Chapter 24
“The horse won’t let you fall off,” the rider assured me, speaking in a voice that sounded like rusty hinges, a voice I recognized.
Master Shamsky smelled like he still hadn’t had a bath or brushed his teeth since I rescued him, but I was willing to put up with the stench, considering how bad things would have been for Denny and me if he hadn’t come to our rescue. A few pricks in my side reminded me of Simon and I took a firmer hold of him. For a couple of minutes, I had a great view of my town, but then, suddenly, there was nothing to see. For all I knew, the horse was flying through nothing at all.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To where the dalebark has been readied for you,” answered Master Shamsky.
His breath made me wish I hadn’t asked, and it kept me from asking what good the dalebark would do when all the windmere willow blossoms had been destroyed.
“I think now, you are my friend,” said Denny.
“Yes, I am your friend.”
“Thanks for rescuing me.”
“Thank the horse and thank Master Shamsky.”
“I will.”
It’s hard to talk when you’re riding a flying horse, so we didn’t talk further. Any other time, my ride on the flying horse would have been the time of my life, but I was so worried about finishing my quest, that I was desperate to reach our destination. I only hoped this trip wasn’t going to go for nothing. We suddenly landed in a dark field where the horse galloped faster than the wind, but a pack of wolves breathing fire suddenly appeared at the top of a hill and chased us until the horse flew back into the total darkness. Later, the horse landed on a city street where we could see a skyline as tall as New York’s. Four motorcyclists suddenly appeared close behind us, and that was all we saw of that city. We flickered in and out of several more spaces until finally, a bone-jarring landing told us the horse was on solid ground to stay. We were in a heavy forest and the horse had to slow down because of all the trees. As far as I could tell, nobody was chasing us now. The horse picked its way, apparently knowing where it was going, until it stopped in what looked like the middle of nowhere.
“This is it,” said Master Shamsky.
He slid off the horse and extended a hand to Denny. As soon as Denny was down, he helped me off the horse. Then Master Shamsky pulled on a fern plant, and a door opened.
“In you go, quick.”
Denny and I wasted no time in going through the door. I smelled food cooking and heard the murmuring of tense voices in a room lit only by a few floating lights hither and yon. I didn’t get very far before cries of “Nathaniel!” “Nathaniel!” exploded all over the place.
Maranissa was the first to snare me with her arms and then Mirry got a vice-like grip on me. Pollo and Rosalind flanked me and drew me further into the underground den that looked something like a ski lodge with its rustic furniture, wood floor, and paneled walls. Just about everybody who had helped me on my quest was there, and so were a lot of people I’d never seen before. For all their excitement over my return, they all looked anxious. I looked for Charles, but didn’t see him. That sank my heart 20,000 leagues under the sea.
“Nathaniel! Did you pick your blossom before you disappeared?” asked Masteress Oldham. She was sitting in a rocking chair, looking like a pretty healthy grandmother. Natasha eyed me with that demanding stare of hers. I scratched a few of her feathers, wishing it could make the windmere blossom appear.
“Uh—almost,” I said, my heart sinking deeper yet.
“Are you sure you don’t have the blossom?” Masteress Goldenaro asked. “My informing spell told me in was on the way.”
I stood there hanging my head. The light on my cape clasp was still on, but my quest really was finished after all.
“I had the blossom—and then lost it,” I said, my voice choking.
Groans filled the room and my head drooped even lower.
“Hey!” cried Mirry. “How did Denny get here?”
Denny stood still where he was, and looked at me hesitantly.
“We just rescued him,” I said. “He’s with us now.”
“Are you sure?” asked Maranissa.
Denny looked at me again. Tears were starting to come to his eyes.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I said.
Denny looked like a few tons had just slipped off his back. He shuffled across the floor under the suspicious looks all around him until he stood next to me. Then he reached under his cape and took out the four broken twigs. At the tip of each twig, there grew a small creamy white flower. They were deep purple in the middle with a soft bleeding pink at the edges. Something caught in my throat, and I couldn’t say anything. Only a few people saw what Denny had brought at first, but they started a wave of excited gasps as word got around the room and more people saw the blossoms for themselves. Denny had proved himself in a big way.
