Keepers of the Flame

“Ohmygod,” Bri said thickly, turning her head. “Lladrana. I didn’t do it, twin!” Childhood words of utter truth tore from her. My itchy feet didn’t bring us here!

The chimes ran up and down the scale, once, twice…seven times. Noises wrung from Elizabeth merging with Bri’s. After the last tone reverberated, they huddled together on cold stones.

Bong! The final thump on the huge silver gong had them twitching.

Silence.

Shoving her sweaty hair away from her eyes, Elizabeth stared at the people again. They’d unlinked their hands.

Three women came to stand near them, outside a glowing green circle around a star on the floor. These three were Caucasian, though the tall, voluptuous woman with red hair and blue eyes appeared to have an Eastern European heritage.

She gestured and the green circle surrounding them subsided. “I’m Marian Harasta Dumont.” She touched a golden band around her forehead that showed lightning bolts and clouds, whorls that looked like wind, curvy waves. She, too, had a large streak of white in her hair. “I’m a Sorceress, called a Circlet of the Fifth Degree.

“Welcome to Lladrana, another dimension. We have Summoned you here on behalf of the Cities and Towns. A strange fatal illness has come and they requested medicas—doctors.”

Bri sat up straight, glowered at them, crossed her arms. Elizabeth kept her mouth shut.

The smallest person there, a woman with silver hair and wearing chainmail and hip sheaths spoke. “I’m Alexa Fitzwalter, come from Denver last year. I was an attorney. Here in Lladrana I am a Swordmarshall and use the Jade Baton of Honor.” She pulled out the baton. It flared green and silver and bronze. The flames atop it turned from metal to real.

Impressive.

Does her name sound familiar to you? Elizabeth asked Bri.

No, but attorney…would Uncle Trent have said something about her?

Maybe I want them to do all the talking, though, Elizabeth said.

Good plan.

The willowy blond cleared her throat. She wore a leather outfit. “I’m Calli Torcher Guardpont. I am the Volaran Exotique.” Her brief smile lit her face. “Flying horses.” She inclined her head to others dressed as she was, “and the knights who ride them, Chevaliers.”

I think I hit my head on the stones, Bri said.

Elizabeth turned to her and sent her fingers roaming over her sister’s skull. Without thought she drew power into herself, sent it flaring around Bri’s head, checking for any damage.

Breaths caught in gasps around them.

“You’re a doctor?” Alexa asked.

Neither of them answered. You’re fine. You have a hard head, Elizabeth said.

I’m having massive hallucinations.

You aren’t the only one.

“We know this sounds crazy, but it’s true,” Marian said. “We can prove you’re in another land. A place that needs you very much.” She pulled a stick about as long as her hand from her pocket. It grew and shaped into a wand. Then as Elizabeth watched, the piece of wood lengthened and thickened until it was a staff.

“They’re not believing us.” Marian sighed.

“It takes a while,” Alexa muttered.

“Yes, but it should be easier with a welcoming party like us,” Marian said.

Bri snorted.

“Neither one of them looks like the woman we’ve been having those intense dreams about.” Alexa shrugged, peered at them. Then said, “How long are you going to sit there and let us stare at you and talk about you?”

I vote forever, Bri said to Elizabeth. Hallucinations have to end sometime. Someone will find us in the elevator.

Elizabeth chuckled.

The blond woman’s, Calli’s, eyes narrowed. “Do you get the idea that they’re mentally talking to each other?”

“Twins,” said the short one, Alexa, philosophically. “And they’re very Powerful, you can hear the strength of their Songs. Telepathy might be the first thing they notice.”

Good guess, Elizabeth said to Bri.

They’re all sharp. And now that she mentioned it, I, uh, hear tunes coming from everybody.

Elizabeth tilted her head. She was concentrating on her own vital signs, her pulse, her breathing, and Bri’s, but beyond that she could hear small tunes emanating from each person. Sometimes it was comprised of more than one melody. She focused on Marian’s and discovered the tune became less of a string and more of a woven rope—and led to a black-haired, blue-eyed man standing behind her.

