The wooden entry hall of the Cedar Palace glowed warm with sunlight as the clamor of gathering crowds hummed through the thick cedar doors. Ken adjusted his gold circlet for the fifth time, but his mass of brown curls inevitably swallowed it again. He took a deep breath. None of his birthdays had generated quite this much fervor before, and Giftings happened every day without any attention beyond those involved. But the Gifting of the Crown Prince of Meriveria? Giver forbid anyone should miss it. As if the ceremony weren’t daunting enough without everyone watching.
Lia slipped her hand in his, the familiar gesture calming him. He’d never been more thankful to share a birthday with his friend.
“Are you as nervous as I am?” Ken asked.
“A little. I couldn’t wait to turn twelve until I woke up this morning, and…”
He nodded. “I just wish I knew which Gift I’ll get.”
She scoffed. “I think that’s the point of the ceremony.”
“I know, but most people can guess.”
“And your guess is?”
Ken rubbed his chin. “Maybe Speech? Or Strength?”
Lia bit back a laugh. “Speech I could see, and it’d be useful to speak any language for diplomacy, but Strength?” She snorted.
“What’s so funny about Strength?” He exaggerated his indignation.
“Please. Every boy thinks he’ll get Strength. What would you do with it anyway? You have servants to lift everything, and it’s so common that half the palace guard has it.”
She had a point. Gifts were mysterious but not random. They served a purpose or enhanced an affinity. He didn’t need Strength, and his natural physical prowess—though not embarrassing—was unimpressive.
Ken glanced backward, where Lia’s parents stood smiling encouragingly. His own family was likely waiting to make a grand entrance.
“Any other guesses?” Lia asked.
He shrugged. “That’s all I had. What about yours?”
She picked at the skirt of her sleeveless salmon dress as she thought for a moment, brushing its yellow lace hem against the toe of his deerskin boot. “Maybe Hearing, like my mother? What do you think?”
“I’ll be shocked if it’s not Memory. Only the royal librarian spends more time poring over books than you do.”
Lia rolled her eyes. “I take a book on one picnic—”
“Or three.”
She held up a finger and opened her mouth, then quickly closed it. Her pale cheeks turned the same color as her dress.
A drum banged five times.
By the time the last beat sounded, Lia had dropped Ken’s hand and moved into a deep curtsy several feet away from him.
Father and Mother entered from the South Wing, dressed in full regalia. Pearls and embossed pines studded their gold crowns. Mother’s gown matched Father’s and Ken’s shirts, the indigo satin embroidered with gold flourishes. Somewhere in the palace, Conora was wearing a smaller version of the same gown, but younger siblings weren’t permitted into the ceremony—not even royal ones. His parents paused on their way to the doors just long enough for Ken to bob a short bow and fall into step behind them.
Louder drums boomed outside, and the hum of the crowd subsided as the doors swung open. Hundreds of people had packed onto the royal islet, most of them dressed in the blue and gray of old Elgatha. The herald hovered above the doorstep on enormous amber feathered wings. With his brown hair and gray uniform, he looked like a hawk surveying the turbulent sea of subjects. He lifted a large pine megaphone to his face and proclaimed, “Presenting His Majesty, King Gonfrid of Meriveria; Her Majesty, Queen Melaine; and His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Kennard.”
Ken followed his parents down a path formed by guards, sending a ripple through the crowd as people bowed low before their approach and rose with their passing. Lia and her parents trailed several yards behind, maintaining their distance even as Father stopped at the western tip of the islet, in front of the Wise Women’s Lodge.
The log-built structure rose two-stories high and was capped with a gambrel roof. Intricate but weathered carvings covered the door. Father stepped aside, and Ken walked past him to knock.
A woman answered, clad in a bright red tunic, skirt, and belt. Crimson ribbons wove through the thick black braid circling her cheery, round face. She beckoned them in and motioned to a half-ring of six chairs behind her. “Welcome. Please, do sit down.”