“Where should I put them?” asked Denny.
“Right here,” said Lucy, pointing to one of the tables where the capsules I’d brought from the pharmacy were lying, and that’s where Denny put them.
“How did that happen?” I asked, finally getting my voice back.
“You must have been singing,” said Denny.
“Uh—yea, I was,” I replied, “but I was worlds away from you and those twigs.”
“That doesn’t matter if you had ever touched the branch where grows the blossom,” said Masteress Oldham.
“I saw the blossoms grow right when you were singing before,” said Denny. “If I’d known then that you’re my friend, I wouldn’t have taken them. When I found out you are my friend, it was too late.”
“Thanks for saving the twigs and bringing them,” I said.
“Thanks for rescuing me again,” said Denny.
Maranissa put a silvery bowl next to the blossoms and the capsules. Lucy opened each capsule and dropped the powdered medicine into the bowl.
“Is Dad okay?” I asked.
“So far I am.”
“Dad!”
There he was, right under my nose, lying on a pallet. I gave my dad the biggest hug I’d ever given him to make up for his hardly being able to lift a hand to touch me.
“Dad, I’ll get you cured yet.”
“I—know,” he whispered.
Then I looked at Pollo, expecting to see Charles standing next to him, but he wasn’t.
“Where’s Charles?” I asked, afraid of what the answer might be.
“Present,” said a weak voice.
He, too, was right under my nose, lying on another pallet.
“Don’t tell me you got pestilenced, too!” I exclaimed, taking his limp hand and squeezing it.
“Then we won’t tell you,” said Pollo sadly. “You got here just in time.”
“I’ll sing the chant right away,” I said.
“Not until you’ve had a drink, Nathaniel,” said Masteress Carassima in her deafening voice. She handed me a tall glass and I took a long, refreshing drink. After so long and hectic a ride, it really hit the spot. Denny, too, was given a drink that he gratefully consumed. A squirming under my cape reminded me that I had to share my drink with Simon. I was glad to do that. Mirry played a chord on his harp and Rosalind played an answering chord on her keyboard. Denny took out his drums and beat out a rhythm.
“Ready to sing? asked Rosalind.
“What happens if I mess up the first time?” I asked.
“Just don’t sing any faults,” said Pollo.
“Can I practice it?”
“You’ve done your practicing,” said Rosalind. “Now is the time for your grand performance.”
That was scary. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if I botched the chant with the last windmere willow blossoms in existence. Master Terman placed his reconstructed manuscript of the chant in front of me and I read through the chant in my mind to make sure I remembered it. I did, as far as I could tell. Rosalind smiled at me encouragingly. This time, I wasn’t going to get a chord, or anything. The chant had to be sung unaccompanied. I opened my mouth and took a deep breath, like I’d been taught by Pollo and Rosalind, and then let the music flow out of my mouth. Once I’d started singing, it was easy. I just sang the chant, the way I had so many times with Rosalind and Pollo drilling it into my head. As I sang, Masteress Oldham and Masteress Goldenaro moved their hands gracefully over the blossom to put my spell to work. I got to feeling that I was not just singing about the willow blossom, but that I was the willow blossom. I was small, soft, and blooming. Then I turned into a pinkish cloud and hovered over the bowl. The song seemed to come from some other place and some other person than me, since a cloud can’t sing. As my voice sang the last two lines of the chant, I floated down into the dalebark and became a pink liquid.