Bri had followed her thoughts. Interesting.

“Time for plan B,” Alexa said. She gestured to a tall man with powerful shoulders dressed in gray raw silk shirt and trousers. He gave them a half-bow. His expression was serious, his eyes haunted. He left.

Bri’s fingers twined in Elizabeth’s. That bad feeling is back.

Yes.

“The baby thing worked for me,” Alexa said conversationally. “Twice.”

I definitely don’t like where this might be leading, Elizabeth said.

“Children worked for me, too, in a different way,” Calli said softly. She held out her hand and a man came up and stood with her. A definite couple. Their Song spiraled out and snagged Elizabeth, so strong and loving and tender that she had to block it out because it reminded her of what she’d lost with Cassidy. She turned away from the sight of them.

Bri squeezed her hand. They look very married, and he’s definitely a native. Marian’s guy, too.

Elizabeth shivered. At that moment the large door opened and the man wearing gray strode back in. He held a small, limp body in his arms.

“Oh, no!” Elizabeth and Bri said.

He walked straight up to where they sat and carefully laid the boy of about three before them. The man’s expression was stark. “Mortee.” He dies.

3

Elizabeth and Bri went to opposite sides of the boy, reached for him. His breath wheezed, his face was pale and grayish compared to the golden-peach complexions of the healthy adults. He opened his eyelids. A horrified noise escaped Bri at the milky film covering his eyes.

“Do you recognize these symptoms?” Bri asked, staring at her sister. She pushed the boy’s limp hair back from his forehead, gently turned his head to look in his ears, opened his mouth. His tongue showed a white coating too.

“Um,” Elizabeth unbuttoned the boy’s shirt, put her hand on his chest. “Erratic and thready.”

“Don’t give me doctor-speak comparisons. Do you recognize this?”

“You never left people without hope,” Elizabeth muttered.

“Twin,” Bri said, “there’s magical energy all around us.”

“Illusion.” Elizabeth glared. “He needs a hospital.”

“We’ve already tried everything. People are dying every day.” Tears dribbled down Calli’s cheeks. She and the other two women who spoke English kept close.

“We can help him with our healing gift!” Bri said.

Elizabeth lifted her palms from the small boy. “I can’t do anything without my instruments. Antibiotics, drugs!”

Alexa shifted her weight, looked at Elizabeth, met Bri’s gaze. “We’ve done all we could.”

Elizabeth folded her arms, held her opposite elbows tight. “Everything’s too strange,” she whispered. “Magic doesn’t work.”

With a set mouth and steady stare at Elizabeth, Bri stretched her arms, flexed her fingers, placed her hand on the boy’s forehead and groin. She blinked as the air around her glowed, hummed.

Bri looked at Elizabeth, neat and tidy. It would be so much easier with her sister helping. Too bad. She’d have to fling herself into the healingstream alone, as usual. Elizabeth hunched her shoulders, glanced away. She wasn’t used to working outside a clean hospital, depending on the healingstream and herself. Focusing on the boy, Bri opened herself to the healingstream. Only complete dedication would save the boy’s life. She grabbed for the current.

Energy slammed into her, through her. She thought she heard Elizabeth gasp. Bri’s hands turned fiery with green flames. The boy’s body arched and jumped. Oh, God, oh, God, she’d killed him.

She flung herself back. Her legs tangled. Her head hit hard stone. Commotion erupted around her. Her mind spun, she was afraid to look at her hands. Her fingertips must have blackened from the force of what she’d taken hold of.

She was used to a stream of healing energy, not a raging river. Awesome.

Fearsome.

Her heart stopped thundering the same time her vision cleared—or she had enough sense to blink. She stared up at a circular room, with windows high in the wall. Stained glass alternated with clear. Rough beams were studded with opaque white crystals. Stones that held energy like batteries. Too many crystals to count. She’d plugged into a huge power source.

