Twice Broken

Saga woke screaming, sitting straight up and clutching her scarred eye. It took her a moment to realize the pain was gone, but she still half-expected to see blood when she pulled her hands away. She forced herself to breathe deeply, steadying herself. It was just a dream, only a dream.

But why had it felt so much more real this time? And what was with those voices? She’d had this nightmare regularly since she was a child, but until now it had always remained the same. She shook her head to clear it, immediately regretting the motion when it throbbed in pain.

It was morning, with the sun resting well above the western horizon. That was strange, they were usually up at dawn when traveling. “Dapper?” She croaked, her throat sore. Had she been screaming in her sleep, as well? Or had she just not recovered from the past couple of days?

The beatweaver was on her lap almost immediately, staring up at her worriedly. He tapped at her leg, and she smiled despite the pain. “I’m fine, I’m sorry. Just needed to make sure you were here.”

He tilted his head in confusion, though really he was just tilting his body to simulate the gesture, but she didn’t answer his unspoken question. Instead, she grabbed her canteen and brought it to her lips, drinking deeply. She focused on the sensation of the water flowing down her throat, into her stomach, using it to center herself further. Finally, when she’d replaced the stopper, she Healed herself once more.

Casting Heal with a headache was risky. If the headache was caused by using too much magic, it could actually make the problem worse. If it was due to injury, illness, or extreme stress, though, it would help the pain. It was a calculated risk, and it paid off, and the pounding at the back of her skull finally faded. She realized suddenly that she’d taken a great risk by going to sleep without Healing first. If Master Dorrin’s attack had caused brain damage, she might not have woken up again.

At the thought of her mentor, she looked across the long-dead campfire at his bedroll. There he was, his back to her, just as she’d last seen him. With a sigh, she crawled out of her bedroll and stretched before walking over to the sleeping man. She nudged him with her foot, more gently than when he’d done the same to her. “Master Dorrin? We’ve slept in, we need to get moving.”

He didn’t answer, and she rolled her eyes. He was getting older, and the past few days had surely been as tiresome to him as they had been to her. She decided to let him sleep a little longer as she brought the fire back to life with magic. Thankfully, this spell didn’t blow up on her, though small ones rarely did. She fed the rekindled flame with some of the leftover brush from last night and set about making some morning tea. They still had travel rations for breakfast, but she figured the tea would help invigorate her mentor for the day’s walk.

When it was done, she pour a mug and approached him again. “Master, it’s time to get up. I’ve made tea.” Still no response. Frowning, she knelt and reached out to gently shake him. He still didn’t respond, though something seemed off about the way his body moved when she shook him. Her heart began to beat faster, and, shaking, she pressed a hand to the side of his cheek.

He was cold.

She dropped the mug of hot tea as she jerked away, her eyes wide. “Nonono…” Tears began to form, but she forced them away. She had to be imagining it. It was a cold night, and his head was uncovered. Of course he was cold. Any second now he’d wake up, complain about the spilled tea, and grumble his way around packing up his supplies. He was just a heavy sleeper, all she needed to do was shake him more, call to him more loudly.

Then why didn’t he wake up when you screamed?

She hesitated, then slowly reached out, grabbed his arm, and pulled him onto his back. His body resisted the motion, heavy as it was, but it finally rolled over stiffly. The side he’d been laying on looked like one giant bruise, and his blue lips were slightly open.

He wasn’t breathing, and his lifeless, half-closed eyes stared up at the sun.

Saga stared at him, in shocked denial of what she saw. This man, who’d always been so full of life, even when he was at his worst, was just…gone? No, that couldn’t be right. He was fine last night, they were going to return to the city, get him a healer for his madness. How could this happen?

Heal him. She knew she had to try, just as well as she knew that it was too late. She had to try. She placed her hands on his chest, shaping her Will into the spell and sending it into him. She didn’t just cast the spell, she channeled it. She focused, her mind pushing the magic through him in a steady stream, willing him to get better, to wake up, to smile, to frown, to anything !

Seconds went by, minutes. There was no change. She knew she needed to stop, but she couldn’t allow herself to do so. Her head pounded; this was the longest she’d ever channeled a single spell, and she was already growing fatigued. Desperately, she fought through the pain, moving her hands to his cold cheeks and pushing again.

Come on…come on…!

Still, nothing happened. Dapper nudged her urgently, but she didn’t stop to translate his taps. She needed to focus, needed to save him! She moved her hands once more, to the side of his head this time, and tried one more time. It had to work! It had to! She wouldn’t let him die like this, not when the end was in sight, not when they were so close to people, to help!

She cried out, feeling a spike of pain shoot between her eyes and into her pain. She collapsed to the side of him, the headache threatening to beat her senseless if she didn’t stop trying to use magic.

