15 The Medics

I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order." -John Burroughs

Julie didn't wait to be told twice. Knowing the boys would follow right behind her, she started down the tightly corkscrewing stairs. It still felt unbelievable to be free. Icarus bobbed on her shoulder, clicking his beak together. I told you all would come right, he said smugly.

Not exactly in those words you didn't, Mr. Riddler, Julie shot back, but she was too thrilled to be annoyed.

The first blast of sunlight on Julie's eyes was stabbing. It appeared to be late afternoon, the sun blazing through the thick canopy of drooping yellow flowers and leaves. A glance at Luke and Seth behind her showed that their eyes were equally screwed up against the glare. Luckily, there were no guards, no Silva in sight. Apparently Colby was right to brag about his escape record.

"Right, Medics." Seth was first to recover. "West should be…this way." Seth set off in the same direction that the sun was angling toward high above. Luke and Julie found themselves hurrying in his wake.

Outside the hanging curtain of the laburnum's foliage, the sun was even brighter. The trees crowded in close, ranging from enormous maples, oaks, and birches to smaller saplings and bushes.

Sure enough, one of the most dominant trees to the west was a huge maple tree. Its star shaped leaves hung in swathes and clusters, and the branches were unusually thick. There were images and designs carved all over it, running in trails over the trunk and limbs.

But what made the three of them freeze in their tracks was the presence of a Silva; a tall boy who looked like one of the oldest Silva Julie had seen so far. He actually looked like he might have broken his teen years. He stood in front of a huge arched doorway that looked far more decorative than the Laburnum Prison's. It even had a garland of leaves crowning it. The tall Silva appeared to be standing guard. He was also wearing clothing slightly different from the others; his tunic and pants appeared to have been bleached whitish-tan, and he was wearing a soft white strip of fabric like a sash. There were bracelets of leaves on each of his wrists. His bond was a sparrow; a miniscule brown puff of feathers just visible on his shoulder.

And there was nowhere for them to hide. Due to the lack of other Silva on the ground, the three of them were in plain sight. The only thing to do was act.

Surprisingly, Luke made the first move this time. Squaring his shoulders, he reached up and flicked his bangs into his eyes, almost habitually. It was a move Julie knew only too well; it made him look friendly and roguish to males, smooth and handsome to females. Then he strode forward, making a beeline for the Medic guard. Julie and Seth exchanged a quick glance, and then followed as confidently as they could manage.

Sure enough, the guard looked at them immediately once they moved. He didn't, however, look angry or suspicious. Instead, he actually smiled. This totally threw Julie, and she could tell by the way Luke's stride faltered that it did him too. Maybe they had made a mistake; was this guy a greeter instead of a guard? Did the healing center really need a guard?

"Hello," Luke called, recovering himself as they drew closer. "I'm Luke, and these are my friends Seth and Julie. We're here to visit—"

"Monty," said the guy calmly. He smiled serenely at them, his expression genuinely friendly. Even his voice was soothing. "She said you might be following. They just took him up. Come inside." His sparrow peeped as if to emphasize the invitation.

After all the things that had happened to them since meeting the Silva, getting to do something this easily made Julie want to yell with joy. Finally, something had gone right. Fayola must have been one step ahead of them, guessing that Colby might send them after her.

The inside of the maple was cool, lit by glowing lamps that burned with a much brighter and steadier light than the flickering ones in the Laburnum Prison. Tree stumps were arranged around the outside of the trunk as seats, and there were a couple of Silva sitting on them, nursing minor wounds like black eyes and bloody scrapes. On the opposite side of the room from the entrance was a neatly hewn table that rose straight of the root system of the tree. Another Silva, a willowy girl with an elegant-looking black and white bird on her shoulder, wearing the same unusually light clothing as the door guard, sat behind the table. Behind her, a short, squat boy that hardly looked older than eleven scurried back and forth making notes on a massive chart that was spread over nearly half the circular wall of the room. Of all things, a pure white duck waddled comically in his wake, letting out an occasional conversational quack.

Just to their left, another doorway let onto a spiral staircase that Julie assumed led up to the rest of the healing center. Above this doorway was another spray of leaves just the one on the outer door, as well as curling script that looked like it had been burned carefully into the wood with a heated stick. It read, in the same nonsensical language that Julie was coming to recognize as the "ancient language" the Silva used, Vigoratus totus, Vulnero nullus.

The girl behind the table looked up as they came in. Julie unconsciously shuffled her feet; she knew how out-of-place they must seem in terms of looks and clothing. Well, maybe not Seth, but certainly she and Luke. This Silva didn't give them a warm smile. Her eyes were a sharp green color a little paler than Seth's, and she looked all business.

"You aren't injured," was her first cool comment. Julie thought that seemed to be obvious, but she didn't say so. Seth, however, had no such restraint on his mouth.

He glanced at his arms, twisted around to see his back, looked at his chest, torso, and legs. "Nope. Not that I can see." He smiled cheerfully at the girl.

She didn't seem amused. Her eyes narrowed. "So why are you here?"