Sunlight filled the large room, illuminating gauzy drapery of every color that covered the walls. In the middle, a striped wood table held an open book and a quill. In the back, a white door marked what he knew from a previous visit to be the wise women’s private library, based on its other door outside, and a set of stairs led up to what had to be living quarters.
Ken chose a center chair and waited as Lia and her parents filed in. She stood warily in front of the seat beside him, no doubt prepared to move if Father objected.
The wise woman closed the door. “Please, sit, dear. I have enough chairs for you and your parents.”
Lia obeyed, and their parents took their seats as well.
“Welcome, Crown Prince Kennard. Welcome, Odelia DiOrto. Happy birthday to you both. I am Sister Rose, and I will be inducing your Gifts today.”
She was strangely chipper for such an important occasion. Given the mystery around it, Ken had expected more pomp, a dark and serious tone of voice—perhaps even some chanting. Everyone else looked equally confused.
“Is this your first Gifting ceremony?” Father asked brusquely.
Sister Rose smiled. “Oh, no. Not at all. I’ve been in the order for many years.”
“Then surely you know better than to have closed the door before everyone has arrived.”
She scanned the group before her and nodded. “Everyone is accounted for.”
Father scowled. “They cannot have been the only two born that day. Was there a string of children’s deaths that I was not informed of?”
“No, Your Majesty, there was not. I admit it’s unusual to have such a small number, but life’s often unusual.” She leaned back and rested a finger on her chin. “Now, this is a fascinating arrangement. I wonder… Kennard and Odelia, please follow me. The rest of you may wait here.”
Mother huffed. “This is not—”
Sister Rose waved her off. “Every ceremony is different.”
It was common knowledge that wise women bowed only to the Giver, but this was crazy.
In stunned silence, Ken and Lia followed her to a corner of the room. Sister Rose drew back a leafy-green curtain, revealing a tiny room with a brazier in the center. She closed a door behind the curtain and sighed. “Much better. They’d continue interrupting forever if I let them. You appear to have a question, Odelia?”
Lia shook her head.
Sister Rose put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right to ask real questions. I only object to interrogation.”
“What did you mean by ‘a fascinating arrangement’?”
“When both parents attend, children usually sit between them. You sat next to one another. That happens on occasion with children born in the same village, but the prince was born here in Meria, while you were born in Iverish, on the other side of the kingdom.”
“So? Her parents were hired into the palace three years ago,” Ken said.
Sister Rose’s eyes lit up. “Ah, yes. Abhrenic. Seers do love to meddle. I wonder if he did it on purpose.” She rubbed her hands together, then held them out to Ken, palms up.
He hesitated. Weren’t his parents supposed to witness the Gifting?
She smiled and whispered, “Don’t worry. This won’t induce your Gift.”
As he took her hands, her smile dropped into a pensive, lingering stare.
“Interesting,” she said.
Ken laughed nervously. “Interesting? That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”
“I must maintain some mystery.” She winked, then turned to Lia. “Your turn.” She held onto Lia’s hands for longer than his, then cocked her head. Maintaining her hold on one hand, Sister Rose reached out to Ken again. “Together now.”
Lia asked the question weighing on his mind: “Is this…normal?”
“Yes and no. Some people are easier to understand than others. I like to see how everyone fits together, though the circle is usually much larger.”
Still waiting, Sister Rose wiggled her fingers at Ken. He clasped hands with both her and Lia, and Sister Rose stared somewhere between them for a long while.
“I have what I need now.” Sister Rose smiled and dropped their hands.
“Will you tell us what you learned?” Lia asked.
Sister Rose shook her head. “You know I cannot. Like your father, I must be careful with how much I reveal, but I glean so much more than just your future, and I must take that much more care with it.”
“So you’ve chosen our Gifts?” Ken asked.
“I don’t choose them. I find them.”
He leaned to Lia and whispered, “There’s a difference?”
“Yes,” Sister Rose said, “one gives me far too much credit—or blame, depending on your view of Gifts. Come along. Your parents have waited long enough.”
Back in the main room, Father and Mother glared at Sister Rose as Ken and Lia returned to their seats. The wise woman circled them to stand behind Ken’s chair.
