again.

"See if you can heal the lung and rib while I get this stab wound cleaned out," Margaret directed. Lynna placed her hand on her father's chest, just next to the wound, being careful not to put any pressure near the wounded rib. She closed her eyes and felt with her mind, seeing the rib broken in two places and the tear it made where one jagged edge had pierced into his lung.

"This might hurt," she said, hoping she was wrong.

"Do it, Lynna," he grunted through clenched teeth.

She gently slid the bone backwards out of the lung and sealed the hole it had made before putting the pieces of bone the right way and fusing them together again. A small piece had snapped off at some point and it took her a moment to find it before she fused it back into place as well. The process left her sweating from focusing so hard and ignoring her father's howls of pain as she worked. When she finished she realized her hands were shaking and tears were streaming down her cheeks. She turned quickly to the stab wound, which Margaret had flushed thoroughly with water, and found that healing it was much simpler as she pulled the pieces of intestine closed again, followed by the flesh leading to it. After she'd finished that, she allowed her mind to course across his whole body and she quickly healed up all the smaller cuts that the bandages on his arms were covering. When she sat back she realized she was exhausted and had used up all of the extra energy she'd pulled into herself when she had first arrived at the cellar. She couldn't keep her hands from shaking and she felt so cold her teeth seemed to chatter. The people around her were looking at her in alarm. Her father sat up, color already returning to his face, and he pulled her into his arms and rocked her gently back and forth.

"It's alright sweetie. You used more than you had is all. It will pass soon. I saw your mother do it once too." He stroked her hair and held her for a while. She could feel the love pouring into her through his arms and buried herself in it until she finally felt herself returning to normal again.

She sat there in her father’s arms a couple minutes longer than strictly necessary. She felt warm and safe and loved.

"Never be ashamed of what you are or what you can do," he said to her. "I'm proud of you, and I know that some of your brightest moments are just coming."

She hugged him back while Eric and Jeff helped Syred out of the cellar. Agmar came up with them. Agmar walked out on his own, but the movements were a little stiff. Lynna helped Avern stand up. It looked to her like he didn't need the help so much as he took it anyway.

"Are you alright, Agmar?" Avern asked.

"There is still damage that Lynna was not able to repair, but it will heal over the next few days. She has learned a lot in a short time."

"She has, hasn't she?" Lynna blushed, uncomfortable at being talked about, so she moved over to Syred. He had a slash on his chest and a lot of bites and little cuts but did not actually look too bad off. She felt that she had to concentrate to help him, but it was not a huge effort. She took her time with it, and closed his wounds up.

"A lot of people thanking you lately, huh?" he said to her humbly. She could see that there was more that he was not saying, and she purposefully held back from reading him. Curious as she was, she was also tired and she knew she needed to be more in the habit of reigning herself in.

"Yeah, I guess," she replied. "I wish there were less people getting hurt though."

"Have to agree with you there," Syred said, nodding.

"I am sorry to say that it is only likely to get worse today and tomorrow," Agmar said as he came over to them.

"I hate to think of what that means," Avern said, sighing. "Although it would be best if you didn't say that too often, Agmar, or morale around here will plummet. I've been trying to help people keep a positive outlook, you know."

"Considering the fact that I very nearly died a few moments ago, I would have to say that my own outlook is slightly less than positive, Avern. The evil has shown itself to be more than just a force of rage, but instead shows that it can be cunning and directly effect certain things. It managed to shadow Lloyd Marks so that I could not detect his arrival until it was too late. It also tainted the knife. Lloyd Marks was being used in the same manner as the evil used Stott's brother, but the rest of this is new. It is trying to adapt its methods to the people it is preying upon."

A silence fell over the small group, and several of them glanced over at Lloyd Marks' body, which lay in the grass still leaking blood that soaked into the earth beneath it.

"We're not gonna make it, are we?" Steve's face had gone pale, and he fidgeted with the leather wrapping on the hilt of the sword that hung in its scabbard attached to his belt. It looked very plain when compared to the one that Syred carried.

"It's always better to fight on terrain you know, Steve," Syred said quietly. "This town is ours, and we know the people in it. We still have the advantage."

"Exactly," Avern nodded. "Good point, Captain. Now let's see about getting some of that food out of the cellar and move it to the inns."