"Visiting," Luke interrupted quickly, before Seth could say anything else. "Our friend Monty is here, and we wanted to make sure he was okay."

The girl looked at them critically, as if trying to judge if Luke was lying. She glanced at the bird bond on her shoulder; Julie thought it was called a shrike, because one of the elders back at the village had had one. She turned around on her seat and said, "Hey, Corty. Find 'Montague' on there."

The kid who was maintaining the charts looked up at the command and started scanning the chart methodically, stabbing a stubby finger at various points. Finally, he said in a surprisingly sure voice for someone so young, "Here we go, Valerie. Montague T. Silvason. Came in just ten minutes ago. Ward 7, Level 4, Branch 2. Committed by Fayola R. Silvadaughter." The duck tugged at his pant cuff. He glanced down. "What, Fennella?" He stared at the bird for a moment, and then he looked up. "Oh yeah, Val. Didn't Fayola say something when she brought him in, about other people coming after her?"

The girl, Valerie, made a soft 'hmmm' sound under her breath. Her shrike bond made a small twittering noise. Finally, she nodded, and Julie found herself relaxing. She hadn't realized she'd been so tense.

"All right. You heard Corty. Ward 7, Level 4, Branch 2. Go on up, but for Ichor's sake don't stress him. What's he in for again, Corty?"

"Looks like minor cuts and bruises, plus a moderately deep cut on the temple and a possible concussion," Corty reeled off, consulting the chart again.

Valerie nodded and made a note on a piece of paper beside her, jerking her head briskly at the doorway for them to go ahead. The three of them exchanged glances, and then Luke once again led the way.

The staircase, like the main room below, was brightly lit with lamps, and the stairs were cleanly cut. Julie wasn't exactly sure what the list of levels and wards and such they'd been given meant, but she guessed they'd find Monty eventually.

The staircase twisted up, every so often splitting off into corridors formed out of branches. Luckily, there were numbers carved over the doorways to these tunnels, so Julie could tell when they were getting close to level four.

When they reached it, they ducked into the corridor marked with a large '4.' The ceiling began to slope as the hollow branch they were walking through got narrower.

The other change Julie noticed was the beds. There were mats made of leaves and fabrics lining the tiny offshoot branches they passed. Most were unoccupied, but now and then Julie would see movement in one.

Finally, Luke stopped, so suddenly that Julie bumped into his back and felt Seth come up against her too. "Found him?" the thief asked from behind, his breath stirring Julie's hair.

"This is Branch 2." Luke pointed at a tiny carved '2' above an offshoot tunnel. Inside, Julie could just make out a couple of the leaf beds laid end to end. Sure enough, there was a tall form leaning over one.

"Fayola?" Luke stuck his head into the entrance and called softly.

The figure looked up. Sure enough, Julie saw the light of the corridor lanterns reflect off the telltale sharp angles of Fayola's face.

"Come in. It's pretty cramped."

Julie squeezed in after Luke, ducking so as not to hit her head on the low wood ceiling. Seth wormed in after them, squatting down to conserve space.

Monty lay on the pallet of leaves and branches, his eyes open. For one strange moment Julie thought his hair had turned into leaves, but then she realized that there were pads of leaves bound against his forehead. His face looked oddly empty without his glasses. Emil was perched by his head, his wings drooping in sympathy with his human partner.

Monty managed to focus on them. "So…Colby did let you out. He broke his record."

"Nah. We decided it didn't count," said Seth. "Since it was a release instead of an escape."

Monty smiled weakly. His face still looked unnaturally pale.

"How is he?" Luke asked Fayola.

"OK." Fayola still looked grim. "Not fantastic, but the Medics say he should be out by tomorrow midday."

"M'fine," Monty muttered. "Should've remembered how to land properly. I didn't roll."

Fayola sighed, absently adjusting some of the leaves on Monty's forehead. "You're actually trying to blame this on yourself, aren't you?"

Monty tried to shake his head, but ended up flinching in pain. "Don't go to the Lanx, Fay. Please, swear on Mercury you won't."

Fayola bit her lip. Her merlin bond whistled softly. For a couple of moments, Monty and Fayola locked eyes, seeming to speak with no words. For one strange moment, Julie wondered if the two of them could somehow do what she and Luke could; communicate directly mind-to-mind.

Finally, Fayola shook her head; a sharp, decisive movement. "I've stood back before, Monty. I can't keep doing it. I'm sorry, but your brother has to be stopped."

Monty closed his eyes, as if in surrender. "It won't do any good, Fay. Sooner or later, he's going to decide to hurt you, and you're just going to give him the reason to do it."

Julie felt very lost, and she could tell by the expressions on Luke and Seth that they were as well. She also felt vaguely as if she were intruding; not only on a conversation between two good friends, but possibly something more if Icarus had been correct.

But Monty seemed to understand. Still with his eyes closed, he said, "They'll be coming up to give me my next medication soon. If I'm not resting, the Medics will have my head. So why don't you fill them in…I'm going to sleep."