Please…help…

She didn’t know how long she laid there, staring at the dead man next to her with tear-filled eyes, but the sun was noticeably higher when a voice brought her back to her senses.

“Over there!” The voice was familiar, masculine. Amos?

She groaned, trying to sit up, but her body wouldn’t respond. What was going on? A backlit figure with blond hair appeared over her, blocking the sun from her eyes. It was Pell. She couldn’t quite make out his face in the shadow of his hair, but his horns were unmistakable. “Help him,” Saga whispered, “please.”

Pell looked over at where she knew Master Dorrin’s body lay, and she heard other voices, felt the presence of other people moving around them. He listened to someone speak, though she couldn’t make out the words through the haze of pain, then shook his head before turning back to her. She felt his hands press to the sides of her head, and a moment later the spike of pain fled before a wave of comforting warmth.

He helped her sit up, keeping a steadying hand on her shoulder. “How do you feel?” His voice was as calm as ever, but she saw the anxiety and concern in his eyes.

“I couldn’t heal him,” Saga said numbly. “I gave it everything I had. I did my best. I couldn’t do it.” She refused to look to the side. She could hear Amos and Nell speaking in low tones. Someone was crying.

Gem. Angels above, what must she think?

“You almost killed yourself trying,” Pell said, catching her eyes. “What were you thinking?”

“I had to try.”

“He’s been,” he paused, hesitating on the word they both knew was there, “ gone for a few hours at least. There’s no coming back from that, Saga.”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she looked down at her lap. When had Dapper come back? Had he ever left? She vaguely recalled him being gone when she’d come to just now, but she’d been distracted. The beatweaver was tapping away at her leg. It wasn’t a message, not this time. He simply kept a beat, calming, an old trick of his for trying to help her feel better. She obliged him, closing her eyes and focusing on the rhythm.

“You!”

The single angry word shocked Saga out of her reverie. She looked to the side, despite herself, and saw Gem there, cradling her father against her chest. Her cheeks were tear-streaked and flushed, and her eyes were hot with rage. “What did you do to him!?”

“I didn’t—“ Saga began, but Gem wasn’t waiting for an answer. In one smooth motion, she’d dropped her father’s head from her lap and lunged over him at Saga, hands reaching for her and crackling with electricity. Saga threw herself backward by reflex, but the effort was wasted; Pell and Nell had moved to intercept her. Gem was strong, like any other drake, but she was only one drake versus two. Even Nell was a match for her strength despite the platinum’s small build. With Pell assisting, Gem was quickly restrained.

"Gem," Amos began.

She ignored him, screaming her defiance and rage at Saga. “This is your fault! How did this happen!? How could you let him die!?”

“Gemma.”

“I’m going to—!”

“ Chase! ” Amos bellowed, and everyone else present, even the platinum twins, froze. Gem blinked, as if suddenly remembering herself, then lowered her eyes in shame. Saga could practically feel the anger still radiating off of her, though. Her heart broke for the second time that morning, seeing the way Gem had looked at her.

Once Amos saw he had everyone’s attention, he spoke softly. “Gemma Chase, you dishonor your father by acting this way. We know nothing of what happened, what these two went through the past two days.” His eyes met Saga’s, and she realized he was almost as distraught as Gem was, but he hid it well. “Miss Rose, I trust you can explain what happened here?”

For once, Saga didn’t have the heart to banter about names. “I…I don’t know what happened to him, not here.” She felt numb, hollow, and a part of her brain knew she was in shock, even after being healed. Heal spells only fixed physical injures, not emotional ones. “I can tell you what we’ve been up to. Maybe you’ll know something I don’t.”

Amos searched her eyes for a moment, stroking his beard, then nodded. “That will have to do. Gemma?”

The twins had released her, but she hadn’t budged since he’d first addressed her. She looked up now, slowly, avoiding looking at Saga. “Yes, sir?”

“Run back to camp. You’re the fastest one here. Fetch the guards, alert them that we need Dorrin taken back to the City.”

Gem gave Saga a pointed look, then looked back at Amos. “Why not send her? Let me carry him.”

Amos frowned. “Because we need her to explain to us what happened. I promise I’ll tell you what’s going on as soon as I know, but until you’ve cooled off, I need to be certain you won’t try anything stupid.”

Gem opened her mouth to argue, then seemed to think better of it. “Yes, sir.” She stood and, without another word, turned and began to run back to the Crossroads.

Saga watched her go, spotting the telltale blur of a Haste spell speeding her on her way. Once Gem was out of sight, she turned back to Amos, but before she could speak, he fixed her with a withering glare. “Dorrin Chase was a dear friend, young lady. You’d best start talking. I don’t care who you are, if I think you’re lying or hiding something, or if I just don’t like what you have to say…” He trailed off, leaving the threat unspoken.