“Crown Prince Kennard of Meriveria, are you ready to receive your Gift?”
Ken gripped the edge of his seat. “I am.”
She placed her fingertips on his temples. “Great Giver, please guide my hand. Use me as your conduit to bestow your child with your Gift.”
Ken closed his eyes. All the air rushed out of his lungs. Electricity filled his body. Images flashed by, faster than he could comprehend them. Sister Rose lifted her hands, and the images stopped. Ken opened his eyes and gasped loudly. The electricity didn’t stop at once, but settled in his face and hands, ending at his fingers and lips, until it faded away.
“Healing,” she said. After a moment’s pause, she stepped behind Lia’s chair.
In a snap, Father took on the form of a wolf, his pewter fur raised. “Try again,” he snarled, his voice still human but with a feral edge.
“My apologies, Your Majesty, but I cannot. Threats will not change that.”
Mother stood up. “This is a mistake!”
“It is not,” Sister Rose said firmly. “Your son has been given the Gift of Healing. I can neither remove it nor give him another. One can only receive the Gift meant for them.”
“But he is—”
“I am well aware of who he is and who he will be.” Something in Sister Rose’s tone of voice implied she was speaking of more than his future throne. “But I cannot change the laws of Gifts. You have no further business here, so if you cannot be silent, I must ask you to leave.”
Mother sat, and Father morphed back into a man, smoothing his wavy, dark brunet hair back into place. What had raised their ire to begin with? Healing was one of the rarest Gifts. Shouldn’t they have been proud?
Sister Rose cleared her throat. “Odelia DiOrto, are you ready to receive your Gift?”
“I am.”
She placed her fingertips on Lia’s temples. “Great Giver, please guide my hand. Use me as your conduit to bestow your child with your Gift.”
Lia closed her eyes and exhaled. She sat stone still as long as Sister Rose kept her hands in place. Just when Ken began to fear Lia might never breathe again, Sister Rose lifted her hands away.
“Healing,” she said again.
For the first time, Lia’s father spoke up. “I thought Healing was rare.” Abhenric looked more confused than angry.
“It is the rarest,” Sister Rose said, working her way to the table in the center of the room.
“Then how can we both have it?” Ken asked.
“If you were strangers, you could call it an unlikely coincidence. However, you are not, and I find that there are no coincidences where Gifts are concerned.” She picked up the quill and wrote a few lines in the record book. Then she strode to the front door and said, “Farewell. Enjoy your Gifts, and remember, they are called such for a reason.”
As she opened it, the crowd outside cheered. Father growled, then composed himself into a false grin and motioned for Mother to smile as well. He pressed Ken toward the door. Once his family was outside, Father raised his hands. The drums banged, and the herald swooped down to speak with Father for a moment. When the drumming stopped, the crowd fell still and silent, and the herald soared back into the air.
“His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Kennard has received the Gift of Healing!”
There were spatters of applause here and there. Whispers hissed like lapping waves on the shore.
The herald cleared his throat, then repeated, “His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Kennard has received the rare Gift of Healing!”
This finally elicited the expected cheers and clapping. Ken waved to the people as he and his family returned to the Cedar Palace. Behind them, people filled in the path of the retreating guards.
Ken sighed. Poor Lia would have to push her way through to come home. Was she as confused as he was? He needed to talk to her.
As soon as the palace doors closed, Father turned to the guards and dropped his smile. “Have Abhenric DiOrto and his daughter brought to me the minute they set foot in here. Melaine, delay the feast, then talk to Conora about what’s happened. Kennard, you’re coming with me.”
Father led Ken to his study, his shoulders tight, like a stalking cougar—which he became somewhere along the way. He always used Transformation more heavily when he was emotional. He could choose any familiar animal with fur, though he favored large carnivores.
“Close the door, Son. I’m going to need to implement some new rules for you.”
“Am I in trouble?” Ken asked. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, not you. This is that idiot wise woman’s fault.”
“I don’t think a wise woman can be an idiot.” It slipped out before Ken could stop himself.
Father glared. “I’m not in the mood for your foolery. Thanks to her, I need to protect you now.”
