up then. As he did, Alena realized that she hadn’t sensed him shaping, but there was no question that he was. Traces of color had returned to Wyath’s face. He was still cool and pale, but his blood flowed with a little more force than it had before.
The trick of masking shapings was not unique to those who trained in the barracks, but she hadn’t met anyone within Atenas who managed to do so with such skill. She couldn’t detect a thing as he worked, hiding his shaping with such precision that he might as well have been sitting in a garden.
“Of course it matters,” Oliver snapped. “The first shaping is the most important. If you can’t steady the body, there might not be anything that can be done. Depending on what you did, I might have to remove the shaping, but that runs the risk of him bleeding out completely. He’s far enough gone that he might not survive that.”
“Can you help him?” Eldridge said.
Oliver opened his mouth but closed it at Eldridge’s intense stare. “Damn it,” he whispered. “I will try, but I can’t do it alone, and I’m not sure he’s willing to help. There’s a part of him that doesn’t accept what he can do.”
Alena was frowning, wondering who Oliver meant, when she realized they weren’t alone in his room.
She stood and took a step back and saw the shadow looming along the far wall, watching them. Flickering light from the hearth played across his face, casting it in darkness, but not enough to mask the anger on Jasn Volth’s face.
“Will you be a part of this?” Oliver asked. The water shaper didn’t look over, but Alena knew the question was intended for Jasn.
He hesitated long enough that Alena feared he wouldn’t answer. She didn’t know why the greatest healer in Ter wanted Jasn to help, but she sensed that an important question was asked, even if she didn’t know quite what it meant.
Jasn stepped forward, his eyes lowering to Wyath, and sighed. “I will help.”
9
Jasn
Bishop Eldridge reports that communication with the elementals grants incredible strength, exceeding that of shaping alone. He has not observed whether it exceeds summoning, or that of the rune traps, or the other ways of reaching the power of the elements.
—Lren Atunal, Cardinal of the College of Scholars
A s Jasn stepped out from the shadows, he wondered what he was doing, but someone needed help. Not only someone, but Wyath. The old man had helped him often enough since he came to the barracks, even if Jasn didn’t know everything that took place there.
“How did it happen this time?” he asked. The last time Wyath had been injured, the draasin had attacked, catching him in the stomach. Jasn had healed it as well as he could, at least as well as he had been willing to before bringing him to Cheneth.
Alena met his eyes and looked down. Damn, but she was lovely, even sweating and covered in Wyath’s blood.
He shoved the thought aside. This was the woman responsible for Katya’s death. No, not her death, not if what Oliver said was true, but at least responsible for the fact that she was missing. Did he dare believe that she still lived? Could he not?
“Training accident,” Eldridge said, repeating the phrase Alena had used.
Jasn didn’t know the thin scholar well, but when he’d gone with him to find Alena, there was no doubting his skill. Even as a wind shaper, he was impressively capable.
“What kind of training accident?” Jasn asked.
Oliver frowned, and Jasn ignored him. Did it matter if his old mentor knew what took place in the barracks? From the sound of it, he and Eldridge knew each other, even if Jasn didn’t know how.
“The kind that ends with him injured,” Eldridge said. “Now. Are you going to heal him or keep talking?”
“Oliver—”
“Doesn’t have the same capacity when it comes to this,” Oliver said.
Jasn looked over to him and frowned. “You’re the greatest healer in Ter.”
Oliver smiled and shook his head. “Perhaps I
C. J. Cherryh
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