In The Name of Love
40: Emergency

A warm breeze ruffles Kai’s hair as it dances through the leaves of the trees around him, reminding him that Fantor, the start of summer, has come. Summer has always been his favorite season—he loves the warmth, the long daylight hours and the excuse they give him to be outdoors, the way everything around him is so alive. However, this year there’s a little trepidation under his enjoyment of the afternoon sunshine as he meanders through the courtyard. Princess Wilhelmina’s wedding will be in Santor, less than two months away, and that means there’s even less time before she and Fifi leave for Syazonia.

Of course, Fifi will come back. He knows that. But as distressed as she’s been about the planning for her sister’s wedding, Kai can’t imagine how sad she might be afterward. And he hates to see her upset. His thoughts haven’t been far from her since that rainy afternoon when he held her while she cried. Until she was in his arms, he’d been completely sure about what he wanted from life, and it had nothing to do with a castle or a title or even a marriage. Sigurd seems to be perfectly happy in a solitary life in the woods, and Kai thought he would be the same way. Even when he’d decided to spend time at Adelhyod to help Fifi find a way out of her cage, if she wanted one, his vision never went beyond helping an acquaintance, someone who’d been kind to him. He certainly never thought he might want anything that would line up with his father’s ambitions for him.

But something has changed as he’s gotten to know her. He admires the way Fifi has taken to Cybarein, her love for the natural world, her kindness, her energy, the way she speaks her mind. The thought of any of the princes from her sister’s Quest for Favor competing for Fifi and her choosing one of them makes his chest tighten and his stomach clench. Joining the competition for her hand himself would seem a fool’s errand—her father’s dislike for his, and outright coldness to him, hasn’t changed in the weeks he’s spent at court, despite his best efforts and help from Karl and Ingemar. But what other hope can Kai possibly have of even continuing to be friends with her, past her own marriage? Sneaking around in the courtyards to practice Cybarein won’t last forever. Secrets are always found out.

“Well. Maybe not always,” he mutters to himself. His father and stepmother have never caught on that he’s cybrinn, although they certainly think he’s a bit odd. But maybe I shouldn’t speak too soon. There’s still time—

“Hang on, little one,” Fifi’s voice says, somewhere else in the courtyard. Her voice trembles with concern. Quick footsteps and swishing fabric accompany it. “Not long now. I know someone who can help you…”

“Fifi?” Kai calls. He rounds a clump of leafy boxwood with new purpose, trying to ignore how his heart has leapt into his throat, and nearly crashes into Fifi. She stumbles back, wide-eyed and disheveled, holding her hands protectively against her chest. Light gray feathers and a small clawed foot stick out around her fingers.

“Kai! Thank goodness. I was on my way out for our lesson, and I heard all this commotion in the kitchen, so I stopped to see what was going on and…” She slowly holds her hands out towards him, revealing a trembling dove with wings bent at unnatural angles, breathing shallowly, blood in its feathers. Kai’s breath catches and his insides twist in horror.

“She was in the kitchen?” His mind races as he gently touches the injured bird, trying to sense her energy and come up with a plan.

“I guess they left the door open to get a breeze, since it’s such a nice day. It does get awfully hot in the kitchen. But she flew in, and the cooks and scullery maids and pageboys all panicked and started chasing her, swinging at her with pots and pans and rolling pins and anything else they had in hand. By the time I arrived, she could barely stay in the air and was too dazed to have any hope of finding a way out. She practically fell into my hands when I ran in to try to help her. Do you think there’s any hope of saving her?”

Kai’s jaw tightens as he considers. The bird is weak, quivering, radiating pain. “We can try.” Do I have any of the healing herbs with me? Do any of them grow in this courtyard? he wonders, rummaging through his pockets. We can’t take the dove back inside, and Fifi can’t be seen anywhere near my rooms….

“What do I need to do?”

“Let’s find a place to sit down. This will take some energy, some concentration, some—aha!” His fingers close around a small pouch of powdered tree bark and dried herbs. Here’s hoping this will do the trick. “Do you know if there’s any lavender in this courtyard?”

Fifi frowns and bites her lip. “Maybe, back that way?” She gestures with her head. “This has all happened so fast, and I don’t know how much time she might have left—”

“Let’s just walk that way, then. Try to project calm for her. Stress won’t help with healing.” Even as he says it, the erratic thumping of his heart calls him a hypocrite. I’ve never done any healing without Sigurd. She’s never done any at all. And if we fail….

“I’ll do my best.” Fifi glances up at the sky and takes a slow, deep breath. In the same moment, Kai sees a patch of purple flowers thrust skyward on spiky stems, a few paces off the path ahead of them to the left. Bees and butterflies attend the flowers. A soothing, unmistakable scent reaches them a moment later.

“We probably shouldn’t get too close, with the bees…” Kai mutters.

“I’ll sit here, under this birch tree, if you’ll get the lavender and anything else we need? I wish I knew more…” Fifi shakes her head in despair.

“We’ll do our best for her. I promise.” He doesn’t feel the confidence he’s trying to display, but his movements are quick and sure as he plucks lavender from the patch in the courtyard without disturbing the insects buzzing around it. A few moments among some nearby dogwood shrubs yield a few twigs for splinting and some long, flexible pieces of grass, and then he returns to Fifi, who has settled the dove on a cushion of fallen leaves and flower petals. The bird warbles a pained, distressed coo as Kai approaches.

