Free To the High Redoubt by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro Page B

would see things that were new to him. She cut herself off, hurrying her prediction for him, saying only that there were more foes that he knew of to battle. Her last remark came to him clearly—that there were more ways to see than with the eyes .
    He came awake with a start and found Surata kneeling near his feet, busy massaging his calves and ankles. “What!”
    â€œYou are awake,” she said, unperturbed as she kept at her task.
    â€œI…I dreamed.” He began to laugh and stopped when he heard the sound he made.
    â€œYou remembered,” she corrected him, not taking her concentration from what she was doing.
    â€œPerhaps,” he said, feeling dazed. “It was so…” The words trailed off. “Say something to me.”
    â€œWhat would you like?” she asked.
    â€œYou’re speaking well,” he said, baffled and sarcastic at once.
    â€œWhile I touch you, I can do this. If we are not touching, I have only the words you have taught me.” She moved a bit and began to work on his feet.
    He had to think about this, and finally asked, “Are you a witch?”
    â€œNo. You do not believe in witches, in any case,” she said as serenely as ever.
    â€œThat what are you? How do you do this? What have you done to me?” This last question was the most frightening of all, and his voice rose as the words tumbled out of him.
    â€œI am…an alchemist, you would call it. My family has followed that teaching and that life for many generations. It is the way of Bogar to do this. Bogar is my family, my…House. What I have done to you is minor. I have asked you for help, and you have given it to me.” She turned her face toward him. “Arkady-immai, until you came upon me, I feared that my life was over and that there would never again be a chance to return to my home and undo the wrongs that have been done to us.”
    â€œWhat happens when you aren’t touching me?” he demanded, still fearful of her and what she had done to him.
    She released him and sat back on her heels. “Not good, Arkady-immai. Not many words. Not good talk.”
    â€œBut you understand me?” he prompted her.
    â€œNot good; some.” She cocked her head to the side. “Hands, Arkady-immai?” As she asked this, she held out her own.
    Reluctantly, he put his into hers. “All right, Surata, here.”
    â€œIt is better, isn’t it?” She smiled at him.
    He sighed. “I hope so,” he said after a moment. “But if you continue to do…this thing you do, I don’t know how I will feel.”
    â€œThere is only a little more, and then the worst will be behind you.” She sensed his alarm at this and moved closer to him. “No, no, Arkady-immai, do not turn away from this. You will have some discomfort, and then it will be past you. If it were a boil, you would not hesitate to lance it, but because it is a memory, you enshrine it, though it infects your life.” Again she stretched out along his body, not caring that he was naked. “It is not a great thing; you have only made it a great thing by denying it and hiding it.”
    â€œYou know nothing about this,” he said gruffly, twisting to break free of her.
    â€œArkady-immai, you bought me because you heard me cry to you. You may think of it any way you like, but that is the truth of it. You have returned my life to me. Let me do what I may to do the same for you.” Her hand again came to rest where his ribs joined.
    â€œDon’t,” he warned her, feeling the same strange sensation spread through him that had accompanied his memories.
    â€œIf you do not wish it, then I will not. But you do wish it, Arkady-immai.”
    â€œYou are a witch,” he muttered, turning his head away from her.
    â€œYou know I am not,” she said. “I cannot force you, no matter what you fear. If you do not want to be free of this, nothing I do