An Emerald's Fire

I knew they were coming for me when the ghosts vanished.

This happens all too often, so I knew what to do. I had only been getting a small meal at this wayside tavern, and I always pay in advance. My personal, precious, possessions are always on my person; the clothing in my travel packs are well worn and easily replaced. I stood up, slung my bag over my shoulder-

“Ah, there you are. Sorry, Lorenzo, or whatever you’re calling yourself now, you need to come with us.”

I would have attempted to run anyway, but I could see the bulky guards looming behind the trio that confronted me. It was hard to see them, because the three in front of me had necks that glowed brightly, reflecting the radiance of the emeralds dangling on their chests. The window darkened, evidence of more guard presence outside.

I sighed. It was over. I let them shackle me to themselves, and they led me outside.

*****

Sitting in a barred cell is lonely.

Never mind that there is another person in the cell with me. She doesn’t count.

The glowing emerald bound at her throat shines in the gloomy torch light. Her harsh exterior, sharp angles and cold demeanor make her a worthy heir to be head of house.

“You know it doesn’t work that way. You saw the others. My brother is one of the kindest people I know, and he’s not head of house. My uncle, as crazy as he is about you and this whole situation, is also not head of house. That honor is given to the one who can play politics and does not mind the game. The rest of us… wish to be left alone to heal others, according to our specialties.”

“Stay out of my head.”

“You cannot have it both ways. If you claim to be one of our by-blows, you are subject to the laws of our house and its leader. If not, then you are not, and must cease your illegal practices. Which you have not. So which is it?”

“Leave me alone. I have my ghosts, same as everyone in the house, and they compel me to heal. When I err, and they die, they are added to my burden, to carry until I join them. “

“Are they here?”

I stopped, and shook my head reluctantly.

She leaned in, interested. “Can you see mine?”

I squinted, but shook my head again.

She sighed, and leaned back with a frown, still studying me. “Then I regret to inform you that you are not the by-blow you wish to be, nor are you a wild talent, nor are you the progenitor of a new house of the Beryl lineage.” Her face softened a touch, bringing humanity to the hard lines of her jaw. “Why you would wish this curse upon yourself, I have no idea, but here it is. Your own condition has worsened, and you are now a great danger to the people you falsely treat for their conditions. You are dying, and if you do not wish to do so and join the ghosts you are likely projecting onto yourself, you must allow me to do surgery. Very soon.”

*****

Two of the House of Emerald watched her come into the room.

“How is the patient?”

“Very disturbed. He has wanted to make himself unique, to the detriment of being healed, and living normally. It is a strange case.”

“Can you do the surgery?”

She shrugged. “The disease has advanced, it is greatly affecting his mind. I can only try my best. If he dies, I will be sorely tormented by his spirit, I fear.”

“All the more reason to succeed, my niece.”

“And as always, Uncle, you give no compassion whatsoever. It is a weakness that needs some improvement.”

He grimaced, jerked a finger over his shoulder at a screaming ghost that all members of House Emerald could see. “Grandfather Jorge respectfully differs in his opinion, considering his long army service and subsequent surgeries. I wish he had asked another family member to treat his leg wound after his last battle.”

The third member, silent till now, he of the kind face, watched both his sister and uncle worriedly. “We can’t afford a family argument now. We need to fix this, before the family’s reputation is damaged permanently.”

“Reputation be damned. Sure, the country folk can have long memories, but when healing’s thin on the ground, they’ll still come to us. That’s not the problem. We have a person who truly believes his healing power comes from being born on the wrong side of the bed, has somehow manifested the symptoms that our house is known for but not the secret ones, has found a piece of emerald jewelry that emits a touch of light for him, and has created potions and elixirs that he serves to those that come to him. From what we can tell, those mixtures haven’t done much harm. Thank all the ancestors for that! But he’s not one of ours, we’ve tested the bottles we’ve been able to collect from his patients. So, what is truly going on?”