Lynna watched as her father went into "mayor mode", handing out tasks to Steve, Jeff, Eric, and Syred. Stott helped Margaret gather up things to put back into her bag. She turned to Agmar to see what he wanted her to do next. She realized that he hadn't established a mental contact with her again yet, and wondered why. They had been in touch mentally almost constantly since the night before. The look on his face suggested he was thinking, so she stood there awkwardly, not wanting to interrupt. While she waited, she briefly reviewed some of the images she had seen in his mind when she had been trying to heal him.

She put out her hand and tried, but the air seemed to keep pushing back out, like a sponge.

"You are pushing the air together, which it does not want to do. Have you ever seen a magnet?"

She nodded, remembering a class when Mr. Tarrence had passed around two large pieces of metal that were shaped like horseshoes and seemed to grab up little pieces of metal. She had remembered thinking that it might as well have been magic for all she understood about how it worked.

"Think of a spot above the palm of your hand as being a magnet and the air around it as being metal that the magnet wants to attract. Pull the air and energy to you. Draw it in instead of forcing it."

It took her a few tries before she got the air to stay together at the same thickness she'd seen Agmar get it to, but finally she got it there. She added some energy, as he had done, and the small globe of thickened air glowed for a moment before dissipating into thousands of tiny little glowing embers that winked out as they floated away.

"You have to maintain it. The same as the sound barrier needs to be held in place, this does too. Once you get the hang of it it only takes a small amount of energy to keep it going though." He gave her a smile. "Keep trying. You will get it."

Lynna noticed that it was easier to form the globe this time, and when she lit it she kept a thin line of energy going into it. It flickered and threatened to go out again until she found the right amount needed to maintain it.

"Good. After you do that enough times it becomes almost instinctive." He let the little light in his own hand disappear.

"Are - are you angry with me?" she asked him nervously.

"No. Why would you think that?" His brow creased as he looked at her.

"You haven't... I mean... usually you've been staying connected." She tapped her fingertip against the side of her head. "And I accidentally sort of slipped into your memories I think. I didn't mean to, honestly. I just sort of slid. And..." she gulped a little before continuing. "You didn't seem to want to come back." She lowered her eyes and looked at the little ball of light as it seemed to dance around in her palm. She heard him sigh.

"I am not angry with you, Lynna," he replied, lowering his voice so others wouldn't hear. "I had to let you in so that you could heal me and I expected that you might see some things as a result. I trust that you will keep those things to yourself. I am much older than I appear and have seen and done many things in my life. For a moment there I did not want to come back. Death seemed far easier and less painful. Earlier today you believed you would be safe inside the warmth of fire and you let it burn you. I was in a similar place. The evil we are facing preys upon such moments."

"The reason I have not connected to you again yet is twofold," he continued, lowering his voice even more. "For one, you are right here. I have no need to tell you things magically when I can save my energy and talk to you as any other person might. The other reason, however, is that I am using much of my energies right now for other tasks. My body understands how to breathe on its own again, but it doesn't yet understand, for example, that the connection to my legs has been restored. Until it remembers I must divert some of my energy to help my body perform certain tasks."

"Oh." She regarded him with some astonishment. "You can't walk? Could I fix it?"

"You already have," he assured her. "But some things the body must do on its own. I cannot just force my mind to know that my legs are connected again. It must find its own way. In the meantime I can magically force my body to perform normally which will help the healing along. I suspect it would also be bad for morale if people were to know that I can't currently walk of my own accord."

"Well, there's probably no need to tell anyone...yeah, I think people would worry more if they knew," she agreed.

"So, um, if you don't mind my asking...how old are you?"

Agmar laughed softly for a moment before answering. "Older than I look. Older than anyone you know. Older than anyone in this town has ever known, probably. I will not live forever, but considerably longer than most."

"Oh." That didn't seem like much of an answer, but she let it go. "So does that mean I'll live longer, too? It is a magic thing?"

"It can be, if you choose to. Many things affect it. The earlier you start, for one. The more power you have, for another. Just using magic can slow the aging process, but using more than you have can accelerate it.

"Remember that right now you are in effect using borrowed power. When this is over some of the things that are easier now will take more effort for you."