Would any place on Earth have such a potent psi-magical energy current? Doubt gnawed. The more she ignored it, the stronger it became.

The flow had held a tang of otherness. Usually she’d tap into the healingstream, taste what she only knew as Mother Earth. A current of energy straight from the core, smelling like molten lava, tasting like the richest soil. Those sensations had been absent, other sensual cues had come instead.

“Twin,” she croaked, and turned her head.

Elizabeth didn’t look at her. She was on her feet, next to the man who’d scooped up the boy. Bri felt her mouth drop open. The kid was squirming like any healthy and active youngster. Ohmygod.

The boy’s eyes were wide open, bright and brown. His skin looked rosier than most everyone else’s. Pale and trembling, Elizabeth had turned doctor and was lifting her hand from his forehead. Then she stuck out her tongue at him and he returned the gesture. Appeared red enough to Bri.

Ohmygod.

Not God, you, Elizabeth said stiltedly in Bri’s mind.

Bri swallowed and watched her twin trail her fingers over the boy’s cheek. Now well hydrated, almost chubby.

Elizabeth shuddered. You saved a life. Slowly, she met Bri’s gaze, her own full of shocked disbelief. You saved a life with…with….

Healing hands. She glanced down, they weren’t black.

The man holding the boy said something and the redhead—Marian—translated the twisted French-like words. “There are other sick outside in the cloister walk. We brought everyone from Castleton, fifteen sick. One died before you came.”

Elizabeth stared at Bri, hands fisting. Bri sensed her yearning to help. But Elizabeth would have to admit to having a gift. Which she’d denied since they were teens. Would she help?

Elizabeth stretched out her hand. “Twin?”

Bri rocked to her hands and knees, levered herself to her feet. Swaying, she reluctantly lifted one foot, then the other, stamping them down to ground herself, connecting again with—not Mother Earth. She ignored a heart twinge, took a step, saw Alexa sidling toward the bags of potatoes and had a flash of insight.

“Those potatoes are ours! So’s the food chest.” She glanced around. Who could they trust to guard their “treasure”? As she focused on people, she heard tunes coming from them. Most were fascinated, many were grateful, only one had an essential defining characteristic of pure honesty. She nodded to the guy dressed all in white leathers. “Will you keep our belongings for us?” she asked in careful French, gesturing to their pile of stuff, including Elizabeth’s healthy back bag and Bri’s solar-paneled backpack containing her cell, her PDA, her music player. All those would help in discovering whether the others spoke the truth and she and Elizabeth were in a different place.

The man nodded and came to stand near their things, careful not to touch them. His nostrils flared, he closed his eyes and shuddered, but his face remained impassive.

Narrowing her eyes, Alexa shot Bri a speculative look. “You heard enough of his Song to choose him to watch your stuff.”

That deduction jolted Bri, emphasized the strange things that were happening.

“Bri,” Elizabeth called from near the big door.

Bri turned and scanned the round room. She and Elizabeth might have to return here, recreate the setting. So she stopped to soak in details before her mind focused on other, more critical matters.

The gong was gigantic and polished silver about nine feet in diameter. The altar had lamps made of precious gemstones containing flickering candles. A small mallet lay by the lamps. Since they were in the colors associated with the seven chakras, Bri figured they served as light and the chimes. Her stomach quivered as she recalled their effect on her.

The room was a huge cylinder of white stone, with sections partitioned off by tall, fancily carved wooden screens like she’d seen in India. The large rectangular pool she’d skirted smelled of herbal water—acacia, lavender, something resinous—Balm of Gilead?

Built-in stone benches circled the room, their hard lines broken with colorful pillows in all sizes.

People had gathered in clumps, usually those dressed alike, and were studying them. The way Alexa, a small woman, strode through the chamber let Bri know that she expected most people to get out of her way, and they did. An attorney from Denver, huh? Well, she’d certainly made a name for herself here. The thin scar on her cheek, the toughness of her body and the weapons that she wore made Bri’s bad feeling return.