The lady shrugged. “I’ll talk to him again. He requested a bit of time to think things through, which I understand. No matter what happens on the morn, he will be changed, and it is a profoundly mind-shaking thing.”

“You gave him a choice? You left him alone?”

“Not really, and yes. He is an adult. Normally, as you well know, he would be given a choice of submitting to the surgery, considering the greater chance of death while trying to save him. But since he’s been impersonating our house, that option is removed. He understands this, but still needed time alone to think it through. He cannot leave his cell, I locked it myself. If he chooses to face death on his terms, I will not prevent it, but I doubt it.”

Her uncle huffed. “Tread lightly, sobrina, this while situation is quite unsettling.”

“I have been dealing with the criminally insane for years, tío, this one is delightfully refreshing. Delusional beats malicious or psychotic on any given day.”

*****

He was very subdued when I returned. He glanced up as I locked the cell behind me.

“Do you have a name?”

“Of course, but is a mouthful, like all noble names. I cannot be bothered by such formality. Please, call me Juana.”

“An inauspicious name, to be named after that particular queen.”

“She wasn’t mad, just inconveniently female. And difficult to intimidate. I am very much like her in those qualities, and I have enough power to escape the traps meant for a dangerous woman.” He nodded, a little, so I asked the same. “Do you have a name? A real one?”

“Francisco. I don’t have a surname. The town herbalist took me in when I was a toddler, didn’t tell me where he got me from. I asked, a lot.” He looked so sad. “I just wanted to be – different. Looked up to.”

“As far as we’ve gathered, you have not done any great harm to anyone. Where those echoes of ghosts came from, that you say are haunting you, I do not know, because we haven’t been following a trail of freshly-dug graves.”

“I used my master’s old herbary. I was an apprentice, not a son, but he died before I could be elevated. I was tossed out the door the next morning. I was hoping that the landlord would be understanding, though I packed the night before as if he would be the greedy bastard he’s always been. My master’s herbs, gems, some clothing, his herbal. I heard later that there was a plague in town, and he was one of the first victims. I did not cause it, but he’s with me, him and old Mama Alcazar and the Ortelano children. And some of our customers. Mostly, they cry, or beg me to return, except for the landlord. He just yells. What do yours do?”

I decided to break one of the secrets of our house. “Honestly? Very little. The gem we wear is spelled to keep them from interfering, unless we choose to hear them. Some have learned sign language to warn us, or guide us. Those we appreciate, they are helpful. Most are just disgruntled customers, angry that we can’t pull miracles out of the air for every person. Most would have been saved, had they come to us sooner.”

“Hunh.” He stared at his trembling hands. “Like me?”

So he was thinking. Good. I huffed, sounding very much like my uncle. “Yes. You are dying, and very soon, if you do not let me try to save you.”

“Why would you save a common criminal? I know the laws about impersonating a noble, and claiming a degree of mastery I don’t own.”

“I am a healer. It is my calling, built into the house’s blood. You are a human, doing the best you could. You are not my usual clients, the ones who kill or maim in order to feel happiness. Or the ones who torture or kill because they don’t see people as real beings. Or the ones who think they are the emperor, or some grand noble, and will try to convince you of the same. Chicanery, perhaps, and a bit of flummery, but the potions you sold weren’t snake oil. Compared to the monsters that haunt me, I think I would prefer some plague victims, and a two-bit bully.”

His eyes were round, thinking. “How do you resist the urge to let the knife slip?”

“Practice. Let their ghosts bother the executioner, or the king. They’re more than equipped to handle such things.”

I did not mention another secret, that I do not need to control the knife. I have studied enough that I can close a blood vessel here, touch a nerve there, and cause enough permanent damage to let them live unresponsive for the rest of their natural lives. There is no fitter punishment for the greater crimes, than living within the prison of your own un-moving flesh.

“What do I have? Does it make me a bad person?”