“Protect me from what?”
Father shrank back into a man, his eyes sad. “Yourself.”
“Wha—” Ken furrowed his eyebrows. “What does that mean?”
Father ran a hand over his face. “There’s a reason you’ve never met a Healer before.”
“Because they’re so rare?”
“So are Seers, but I’ve still always found one to work for me. Healers…” He cleared his throat. “It’s a powerful Gift. It’s said that at peak mastery, Healers can pull people from their deathbeds.”
“But I thought you wanted me to be powerful. You’re always pushing me to be stronger.”
Father shook his head. “Not this kind of power. You know that all Gifts come at a cost.”
Ken nodded.
“Well, the more powerful the Gift, the steeper its cost is. For even a hint of power over life and death, you will pay dearly. Healers don’t live long lives.”
Ken staggered back a step. His Gift would kill him? That couldn’t be right. It sounded more like a curse. “What exactly is the cost?”
“From now on, every injury and illness you ever have will heal slower.”
Ken shrugged. “That doesn’t sound as dire as you’re making it out to be.”
“If you cut yourself, you can bleed to death in the extra time it takes your body to heal. And illnesses will only get worse if you cannot fight them quickly. Most Healers die after catching the same ailment they’ve rid someone else of.”
“But I’ll get to serve our people, right? Think of all the people I can help now.”
“Within rules.”
“What rules?”
Father became a grizzly bear, towering over him. “No more fight training, not even with wooden weapons. Rough sport is out of the question as well. It’s all too dangerous now.”
Ken sank into a chair. So much for fun, but he couldn’t object to protecting his own life.
“As for Healing, you can help the injured, but not the sick. If someone so much as sneezes, you are not to go near them.”
“You’re banning me from using my Gift? Why even have one if I can’t use the good part?”
A knock sounded on the door.
“You will have to wait while I deal with your friend.”
Father returned to human form to open the door. Abhenric and Lia entered and bowed.
“You requested us, Your Majesty?”
“Yes.” Father squinted at Abhenric. “Give me one reason not to dismiss you from service right now.”
Abhenric’s pale blue eyes widened before he smiled up at Father. “Certainly, if Your Majesty will tell me what offense I am to be dismissed for.”
“Incompetence, for one. How did you not See this?”
“I’m not a wise woman. Visions revealing Gifts are blocked from me. They create blank spots in the future.”
Father sneered. “So you’ve claimed before. How do I know this isn’t some plan on your part?”
Abhenric looked at Ken as if to ask, Do you know what he’s talking about?
Ken shook his head and shrugged. He couldn’t make anything of Father’s current paranoia.
“You encouraged your daughter to befriend the prince,” Father continued, “so she would influence his Gift. She pulled him away from what was meant to be his to weaken him.”
Abhenric ran his hand through his short sandy hair. “With all due respect, even if I were capable of predicting Gifts, that would be a terrible plan for me to carry out. What would I stand to gain?” He gestured to Lia. “My own daughter received Healing as well.”
“The wise woman said it wasn’t a coincidence.”
“That doesn’t mean I planned it. Wise women answer to the Giver himself. Perhaps you could pray for guidance.”
“Perhaps you could tell me, Seer. Nothing should block your vision now.”
“I don’t want to know,” Ken said quietly.
All eyes turned to him.
His confidence rose a little higher as he stood up. “It’s my future you’re discussing. Knowing can change it, and if there really is a grand plan for it, I don’t want to ruin it by knowing.”
Abhenric gave him a proud smile. Ken often wished Abhenric was his father instead, and in that moment, remembering the lessons he had taught him about the future, he could almost imagine he was.
“Fine,” Father said. “You may keep your position for now, but your daughter will keep her distance from both Prince Kennard and Princess Conora from now on.”
Lia gasped.
“No!” Ken shouted.
Father scowled.
Abhenric put a hand up to Ken and Lia. “If I may? I believe it is in the prince’s best interest that you reconsider.”
“Really? In his best interest?”
“Yes. They can learn from each other’s mistakes and discoveries. Unless you know of someone else who shares their Gift, only she can do this with him.”