I think I blacked out at that point. The next thing I remember is Pollo and Master McDermott catching me to keep me from falling. My head kept on swimming as I saw Masteress Goldenaro give my dad a small spoonful of the medicine. He seemed to look a lot better in a matter of minutes. Charles got a dose from Lucy, and he, too, looked better right away. I had the strange sensation that I myself was being poured into those people. I would like to have followed Lucy and Master McDermott and Preston and other members of our guild as they went through all the sick rooms to give everybody the medicine, but my legs were too rubbery for me to go anywhere. My dad and Charles and Maranissa and Pollo and Mirry and a lot of other people talked to me, but I don’t remember what they said. Some time later, a lot of people who were on their feet for the first time in ages came and thanked me. I was especially happy to be thanked by the little girl whose harp lesson I’d interrupted, because I felt responsible for her being pestilenced, even if it wasn’t really my fault. Again, I had that strange feeling that a little bit of myself was inside everybody who had gotten the medicine. The Gifted Mystics floated in front of me, bowed solemnly, and the disappeared. During this time, I got fed a pretty hearty meal that Masteress Carassima and Maranissa made sure I didn’t neglect because of all the attention I was getting. Simon made sure I didn’t forget to give him his share, as if I could ever forget him. At some time or other, I was asked about how I got lost while looking for the blossom and then how I got to this place that looked so much like a secret den of thieves. As I told my story, I looked around for Master Shamsky, but didn’t see him.
“Where is Master Shamsky?” I asked.
“He’s out obliterating your trail and misdirecting the forces of the Guild of Gifted Rulers,” said Masteress Goldenaro solemnly.
“Oh.”
That is why the happy ending of my story isn’t as happy as I would like. Master Kingsley wasn’t kidding about taking over the whole Gifted World, and maybe a lot more besides. Fortunately, all the pestilenced cared-fors were on doubly compressed time, or all would have been lost by the time I got back with the windmere willow blossom. As it was, Masteress Jakelyn had announced to the Gifted World that my quest was irrevocably lost, and that she had created a healing substance that would relieve the symptoms as long as it was taken regularly for the rest of one’s life. As she had told me she would, this healing substance was offered on condition that the person receiving it and all family members of that person submitted to the rule of the Guild of Gifted Rulers. As great a violation of my guild’s values as that was, Masteress Jakelyn had everybody over a barrel. Everybody who was pestilenced had to choose between accepting her healing substance or hoping I would somehow fulfill my quest although nobody knew where I was.
So it was that the Gifted World was suddenly divided into two hostile camps. The cared-fors inside the roving stagecoach were, of course allowed to accept Masteress Jakelyn’s offer. Masteress Jakelyn even upped the ante when she announced that those who refused her offer at the time would have no chance of receiving her aid in the future. Even so, most of the pestilenced cared-fors spurned Masteress Jakelyn’s offer, even when friends and relatives begged them to accept it. Having been helped by my singing, they threw their lot with me. I was overwhelmed that so many people trusted in me at such a great risk. It meant a lot to me that, in the end, I was able to honor that trust. Most of the pestilence-stricken who were not in our care at the time did accept the offer, or ultimatum, of Masteress Jakelyn. As far as I know, their symptoms have been relieved and they are healthy, but if they ever run afoul of the Guild of Gifted Rulers, the healing spell will not be renewed.
Most Clans and Guilds are now divided. The Guild of Gifted Healers got split about fifty-fifty. Master Medwick, of course, has risen to a prominent position with the Guild of Gifted Rulers. The Guild of Gifted Archivists and the Guild of Gifted Musicians are also roughly fifty-fifty splits. The Guild of Gifted Judges all went over to Master Kingsley’s side except for Master Shamsky, but the whole Guild of Gifted Mystics supports us, except for Masteress Leclercq. We also have the whole Guild of Gifted Culinary Artists on our side, but they haven’t made that public, because they want to work as spies and message bearers on our behalf. I think we’ve ended up getting more than half of the Amber and Blue clans, but quite a lot less than half of the Scarlet and Orange Clans.