He had mentioned that before. Part of her was worried that she would miss the power, and part of her thought she would be relieved when it was gone. She didn't want to hurt anyone, and she did understand that that was a very real possibility while she had more power than she knew how to use.

"However, I do not want you to think that greater or lesser strength makes what you can do more or less significant. You can do things that very few people can do. The fact that some people can do them better than you does not make you less extraordinary.

"And that is also why I so often talk about control. You will find that there are two ways to use magick. One is through direct strength. Some wizards have abundant strength. With brute force you can smash open a door. But what fewer have is subtlety and finesse, and subtlety, although not as direct and not as flashy, can be even more effective in its own right.

"When you healed my back, it was not through direct strength. When you listened and looked into other rooms, it was not through direct strength. When you hear people's thoughts, and understand what they are feeling, that is not direct strength. Later you will learn that those things are only the beginnings of what you can learn to do."

Agmar let his last sentence trail off and she wondered how much power she actually had by herself. She had been reading people for a long time, almost naturally. Now he had said that making light would come naturally. She wondered what other things would come naturally years from now.

Her train of thought was interrupted as Stott came over to join them.

"What's next, then?" he asked, with a slight grin. Lynna found herself blushing, despite herself. Ever since he'd kissed her she had been feeling different around him. A part of her wanted nothing more than the chance to be alone with him, but she knew that right now wasn't the time to indulge in such things. She was surprised at how easily her father seemed to be taking it, after he had seen them kissing. She'd somehow always expected her father to immediately despise any boy she might take an interest in.

"So eager for the next disaster, Stott?" Agmar asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh no! No sir! I just - um..." he trailed off, his smile fading and concern washing over his face. "I just want to help is all, I'm not looking for there to be more trouble."

Agmar chuckled slightly. "I did not really believe that you did, Stott."

"Oh good." Stott looked visibly relieved.

"So, how are you really?" Margaret came up behind Stott, looking at Agmar dubiously.

"I am healing, Margaret. I will require some time before I am fully recovered, but I am healing," he replied with a nod.

"That would would have killed anyone else. I had you pegged as the one I wouldn't have to watch over during this ordeal, so try not to get mortally wounded again, yes?" She gave him a stern look.

"I shall do my utmost to comply with that request, believe me." Agmar stood up, and Lynna wondered briefly how he was doing the magicks he used to make his body work.

"I am going to head back to the Surf and Sleep. Should Lynna and Stott continue with me or will they be staying with you now?" Margaret asked.

"I think we are all heading back to the Surf and Sleep for the moment, actually," he answered. "I expect that we are coming close to the expected time for the evening meeting, and I was hoping to scrounge up a small something to eat first. I am quite sure Lynna is hungry as well. Magic can sometimes be no less taxing that physical work. It merely uses different energies."

Lynna realized, as he said it, that her stomach was aching. She hadn't remembered to eat anything since the brief breakfast she'd managed to get in before eggs had started hatching in the kitchen at the inn. It occurred to her that she hadn't really had much of a chance for anything since then, including a little rest. She nodded at Margaret, who had glanced over at her while Agmar had been speaking.

"I could use something to eat about now," she said. "I imagine that Stott's hungry too." She didn't really know if Stott was hungry or not, although she expected he might be as he'd been at her side nearly all day and probably hadn't eaten any more than she had. Mostly, she wanted him nearby.

Eventually the last of the supplies were sorted out and divided into stacks for each location. Avern reviewed how it was all being distributed, and Agmar nodded approvingly. Lynna realized she would have had no idea how to decide which location needed what.

People from the gathered crowd were enlisted for transporting the goods to each location. Mary's inn was the only location not represented here yet, but one group promised to run there with the message.

"Syred," Agmar began, "I would like you and your men to stay here and guard over all this. Keep it orderly and organized, and keep it safe. Make sure groups remain groups of four. I think that will be a safer number."

"If Jacob Bentz shows up," Avern piped in, "tell him everything has been divided up and if he needs anything he'll have to talk to me first."

Syred chuckled. "I figured that's what Agmar meant by keep it safe..."

Agmar, Avern, Margarent, Stott and Lynna all went to the Surf and Sleep, followed by a group of four with bags and a hand cart of supplies. Stott, not having been recently wounded, lent a hand as well.