Father jabbed his finger at Abhenric. “So this was your plan all along.”
Abhenric maintained his usual calm demeanor. “Not at all. I am simply accepting a situation that we cannot change and offering the best method I can think of to cope with it.”
Father studied Abhenric for a long while, then turned to Lia. “You may study side by side with the prince, girl, but never think that makes you his equal. You are in this palace at my sufferance, and should you forget your place, you will no longer be welcome here.”
Lia curtsied and said meekly, “Yes, thank you, Your Majesty.”
Father waved his hand toward the door. “You are all dismissed.”
Lia and Abhenric bowed and left.
“You didn’t need to attack them,” Ken said softly. “They’re good people.”
Father sighed wearily. “Think what you will, Son, but I do what I must to protect what’s mine. Someday, you will too.”
In the palace library, Odelia found Kennard sitting next to an unlit fireplace. He gazed longingly out the window, where sunlight danced on pink and purple rhododendrons. Doubtless, he was already planning a picnic to take advantage of the short summer.
She took the chair next to him. “Planning a whole feast or just a light snack?”
“Neither,” he said flatly.
She waited for him to crack a joke or at least look her direction, but he didn’t move. Odelia tried again. “Have you met the new tutor yet?”
“No.”
“You’re quiet this morning. Are you okay?”
Kennard sighed. “I didn’t think Father would implement the rules so quickly. It’s been one day, and he’s already had everything he considers dangerous removed from my room. I barely convinced him to let me keep the staff your father carved for me by telling him it was for walking, not fighting. Apparently, hikes might be forbidden as well. With his rules, I’m more likely to die from lack of movement than injury.”
She didn’t like this new Kennard. He was usually the optimist. She offered a helpful smile. “You could take up more reading to stave off the boredom.”
He put a hand on her shoulder and gasped in mock horror. “Oh, but I might get a paper cut!”
Odelia gave him a real smile this time. “Well, there I go, being a bad influence again.”
A tall woman in a short black dress approached the table, holding an enormous book. Her deep auburn hair coiled around her head in a continuous braid, and a dark tan set off her blue eyes. “Prince Kennard?” she asked.
“Yes?”
She curtsied. “Pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. My name is Bertina Schuler, and I will be tutoring you on the use of your Gift. This is Odelia DiOrto, I presume.” She dropped her large tome on the table with a thud and began flipping through it. “The king has informed me of the rules he’s given you. I must admit, it’s fascinating to work with two Healers.”
“Fascinating for you, at least,” Kennard said. How quickly the dark cloud returned.
“I know things seem bleak right now, but they aren’t as bad as they look,” Bertina said.
“To hear my father tell it, we’re doomed.”
Bertina folded her hands in front of her. “While it’s true that Healing cuts most people’s lives short, you are not most people. Few receive the kind of training I’m going to give you. For that, you should consider yourself blessed. Now, do you have any questions before we begin?”
“What is your Gift?” Odelia asked. If Kennard was determined to be dour, she could be polite for both of them.
“Memory. Do you know how that works?”
“You can never forget anything,” Odelia said.
Bertina smiled. “Correct. I’ve compiled every text currently written about Gifts into this book, and since I’ve read all the texts, I remember everything contained within. I’ll admit the section on Healing is woefully thin, but that can’t be helped.”
“Where are you from?” Kennard asked, his head cocked like a puppy.
“Ormoint,” she said quickly.
He puzzled for a moment.
He wouldn’t dare ask, would he? Yes, he would.
“But—”
Odelia elbowed him and shook her head. “Don’t be rude,” she whispered.
Ormoint had been an Elgathan border town before the formation of Meriveria. Vistans and Elgathans mixed more frequently in such towns. Bertina had the height and complexion of an Elgathan like Kennard but the bright hair and light eyes of a Vistan like Odelia. Most people from border towns tried to pass for Elgathan if they could, naturally, but Bertina didn’t have that luxury.