Needless to say, several families are broken up by this demand to choose sides. Mirry’s parents, for example, as prominent members of the Amber clan, gave their allegiance to the Guild of Gifted Rulers because they wanted to be in a position to jockey for power in the new regime against the leaders of the Scarlet Clan. That is to say, the same old feud has been renewed in a much more dangerous way. I feel badly that Mirry had to break off relations with the rest of his family because of me, but he insists me and our friends are worth it. Pollo’s parents tried hard to get him to accept the new order, but he also refused on my account and they finally threw in their lot with us. Now that they’ve gotten to know me, they’re glad they made the decision they did. When Charles got pestilenced, his parents also tried hard to get Charles to submit, and they blamed me for making his son sick, but now that he’s okay, they’re willing to like me, and now they’re rebels, too. With communication very bad right now between us and the Submitters, as we called them, I don’t know when Denny’s mother will ever find out where he is. Denny doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to get a message to her.
Almost all of the boys in the Boys’ Choir of Gifted Singers are on our side. Only Carl rejoined his clan and Bursen let his parents bully him in returning to them. We lost Master Lesentrange. That’s too bad, because he’s a good conductor. He submitted right off the bat to save his choir, but By trying to save his choir, he lost most of it. To my surprise, I was asked who should direct the choir. I nominated Pollo. Pollo was flattered, but he didn’t think he was qualified yet. The way we worked it out is to have Rosalind accompany us on her keyboard and give voice lessons to the solists, including me. A good singer in the Guild of Gifted Musicians agreed to give Pollo conducting lessons and ease Pollo into the position.
I’ve pretty well lost the life I had before I made that momentous delivery of medicine to Masteress Olivia Oldham. Up to now, most Gifted people have lived double lives in their own worlds and in the Gifted World. All of the Submitters can still do that, but we can’t. It’s too easy for our enemies to track us down if we should go back to the places where we used to live. My dad and I had to decide if he should tell Mary Ann everything and invite her to live with us as an outlaw, or leave her behind, never to know why we’d suddenly dropped out of her life. We decided to go see her and invite her. Not having much of a family herself, she came with us, and she and Dad are going to get married pretty soon. We’ve already adopted Mirry and Denny into our family. That makes five of us, which is a lot better than just two. Master McDermott can’t return to where he worked happily as an auto mechanic, and Charles has to stay away from Norwich Cathedral Choir where he moonlighted until the pestilence struck the Gifted World and the protective barrier was set up at St. Percivale’s Church. My one horrible day back at Middle School told me I wasn’t losing anything I didn’t want to lose, especially when I realized that the boy who saved me from those bullying guys was Daryl and the girl who gave me some lunch was from the Guild of Gifted Culinary Artists.
That’s where I am now. I’ve fulfilled a healing quest that turned out to be a hundred times harder than it should have been, and I’ve thrown a whole world into confusion. I’m something of a hero for all the rebels, which is kind of embarrassing. On the other hand, the Submitters have denounced me as the most depraved person ever to be part of the Gifted World. We’ve carved out a pretty neat world for ourselves that’s lot larger than I thought it was when I first entered the rebels’ den. It’s like a village where people are always doing a lot of neat things. Now My choir gets to do a lot of neat stuff with other musicians and the Guild of Gifted Dramatists. This makes my musical education a lot richer than it was when the boys’ choir was isolated because of the strangling pestilence. We’ve had to band together into a pretty close family just to protect ourselves and share our Gifts. This means that our sense of identity through our clans and guilds is weakening, and we’re thinking of ourselves as one clan, one guild, a Guild of Freedom Livers. We feel a strong sense of responsibility for standing up successfully against the Guild of Gifted Rulers, as we are the only ones who stand between them and all other worlds that won’t have a fighting chance against them if we aren’t around to defend them.
I’m writing my story in a tree house that I share with Mirry, Denny, Maranissa, Charles and Pollo. As I write this last paragraph, Mirry is playing his harp underfoot, and Denny is next to him, playing his drums. Charles is reading a book he’s going to give me when he finishes, and Pollo is writing an essay about Gifted Music. Maranissa is experimenting with a new recipe that the rest of us will probably have to sample pretty soon. Daryl has floated in to sit quietly with us for a while. Simon is standing on my desk, sniffing the parchment I’ve written all this on. It doesn’t smell tasty to him, so I guess he’s not about to chew it up after all the work I’ve done.