The sky was dark with heavy clouds. There were angry flashes within the clouds, but nothing strong enough to be actual lightning yet.

"For today the evil still has to recover some after each attack it makes," Agmar warned. "Tomorrow, and perhaps even tonight, it will be able to bring its full power to bear. It will be able to act in more than one place at once, and will need no resting or pausing." He looked up at the clouds, "Be ready for a storm unlike any you have seen before."

"I think we will be," Avern said as the Surf and Sleep came into sight ahead.

Some people had started gathering early, but they did not seem to be milling about nervously. Lynna saw a few munching on breads and apples. There was a boy she didn't recognize absently running his fingers through his hair. Larna Tannin was nursing her little boy. Little Tarmy was almost a year old. It was a crowd gathering to hear news. It did not feel like a crowd gathered out of fear. Lynna hoped Agmar or Avern would be able to tell them something cheerful to preserve the mood.

Mary and Elsa were waiting on the porch. Mary sat in the rickety rocking chair that was normally there, and it looked as if someone had pulled one of the chairs from the dining room out onto the porch for Elsa. Both of them stood up as they saw the group arriving, and Lynna suddenly realized with some distress that everyone gathered so far had turned to look at them. It seemed as if most of them were watching either her or Agmar.

Do not let it concern you, Agmar's mental voice came softly in her mind. I believe the entire town heard my call for you. I did not have the time, nor energy, available to limit it so only you would hear. It is natural that they would be curious to see what caused such a call.

Is it alright for you to talk to me like this? she asked. I wouldn't want you to lose focus on walking...

My magical strength is returning some already, so yes. he answered. But if there is something else I need to concentrate on I will be unable to maintain a connection with you. If you need me, you will have to actively seek me out from now on. I may have to continue maintaining my legs and a few other functions for the next couple of days, which will divide my energy.

"I suggest we all get a bite to eat before the meeting begins," Agmar said audibly.

"Agreed," Lynna's father concurred. "I suspect that there will be some relieved faces in the kitchen when we show up with all of this. It will make the rations a lot heartier for the next couple of days."

When they ascended the steps onto the porch, Elsa and Margaret immediately moved to each other, sharing details of what had been going on while they had been in different places. Mary moved quickly towards Avern, but then stopped a couple of steps away, looking uncertain. Lynna smiled as she watched her father stride over to her without hesitation and put out his arm. She took a quick, nervous glance at the growing crowd, many of whom were still watching the group head into the inn, before she slipped her arm into his and headed into the inn at his side. Lynna held herself back from the desire to peer in and see what each of them were feeling as she followed them towards the kitchen.

The effects of the kitchen fire earlier had already been cleaned up, and the only evidence of the near disaster was some black charring of the rafters nearest the stove. Pots and bowls were covering most of the countertops, many covered over with cheesecloth, and it appeared that the cooks had taken their kitchen back for the most part. There was one countertop which appeared to hold nothing but bottles, packets, jars and jugs relating to Margaret's herbs, but otherwise the items being chopped and cleaned in the kitchen seemed to all be food-related, as the employees of the Surf and Sleep bustled about, organizing what they had.

Lynna noticed that everything seemed to be divided into sections based on whether or not it was cooked, needed to be cooked, or was the type of food, like fruit, that came ready to eat. Lynna listened patiently while the cook explained the logistics of it all to Avern, who filled her in on what other items they had brought. In the meantime, some of the serving girls handed out bowls of a cold stew with pieces of bread to everyone who had just arrived. She started eating eagerly, finding herself even more hungry at the smell. She could tell it would have been much tastier if it had still been hot, but she was hungry enough not to care.

Agmar found a place to sit while he ate, and he remained there until it was time for the meeting. Lynna sat with him, although neither of them spoke. Lynna wanted to be around him in case there was some way that she could help him. She suspected he would be reluctant to ask, but she didn't want him doing more than he should just because she wasn't around.

She did manage to take his bowl away from him when he was finished. She had finished before him. When he was finished she promptly stood and held her hand out for the bowl. He smiled as he handed it over.