Kennard was curious about Vistans, but other than Odelia and her family, he had little interaction with them. The first time they met, three years before, he’d blurted out that her eyes were strange because he’d never seen green ones before. The question he’d almost asked was nowhere near as rude, but she made a mental note to speak to him about it later.
“On second thought, let’s just get started, shall we?” Bertina said. “Besides Healing and Memory, there are eighteen other Gifts. Can either of you name them all?”
Odelia grinned. Her parents had taught her all of them. Counting off on her fingers, she recited, “Transformation, Listening, Hearing, Seeing, Far-Sight, Near-Sight, Night-Sight, Water-Breathing, Speech, Animal Speech, Speed, Strength, Invisibility, Flight, Stone-Skin…” What were the other three again? “…Fire…Ice…and—oh, one more. Why can’t I think of it?”
“Allure,” Kennard finished. Of course, he would remember the queen's Gift.
She groaned. “How could I forget Allure?”
“That’s okay. You still did very well. I’d say that happens to everyone, but well…” Bertina chuckled, then turned to Kennard. “Speaking of Allure, I’m sure you know that one well. What can you tell me?”
“Mother has it. It makes her more likable, even when she isn’t trying, and when she does try, it can help her attract or persuade people.” His voice was dry and detached.
Bertina leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially, “Judging by your tone, I’d say it isn’t very effective on you.”
“It doesn’t work on blood.”
Bertina waited for a moment, but he didn’t offer any more.
Odelia had been around the palace long enough to know why he didn’t approve of the subject or wish to speak about it. Between her Gift and her crown, the queen had most of the court wrapped around her finger. The sycophantic displays were unnerving, and the queen was so used to getting her way that she expected Kennard to fall in line with her whims. Fortunately for Odelia’s friendship with him, he rarely agreed with the queen, but the constant struggle had to wear on him.
“My mom has Hearing,” Odelia offered, hoping to give Kennard a reprieve.
Bertina nodded for her to continue.
“Every sound is amplified for her. She can hear a conversation through a wall, but loud noises are painful, so she has to wear earmuffs or earplugs in crowded places.”
“Very good,” Bertina said. “I’ll eventually teach you about how all of the Gifts work, especially the ways they interact with your own, but for now, I’ll teach you Healing. What do you already know?”
“We can Heal other people, but using our Gift will eventually kill us,” Kennard said.
“And?”
Odelia and Kennard shrugged. If they knew more, they wouldn’t have needed her tutelage.
“No wonder you’re so gloomy. That’s a poor explanation. Using Healing won’t kill you unless you attempt to severely overextend your capabilities, which I will teach you to grow.”
Odelia said, “But we sacrifice our bodies’ recovery to Heal others, though, right?”
Bertina shook her head. “That’s a common misconception. You do expend energy when you use your Gift, but in the same way you would with any kind of exertion, like running or lifting a heavy object. Any of those things could just as easily be harmful if you did more than your body was prepared for.”
Odelia smiled. “Well, that’s much better!”
“Then why all the protections?” Kennard asked, annoyed. “Can’t we just rest or eat to restore ourselves?”
“Yes, you can, but the real danger is your permanent weakness—your body’s slow recovery—and that’s not affected by how much you use your Gift.”
Odelia had spoken too soon. At least before, she believed she might have a measure of control.
Bertina continued, “Honestly, it could kill you even if you never Heal anyone—”
Odelia and Kennard turned to each other. His wide-eyed expression perfectly matched the horror that hit her.
“—but you can mitigate the risk by not throwing yourself in harm's way. Most Healers eventually contract an illness they’ve Healed because doing so puts them too close to a contagion to avoid catching it themselves. That combined with their poor recovery is what kills them, not the usage itself.”
“So we could safely Heal anything that isn’t contagious, right?” Odelia asked. “Like a stroke or a miner’s cough?” Maybe they didn’t need to waste their Gift.
“You can, but His Highness is supposed to avoid anyone with a cough, per His Majesty’s orders.”
“My name will do, thank you,” Kennard said coolly. He still wasn’t his chipper self yet, but at least he’d stopped pouting.
Bertina leaned in. “Well, Kennard, did you know that Healing gives you two abilities?”
