Page 72 of Guardian of Exile

Amelia waved her hand airily. “She doesn’t hate them, only objects to them saving her life. It will be fine.”

“And when word starts circulating that a Shaman is going around healing people?”

“Rumors are rumors,” Amelia said. "People often mistake medicine for miracle when in the depths of delirium.”

“Are they deep enough in delirium to not remember what he looks like?”

She waved a hand airily. “The desert cloaks have facial masks to filter the dust. His face will not be seen.”

“He has other features that are quite distinctive for a Shaman.” She wasn’t trying to be argumentative, but it didn’t feel like anyone was taking this seriously enough, including the Shaman who had just blithely followed Maruca out of the room.

“There isn’t any help for it, Nyx,” Morgen said. “He’s on the verge of cracking. Another half hour and he’ll run into the streets curing headaches and arthritis, and any other small thing he can find. It’ll take hundreds of minor ailments to bring his magic down to a tolerable level. Everyone will remember him, and given his unique condition, for a Shaman, I’m not sure what healing that many people will do to him.”

Unique condition, meaning his lack of access to the Congregation. She remembered Tristen telling her that healing someone could make a Shaman confused about who they were, and that the Congregation took that from them. She was relatively certain he’d only healed three people at a time in Dead Earth. Ones with serious enough problems they would take a significant quantity of magic to fix, but not so many people that it would overwhelm his mind.

The night she’d met him, he’d seemed himself. Suspicious and on-edge, but she hadn’t noticed a shift in his personality from when she’d met him to on any of the following days. So it seemed he’d learned to cope with the number of people he’d chosen to heal.

How many was he going to need to heal here to burn off the magic that had been welling up in him? And was he still going to be himself at the end of it?

But she couldn’t think of another option—unless he wanted to go on a magic-fueled killing spree, and somehow she thought that would draw a lot more attention than a healing spree—so she didn’t argue further. Mostly.

“Are we sure Maruca isn’t going to feed him to the nearest carnivorous animal?” It wasn’t that she actually thought Maruca would hurt Tristen. Nyx just wasn’t sure she would do much to help him. And she wasn’t sure Tristen would notice the lack, since he seemed to have fallen head-over-heels at the mere sight of her.

For a moment, Nyx was worried she was jealous, then was relieved to discover she was only concerned. Tristen was vital and utterly irreplaceable to her plans. If anything happened to him, she was fucked. And she felt responsible for him, having been the person who’d convinced him to come back out into the wider universe. Having him out of her sight—and about to perform no small number of healings—made her nervous.

“Raveras doesn’t have any carnivores large enough to eat a person,” Morgen said.

“Poisonous snakes?” she offered.

Morgen just looked at her. Pointedly.

Yes, yes, she got it—everyone else thought Maruca was warm and fluffy, and Nyx was the only one who clashed with her.

To his mother, Morgen said, “Did Evra tell you that we’re looking for Tristen’s mother?”

“Yes.” Amelia’s expression turned thoughtful. “His speech patterns indicate he is from farther south. Haevis, perhaps, or one of the smaller outposts.” She looked to Morgen.

“My first guess as well. From what he told me, his mother married young—not her choice—and his father died when he was little. Veld is the family name, on the father’s side. It isn’t a common name I can pin to any region.”

“No,” Amelia agreed. “I’ll reach out to the Gavelas. They recently visited the Daylight Outpost, and I’ll write to my other contacts in the area. I should know something in a few days.

“Evra, my dear, I need to steal my son from you for a time. If you follow that hallway”—she indicated the one everyone else had left down so far—“you will find Morgen’s old room first on the left, and guest quarters just past it, also on the left. We have no restrictive customs on your sleeping arrangements, so it is of no matter to me if you choose to room with Morgen, though if you don’t, you and Nyx will need to share. It is so wonderful to have finally met you.”

With that, Amelia absconded with her son, leaving Nyx and Evra alone.

“That seems like it went well,” Nyx suggested.

“Indeed,” Evra said. “She is a truly formidable and remarkable woman.”

Nyx raised her eyebrows. “That’s high praise from you. I take it you’re not concerned for the state of your relationship anymore?”

“No. As I said, a remarkable woman.” Evra hesitated. “Though I do not believe she took seriously enough my protests that Morgen and I are not, in fact, engaged to be married. Do warn me if at any point I miss that I am about to be handed a string of shells when Morgen might also have occasion to reach for them at the same time.”

“Part of the local wedding ceremony?”

Evra nodded grimly. “To that end, I feel it may be safest if I room with you. Though my short acquaintance has left me with great respect for Amelia Drahl, I believe she is quite dedicated to ensuring the happiness of her children, and I have no intention of waking up accidentally married.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got your back. Let’s go check out our room.”