“Not at all. It is called a tumor, a swelling thing in your head. It pushes on some brain parts, squeezing your thoughts and causing that tremor. Your head aches as well, and blurred sight and memories. Eventually, it puts so much pressure on important parts, that you die. And it is quite large.”

“As much trouble as I have been, I do not wish to die. But I also do not wish to live long enough to be hung for my crimes.”

I reached out to touch his shoulder, and he did not flinch. That is unusual, in my profession. “I will do my best. I am the best.”

He sighed mournfully. “I just… I just wanted…”

I nodded, but reached out with my mind to touch a nerve here, a vessel there. When he passed out, I laid him on the cell’s bench. He would need sleep for tomorrow, as would I.

*****

It was afternoon when I woke. So I lived, though I rather wish I hadn’t.

My head hurt. A lot. There were bandages, a soft bed, and cloth covering my eyes from the brightness I could still feel through my eyelids. Other parts hurt as well, but they were far away. Sorry, arm, and face, and hair, you’ll have to register your grievances later.

I heard rustling, and it hurt my eardrums. A quiet voice cut through the pain, with a gentle touch on my not-hurting arm. “Awake? Do you think you can drink something? I have mint tea with a powerful pain blocker.”

Speaking would rip my head off, but I decided I would like a pain blocker very much.

“I heard you, so let’s do this carefully.” The top of the bed was tilted somehow, and firm hands kept me from hurting further by the moving of things. A straw was placed at my lips, and I slurped a bit.

The pain, as promised, receded. I did not open my eyes, but I could see the shape of the person through the cloth anyway. Juana. So, the surgery-

“Yes, we succeeded. The tumor was removed, and I have it preserved in alcohol for you, in case you would like to see what would have killed you. I am morbidly curious about such things, but I know herbalists may not be, so it is your choice.”

Uh. Not today. Not squeamish, but don’t want to think. At all.

“Fair. What you went through, would have killed many others. You need to rest and heal, not think.”

“Ach, lassie, we dinna need any more cuttin’ aboot! There’s a wheen o’ blathers already!”

Who? What?

Even Juana sounded startled. “Wait, you heard him?”

“Aye, he did, lassie! Yer fenkled, ye are!”

“Well. Interesting. So, it seems that you may have gotten your wish after all, Francisco. That’s an Emerald trait you’re experiencing, hearing another Emerald’s ghosts talking.”

How?

“Well, I had to give you a blood transfusion during the surgery.” I received a sudden image of a pipe, a large needle, and … ergh. No wonder my arm hurt. “I usually use someone else's blood if necessary, but I was alone for once. Unusual. I wonder if this is permanent.”

A thread of wild hope made me shiver, but not enough to bring the pain back. I wondered if that meant she could see and hear my ghosts now.

“Uh, no, Francisco. They never existed. I checked, last night, after I made you sleep. Your town is fine, there never was a disease that wiped it out. Not even your corner of the town. All are still alive – well, except the landlord, he got knifed after cheating at cards. Your ghosts never existed, except in your mind.”

But… they told me…

“I know, I know.” She patted my arm gently. “It will have to remain a mystery. A factor of the disease? A strange haunting? A touch of blood from many generations ago? We will likely never know, so do not fret about it. Rest, relax, and heal, so that you can travel home with me. You are still my patient, and with the transfusion, you are of interest. This has never happened before, and it must be studied.”

Hunh. Famous after all, for all the strangest reasons.

“Indeed, though only to a certain green-gemmed nobility, I’m afraid. But you lived, and we’ll deal with all the rest later. Speaking of…”

I felt her doing something in my mind, and I drifted off. I could also feel her slipping my old master’s emerald ring on my finger. It was tarnished silver, and battered, and chipped, but I could feel the gem much stronger now. It pulsed with more light, that I could sense through covered eyes.

And I could also sense Juana’s smile, and she left the room for me to sleep.