Kennard perked up. “Really?”
“You don’t just Heal people. You can also sense something called ‘Vitality.’ Put your fingers on the underside of your wrist or side of your neck—anywhere you can feel your pulse.”
Odelia slid two fingers under her jaw. Her heart beat in a steady rhythm. But there was something strange.
“You should be feeling something else as well. That other sensation is your Vitality.”
It was a taut vibration in her fingertips, like a freshly plucked string, but the note went on indefinitely.
“Now that you know what your own feels like, check one another.”
Kennard put two tentative fingers on Odelia’s wrist. “Ah!” He wrinkled his nose. “It feels weird.”
Must everything about her be weird to him? Odelia scowled back at him and tried his wrist. “Oh! You’re right. It does.” The vibration felt different yet familiar, like two instruments playing the same note. She felt her own again, and the Vitality felt the same as the first time.
“You can try this on anyone with a pulse,” Bertina said. “It takes no extra energy and endangers no one, so practice it as much as you can. The more Vitalities you become familiar with, the better you will understand what a normal one feels like.”
“But why?” Odelia asked. “What does it mean?”
“The strength of someone’s Vitality will tell you if they need Healing, how much they need, and most importantly, if you can do so safely. That’s why we’re starting with Vitality. It also brings me to a few rules I have.”
Kennard groaned.
Bertina smiled. “My rules are only temporary.”
“What are they?” Odelia asked.
Bertina held up one finger. “Rule number one: never Heal someone before you’ve checked their Vitality and understand what it means. That means that neither of you is ready to Heal at all yet, but we’ll get there soon.” She raised a second finger. “Rule number two: no Healing each other. With this arrangement and the king’s warnings, that would be inappropriate. You may check each other’s Vitality, but no Healing.”
“Oh, good.” Kennard plastered on a sardonic smile. “The list of people I can’t Heal just keeps growing.”
“The first rule makes sense,” Odelia said, “but why the second one? Also, what happens if we break a rule?”
“For one, we don’t know what will happen with two Healers. Sometimes Gifts can amplify each other. For instance, Fire and Ice have killed their users when combined.”
Odelia shuddered. Ice absorbed heat, and Fire expelled it. Amplified, heat could transfer from the Fire user to the Ice user at fatal speed.
“But those are opposites. We have the same Gift,” Kennard said.
“True, but we still can’t be sure what would happen. And there’s another reason. Allow me to demonstrate.” Bertina leaned against the table and picked up her huge book with one hand, raising it above her head. She took a deep breath. The book slammed back down onto her other hand. Bertina let out a harsh grunt.
Odelia stifled a scream and jumped out of her chair.
Kennard stood up. “What is wrong with you?”
“I told you, a demonstration is needed.” Bertina winced and hugged her hand to her chest. “Odelia, you’re going to Heal my hand. Kennard, you need to stand behind her in case she faints.”
“I’m not squeamish,” Odelia said.
“I wasn’t implying that you were. It’d be fairer to make the prince do the Healing, but I’m afraid he would squish you. Now, come here, quickly, please.”
Odelia faced Bertina with Kennard at her back. With two fingers, she felt the underside of Bertina’s wrist on her good arm. The Vitality throbbed now. It wasn’t a large change—hardly more than the difference between two people—but a definite change nonetheless.
Bertina held out her broken hand at Odelia’s eye level, palm down and shaking. The fingers bent at sickening angles. “I need you to kiss my hand,” she said through gritted teeth.
Odelia grimaced. “Seriously? That’s how it works? This must be a joke.”
Bertina glared. “I just damaged my hand. Do you honestly think I would joke about that?”
Steeling herself, Odelia put a gentle hand under Bertina’s to steady it. She couldn’t look at the mangled fingers and focused on the back of the palm instead. A tiny jolt of power passed through her as she brushed her lips against it. Odelia let go, and Bertina’s fingers were straight again.
“Hey,” Odelia said, her own voice sounding far away, “it worked. I did—”
“Lia!” Kennard wrapped his arms around her as the world faded to black.