“Shhh, shhh, little one,” Fifi tries to soothe her. “He’s here to help. We’re going to help you.” She runs a gentle finger over the dove’s head and back as she speaks.

“You’re going to do the ritual,” Kai decides as he watches the bird relax under Fifi’s touch. Something warm and unfamiliar is stirring in the pit of his stomach, but he tries to ignore it and focus on the task at hand.

“Me?! But I’ve never—”

“I know. But she’s more comfortable with you, and I’ll be right here. I’ll give you everything you need.” He hands her one of the sprigs of lavender. “Put it near her head, for calming. I’ll use the rest to make the poultice. Can you try to splint her wings with these?” Their fingers brush as he gives her the twigs and grass.

“You mean, use them to hold her wings the way they’re supposed to go?” she asks.

Kai nods.

“I’ll do my best.” She proceeds to whisper to the dove, who cries and flutters weakly at every attempt to touch her wings. Kai keeps an eye on her while he mixes lavender with some of the powder from the pouch in his pocket and a bit of spit. Water from a sacred spring, or even a fountain, would be better, but this courtyard has neither and they don’t have time for searching.

“You’re all right, little one. I know it hurts. We have to do this to help you get better,” Fifi tells the bird, jaw tight but with an aura of calm patience. One of her hands lightly runs over the dove’s body, checking for other injuries, while the other holds one wing steady in its twig splint. The bird pecks at her and squeaks in pain. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just trying to see….what it is we need to do….”

“What have you found?” Kai asks, stirring the poultice in the palm of one hand with his finger. “Good job on the splinting, by the way. I know I didn’t explain….”

“There’s more broken bones, inside, I think. She’s definitely in pain. What’s that, in your hand?”

“I’ll explain after. It works with the words, and energy, to heal what’s been hurt. We just need to put it on her….”

“All over, or just the injured places?”

“In this case, wherever you can get it on her, but on the injuries if possible.”

“You’ll have to help. I can’t hold her still and do that at the same time.”

“All right. Keep talking to her, then? She seems to like it.”

Fifi obliges, holding the dove like she’s made of glass while telling her what a good girl she is and how she’ll feel much better soon. Meanwhile, Kai uses one fingertip to apply the poultice along her wings and torso and tries to remember to keep breathing. As they’ve worked, the dove has been losing energy, her eyes becoming dull and listless. There’s a gash in her left side that’s oozing blood, and Kai puts as much of the poultice as he can on it, around the bird’s weak protests.

“Okay. And now…. I hate to ask, but we’ll need something for the energy. Gemstones are good for healing. Do you happen to have an amethyst or a diamond or something….” Kai’s voice trails off in embarrassment, but Fifi just nods. Keeping one hand on the dove, she fiddles with the brooch on her bodice until it comes off, then hands it to him. It’s made of gold and shaped like the sun, set with a trio of sparkling clear stones at the center.

“I hope that will work,” she murmurs. “We don’t have much time.”

“It should work.” I hope. I don’t know for sure what stones those are, but they should have enough for this bird… “Um. One hand on her, the other on this.” He sets the brooch on the ground so that the gems are against the dove as he speaks.

“And now?” Fifi prompts as she complies.

“Repeat after me.” He takes a deep breath and mirrors her pose: one hand on the dove, the other on the brooch. “Ley’keh o’ loch’yeh, zh’yohras hiel.”

“Lay keh o lohk yuh, jorus heal….”

“Try it again. Ley’keh o’ loch’yeh, zh’yohras hiel.”

Fifi tries again, closer this time, and so they continue, Kai and then Fifi, repeating the Barivyce phrases: Heal and mend, be made whole.

Beneath their fingertips, the dove becomes still and calm. The brooch grows warm, and shimmery threads seem to stretch between the gemstones and the bird’s chest. The poultice seeps into her feathers. The gash in her side weaves itself closed as they chant.

“Ley’keh o’ loch’yeh, zh’yohras hiel…Shhhhhhh,” Kai breathes. He deftly removes a twig splint from one wing, and Fifi removes the other. The dove immediately folds her wings at her sides and ruffles her feathers, then looks at them with bright eyes. Then she coos and flutters her wings as though she was never hurt.

Fifi gasps in delight and offers the dove a hand, which she hops onto with no hesitation. Kai looks on while Fifi, beaming, gets to her feet and lifts the dove towards the sky. She belongs to Cybarei, not a crown, he decides as the bird takes off from Fifi’s hand and flies away without a backward glance. She watches after the dove, all smiling radiance, chestnut hair and grass-stained skirts blowing in the breeze, eyes aglow with joy and gratitude and satisfaction.

Kai, in contrast, remains on the ground, content to just sit with his feelings—relief that they were successful, pride in that success, and a powerful aching wish that neither of them had been born to a title, that they could have met somewhere else under other circumstances. She’s beautiful, a born cybrinn, and all at once his visions of his future show them working together as partners, side by side. He wants to say something to her, to tell her somehow, but the tiara resting on her head reminds him that it’s impossible and stills his tongue. Her father will never agree. Even if I were to compete, he’d have me thrown out or worse if he thought she might choose me, he tells himself, but the ache of longing only sharpens in response.

Does her father have to agree? he finds himself wondering, and at that moment Fifi turns towards him again. His blood rushes in his ears, drowning out everything else as their eyes meet. Sigurd’s warning in his pocket echoes in his mind: Tread carefully.

But looking into her warm brown eyes, so full of life and joy, he knows that’s a warning he can’t possibly follow anymore.

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