The kitchen felt more or less normal, if more crowded and busy than normal. Every serving dish in the inn had been used, plus some that people had brought from nearby homes. Lynna added the two bowls to one of several piles, and even offered to help. She was turned away, so she wandered back to Agmar.

He was still where she had left him. His body was still in the chair and his mind was still lost wherever it was wandering. She left him to think in peace and moved to the porch, where she found Mary still in the rickety rocker.

Somewhere someone was playing a lute. While it wasn't enough to seem festive, it did lend a lighter air to the crowd that was mostly gathered.

"So how are you feeling?" she asked Mary.

"I think maybe you've spent too much time around Margaret," Mary teased. "I'm gradually feeling better. Food helps, but I can only eat so much.

"Mostly I feel like I should be at my own inn instead of here. Here I'm just someone sitting around in the way. At home I could be sitting around supervising and watching over my girls." A concerned look snuck across Mary's face, but Lynna let it go unquestioned for now.

The lute ended when Avern came out. Agmar followed. The hubbub of the crowd died down as conversations ended or trailed away.

Lynna listened quietly while her father spoke to the crowd. She only half-heard the things her father was saying as she found herself listening to the mental voices of the crowd instead. She didn't try and read them deeply, but opened her mind to hearing the lull of surface thoughts that came as they listened to Avern addressing them.

She heard a mixture of responses to the news of Lloyd Marks' death, varying from disbelief or sadness to some who thought it served him right. Most seemed relieved to hear about the food that had been retrieved from the cellar, however. She noticed her father glossed over the details surrounding Agmar's injury and how Lloyd Marks had actually died, although everything he did tell them was truthful.

Most seemed to have gotten the news about cookfires, and a few people reported other fires that had gotten out of hand briefly, but had been dealt with quickly enough to avoid any real injury. Some concern was expressed over the clouds and lightning, which Agmar addressed, warning people that the lightning would likely become worse tomorrow, and people would be safer indoors.

Avern answered a few questions, and suggested that he make a circuit two or three times the next day, to each location, instead of having everyone leave the shelter of the buildings for meetings. The crowd seemed to accept that idea, and he told them he would make the first circuit starting after breakfast. He reminded them all that the Surf and Sleep was going to be the best place to bring anyone that was injured or sick, and then finished up with another short morale-boosting bit about how the town was at it's best when everyone worked together. No one spoke it, but Lynna heard several people wonder how together the town really was with Jacob Bentz's crowd having separated themselves. She also heard a couple of rude thoughts aimed in Mary's direction, suggesting she was attempting to move "above herself" by moving in on him during a difficult time, as well as suggesting that her father might forget to keep them informed because of her "distracting" him. She clenched her teeth a little, noting which of the people had been thinking such things, without looking at them directly. She put them on her mental list of people who might still cause trouble, even with Bentz's group separated out.

The meeting adjourned and the mood was still reasonably light and hopeful as people began dispersing to head back to their respective quarters for the night. Several people stayed to catch her father's attention and ask a couple more questions that wouldn't have pertained to the whole crowd, and Avern did his best to answer each of them. She also saw him seek out a couple people that he wanted to speak to himself.

Agmar leaned up against one wall, looking casual, and answered a few questions that were directed at him. The distant look he had when he wasn't speaking to anyone directly suggested to Lynna that he may have been listening to the crowd too, feeling out the overall mood if nothing else. She found herself wondering if he always did that when in or near a crowd of people, and what other things he might do with his magicks that came naturally or he found useful to use often. She knew now that she wanted to know more, and wondered how much she could learn from him before Agmar left for the next town. Then again, she didn't know if the town would still accept her after this was all over, and wondered if it wouldn't be wise to go with Agmar when he left.

But what about father? And he's with Mary now - what about that? And... her thoughts raced around in circles, and what about Stott? Her stomach drew into knots at the thought of leaving before she had a chance to see where things were headed with Stott. Frustrated at how complicated it all seemed, she put the whole thing out of her mind for the moment and turned back to Mary.

"Maybe Margaret can give you some idea as to when you can go back to your inn. If nothing else, you might be able to go in the morning when my father goes to check up on things there."