Saga looked to Pell and Nell for support, but found none. Nell was watching Saga uncertainly, as if wondering if she was a threat, while Pell was stooping over Master Dorrin’s body, preparing to carry him back. Unsure of where to start, she began with a question. “What did you know about Master Dorrin’s work? Did he tell you what we were doing?”

Amos studied her. “He explained to me that you’re still an apprentice.” Nell looked at him, shocked, and even Pell paused to give Saga a considering look. “That this was to be your trial,” Amos continued, “but I also know that he had his own mission to carry out, and that you would be supporting him on that mission to a point. He told me about the disappearing villages, and of course I know about the rumor of bandits blockading Dove’s Landing. I can only assume something went wrong.”

His tone wasn’t accusatory, thankfully, but Saga was fully aware that she was essentially on trial. “Yes, Master Amos.” She explained to him what had happened at the blockade, her condition afterwards—she noted a look of pity from the man, though he didn’t interrupt her—and the events that transpired at the village.

He interrupted her at this point. “You eavesdropped on his conversation with this woman?” Again, his tone wasn’t one of accusation, but she felt her answer was important.

“If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be able to tell you about it now.” Saga said. Another drink of water from her canteen had eased some of her weariness and tension. “I felt…well, I felt like I needed to know. I was sent to investigate that village, and that woman and her crew were burning it down. Can you blame me for wanting answers?”

Amos pondered for a moment, then nodded for her continue. She did, mentioning the survivor Master Dorrin was forced to kill, his erratic behavior that night, the way he seemed fine the next morning, but then attacked her later that afternoon. She ended the story with his apologetic behavior and the events of that morning. She pulled down her collar to show him the bruises, then realized that they’d likely be gone after the healing spells.

“I saw them,” Pell said. He’d cleaned up most of the campsite with his sister, and Master Dorrin’s rested behind him. He nodded his assurance to Amos. “They were faint, but they were there. Looked like they’d been healed once already, but not directly. Lines up with what she said about fixing her headache.” Saga smiled gratefully at him, but he just shrugged and looked at the ground.

Amos closed his eyes, considering. “Give me the letter.”

“Beg pardon?” Saga’s hand went to her pouch, where she’d kept it safely stored since the night before.

“Give me the letter he intended for Headmaster Tale. Then I’ll know for sure if you’re telling the truth.”

She hesitated. “I was told it was for his eyes only, no one else’s.”

“How am I to be sure this isn’t simply a ploy for you to escape into the City!?” Amos thundered, his eyes flying open, and Saga flinched. Rather than intimidate her into obedience, though, somehow it only bolstered her.

“I will not. You can escort me to the City if you feel the need, but you can find out what it says from my…Headmaster.” She kicked herself mentally, trying to keep her face neutral. She’d almost let her true identity slip. Gem knew, sure, but there was no guarantee these people knew.

Amos watched her for a moment longer, then sighed. “I’m on your side, Saga. Dorrin told me who your grandfather is.” He hesitated. “Please, let me read the letter. If it clears your story, you’ll have my full support. I don’t know everything about what Dorrin’s been investigating, that’s been between him and the Headmaster, but we all have the same job.”

Saga tilted her head, puzzled at the obvious statement. “Right, you’re all Bards. What does that have to do with this?”

Pell winced, and Nell rolled her eyes before giving Amos a long-suffering look. Amos didn’t miss the looks the others gave him, and he sighed again. “He didn’t tell you what’s going on, did he?” When Saga shook her head, he continued. “I’m not at the liberty to say. That’s between you, your grandfather, and that letter. What I can do is see to it that you meet with him as a free woman, and not a prisoner.”

Saga thought seriously about his offer. She felt that she was at a crossroads here. She could hold to her convictions, follow the orders she was given, and risk imprisonment or death at the hands of a vigilante. On the other hand, she could follow her instincts, and do what she thought needed to be done to complete the task she was given. Surely Master Dorrin would have understood if she needed to share the letter with someone else in a position of authority, especially a friend like Amos?

She made up her mind, drew out the letter, and handed it to the old guitarist. “Don’t tell me what it says,” she said. “I’ll leave that to the Headmaster, like Master Dorrin intended.”

Amos nodded and accepted the letter from her. To her surprise, he took one look at the letter’s seal and widened his eyes. “I see,” he muttered, then handed it back to her. “I believe you.”

Saga hesitantly accepted it back, looking at the seal herself for the first time in daylight hours. It was gold, depicting a stylized key in the shape of a “K”—the emblem of the Keepers’ Academy—with a simple red ring surrounding it. The red ring was apparently fixed after the wax had dried, making the entire thing resemble a coin or medallion. Confused, she put the letter back in her pouch. “I don’t understand. Seeing the Academy’s seal is enough to make you trust me?”

“There are some things in our line of work you don’t do, Miss Rose. One of the easiest to remember is this: no one but the Headmaster breaks the red ring of death.”