"Monty…" Fayola said quietly, but he had gone very still, making it clear he wasn't going to talk any more. She sighed.

She looked up at the three abruptly, as though she had forgotten they were there. "Well, what do you want to know?" Her voice was brisk again, back to her usual self. Julie was too surprised by the sudden change to think of a question. Luke jumped in for her.

"What do the words over the entrance here mean?"

It was a funny first question, and Fayola's wrinkled brow conveyed that. "I didn't know you were so interested in the old language." Luke shrugged. "It means, 'Heal all, harm none.' It's the Medics' personal motto." She wound a lock of her black hair around her forefinger. "And since you're so interested in our customs, the leaves that the Medics wear as circlets are healing trees. The girls wear willow, the boys wear alder. It gives them complete invulnerability on every level. Medics can go anywhere, be accepted by anyone, and can't be hurt by any Silva. They're totally neutral in all disputes."

"They sound like leaders. Or judges," Luke commented.

"They heal people. They don't care what it's for or why or who. They'll just treat you as best they can. That's enough to make them extremely respected among the Silva. But they aren't judges." Fayola's face darkened. "They're the opposite. They don't judge. The judges of the Silva are called the Lanx."

"And that's who Monty doesn't want you to go to?" Julie asked, making the connection.

"Yeah." Fayola transferred Mercury from her shoulder to her hand, holding him beneath her chin. It was a pose Julie had adopted herself many times, and had seen others in too. It was a vulnerable gesture, showing a need for comfort; the comfort that could be provided by holding your bird bond close. Mercury nibbled Fayola's chin gently with his tiny curved beak, and Julie felt a lump in her throat. It felt wrong somehow to see this sharp-edged bandit girl look so conflicted.

After a moment, Fayola seemed to pull herself back to the present. As if she had never paused, she continued in a clinical voice, "When a Silva has a problem with someone or something; they can take it to the leader. That's Tamal, or Rhona if they feel more comfortable discussing it with a girl. If the leader can't solve the problem, or the Silva doesn't like their solution, then they take it to the Lanx. It's not something you do lightly, though." Fayola stroked Mercury. "The Lanx are a council of twelve, and they are extremely elitist."

Seth frowned. "They have a high opinion of themselves."

"They're raised to think like that," Fayola said darkly. "They tend to look down on others; when they sit in judgment, it's a weighty matter. You don't disobey the ruling of the Lanx."

"Or…?" Luke asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Or you get expelled," Fayola said quietly. "Run out of the trees and treated like a common groundcrawler. No Silva will ever accept you again. It's worse than death, believe me."

"Sounds harsh," Luke commented.

"The Lanx are harsh. Like I said, you don't go to them about every little thing. Only when you're serious. Really serious."

"But you want to go before them?" Julie asked. She felt like this was at the heart of the conflict. Why would Fayola want to confront these great judges?

"It's the only way," Fayola repeated, like she was trying to convince herself.

"Why don't you go to Tamal?" Luke asked, as if that was obvious. Fayola gave him a withering look.

"I did."

"And he didn't help?" Despite Julie's dislike of Tamal for his injustice towards them, he didn't seem like the kind of person who would have turned away a concern from one of his people without trying to help.

"Is he afraid of Zephyr?" Luke asked hesitantly.

Fayola chuckled bitterly. "I wish. That's about as far from the problem as you can go, though. You see, Monty was right about one thing. We all have our weaknesses. Tamal happens to have a very serious weakness when it comes to Zephyr."

"You mean he likes him?" croaked Luke, looking horrified.

"Not exactly. But during one raid on a particularly well-armed caravan, a Carrawan soldier with a crossbow took a shot at Tamal. And Zephyr saved his life. Knocked him out of the way."

Seth groaned, as if Fayola had just said some magic phrase. He swept his black hair off his face. "Merciful Picas, that is a problem," he growled. Julie made a mental note to ask him later who Picas was; it wasn't a name she knew from the repertoire of well-known Rathyan stories.

Fayola looked almost appreciative. "See, someone understands what that means. Must be a universal thief's code."

"Hey, I understand that too," said Luke seriously. "It's not just for thieves, it's for warriors. It's a life debt."

"Then we're all on the same page," said Fayola, her voice heavy. "Tamal can't stand up to Zephyr too strongly; he owes him. And he's also blind in a way; he's elevated Zephyr in his own mind because he saved his life. Tamal knows he's a bully, and he doesn't like him, but he won't believe that Zephyr would hurt Monty, or anyone else." She looked at Monty's sleeping form, and her cool gray eyes softened again. She touched his shoulder gently, adjusting the rough blanket that covered him. "So the Lanx are my only option. It's risky, but I can't let him keep putting Monty through this. Not anymore. I can't stand it, and I won't." Although her words were flinty, the way she touched Monty's temple with her knuckles most definitely was not. Julie swallowed.

Great Anna, Icarus was right. Julie didn't consider herself an expert, necessarily, but she was now almost sure.

Fayola was in love with Monty.