"I don't like the idea of being away all night right now, Lynna. I'd just feel better if I could watch over things myself." Lynna could tell that Mary was trying to mask some deeper fears, but somehow had the feeling it wasn't something she wanted to discuss. She sat there quietly, not wanting to pry and keeping herself from peeking into the woman's mind just to satisfy a curiosity. It did occur to her, however, that the woman seemed to think of the girls who worked at her inn more like daughters than employees. She wondered who was looking out for them right now, while Mary was sitting here instead.

It took a while before the crowd thinned away to nothing. A few other people loitered on the porch. She could hear a bustle and murmur from inside. It was growing dark two hours early, and most were gathered inside with safely enclosed candle lanterns. Eventually Avern, Agmar, Stott, and her were the only ones still standing around Mary.

Lightning flashed through the sky, briefly bringing to life harsh shadows. It was immediately over the town and the total lack of thunder was deeply eerie. Lynna shivered.

"Avern," Mary said, "I need to be at my inn. I'm needed there, and here I'm just in the way."

"I'll go with you--walk you there."

"Take others with you," Agmar reminded the mayor.

"I think Syred's still around, I'll gather up him and a couple of his men. That'll be a safe escort there and back."

"Good enough. Do not be gone long; your presence here has considerable effect."

"Yes, Master Wizard..." Avern teased with a grin.

"Do not get me started, young one," Agmar joked back before turning and heading inside."

"He has a sense of humor...who would've thought," Stott said with a laugh once Agmar was well inside.

"I think there's a lot to him we don't know," was all Lynna said on the matter. Avern shook his head and went inside--to find Syred, she supposed.

"I suspect that that one has more secrets than this entire town put together," Mary said. "But he is unlikely to be sharing much with the likes of us. That wizard not much for trusting us simple folk. Most aren't, actually."

"You've known wizards before?" Stott looked at her with some surprise.

"Some more intimately than others, but yes. I new one or two before I came here. But this entire continent is generally against magicks. I'd say ninety percent of the religions seem to think than anyone using magic is making a pact with the devil or some other such nonsense. But port cities show more tolerance for wizards passing through. Just so long as they don't try to settle down or there's likely to be a lynching." She rolled her eyes. "But then most people ought to be smarter than to try and lynch a wizard. I heard of one instance where the wizard didn't take too kindly to them wanting him dead, and burned their church to the ground with most of the priests still inside. The fire never spread past that one building, but it took almost a week to put it out. The wizard supposedly took the next boat out of town once the ashes had cooled. Based on what I saw was left of Lloyd's tavern, it wouldn't surprise me if Agmar could pull off something like that if he wanted to."

"I didn't know you were full of stories," Stott said, chuckling.

"I'm full of a lot of things, Stott. But then most people don't consider my inn to be the place to come to for tales of adventure. And most of my stories are second-hand. I've only a few secrets of my own, and they aren't really worth the telling, to be honest."

"Not all stories worth telling are filled with action. Sometimes it's just in how you tell it. There's lots of books and songs filled with nothing but romance or loss of loved ones, for example."

"And it's likely you've read them all by now," she said, smiling.

Stott started to protest, but was interrupted by Avern coming back out of the inn with Syred and Eric.

"Your escort, M'lady," Avern said with a slight bow. Mary blushed and rose from the chair to take the arm he offered her. Lynna gave her father a smile as he looked at her.

"We'll come straight back after we've seen Mary home," he told her. "Stay safe until then."

"I will father."

Avern gave Stott a quick nod and then headed down the stairs with Syred and Eric taking positions at either side of the couple. Lynna could hear the four of them start talking Myrah and Eric's new baby as they headed down the road. After they turned a corner and were out of sight, she suddenly realized that she and Stott were alone on the porch. The street had cleared of people, although the Surf and Sleep seemed to hum with voices and footsteps, causing a light vibration of the porch floorboards beneath her feet. She turned to look at Stott, and found him regarding her with such intensity in his eyes that she nearly took a step back.

"Looks like we have a moment to ourselves," he said quietly.

"Yeah," she breathed. She could feel her face flushing under his gaze.

Stott took a small step forward, closing the distance between them and bringing one arm around her waist to pull her close to him as he kissed her.

For the few moments that followed, the events of the day drifted away, and Lynna's only thought was Stott Jacobs and how wonderful it felt to be in his embrace, kissing him.