One more step and she reached Elizabeth and the man, who was a lot taller than Bri expected, with big shoulders and a body that looked as if he did hard labor every day—but not with the air of a soldier that Alexa had.

“So,” Alexa said with a measuring look. “Your name is Bry? Brianna?”

It was Brigid. Bri shared a glance with Elizabeth. How much to say? Were names power here? Should they hide their names? When neither of them answered Marian sighed.

The man handed the child to another guy dressed in pants and shirt. He put his fingers near his heart and bowed deeply. “Sevair Masif,” he said. Looking straight in Elizabeth’s, then Bri’s eyes, he spoke and Bri got the gist of heartfelt thanks since his words were halting and full of rich tones.

Marian translated, “Thank you. We have lost several from this dread disease, but not one so young. He is an only child of a widow and his mother treasures him. Thank you.”

Bri inclined her head. Elizabeth pressed her lips together. In regret that she hadn’t helped cure the boy? In denial that she could have helped with…magic?

Marian’s mouth curved in a smile that Bri distrusted. The Sorceress held out a little bottle. “One drop of this would banish that language barrier for an hour, though you both seem to know French.”

“A little,” Elizabeth said.

“Some,” Bri said.

“No,” they said together as they stared at the bottle.

Marian’s smile faded. She tilted her head in the direction of the door. “Additional patients await you outside. It will be more efficient if you can speak well to direct us.”

Alexa said, “We all work in healing circles, but we haven’t been able to effect any cures. More cases surface every day, more deaths every week.”

Do we dare leave here? Elizabeth asked.

Bri licked her lips. They sound as if they need us.

“Why does everyone have to be bribed to take the potions?” Marian said.

The blond woman who was dressed all in leathers, Calli, smiled at this. “Oh, just because we’re not stupid.” She glanced at the twins. “It does work.”

Cocking her head, Bri said, “What’s the bribe?”

“I answer every question you have for two hours,” Marian said promptly.

“If this is really a different place, you promise to send us home,” Bri countered.

“Can’t be done,” Marian said, with a finality that left no argument. She gestured to the groups of people drifting toward them. “It took all of us to Summon you here. Returning you is an even greater feat.”

The big door was flung open and a hysterical woman shot in. She saw the boy and shrieked, grabbed him. Bri and Elizabeth moved instinctively, then checked as the woman began kissing his face all over, hugging him tight, tears pouring from her eyes.

Moaning came from outside. Twin? asked Elizabeth.

Bri squared her shoulders, tried a hard expression as she looked at Marian. “You three know English and this mangled French. You can translate.”

“Three days,” Marian said. She drew herself up. “I’ll be at your disposal for three days.”

“Take her up on it,” Alexa advised.

Bri’s hand met Elizabeth’s and they linked fingers as if they were little girls again. Bri felt wonder, the willingness to heal…. “We don’t anticipate being here three days,” Bri said. “Someone will find us in the elevator.”

“Elevator?” Alexa sounded fascinated. “You came here by elevator?”

They left the room for a covered outdoor portico. Before them was a huge courtyard surrounded by dark shapes of buildings like a medieval Castle in excellent condition.

The air! Elizabeth said.

Much more humid than Denver.

No traffic sounds.

The smells are different, too. Rain, wet stone, even the people smelled subtly different than any other culture Bri’d visited.

Sevair Masif turned right, toward the sound of moaning. A tide of pain swept to Bri from Elizabeth, who’d gotten hit first. Her twin doubled over. Bri bent down and hugged her, reached again for the energy flow, felt it rush as if a faucet had been turned on above her. The current washed away the echoes of pain, let her put a thin bubble of protection between her and their patients’ hurting. She helped Elizabeth erect mental shields.

Sevair had stopped and turned to observe them.

Bri became aware of reverberating sound—this time thready melodies that pulled at her heart with a yearning to mend. She was still considering the strange notion that she could hear tunes coming from people when Elizabeth straightened, squeezed her hand, then crossed the stone courtyard with a steady step. Her sister headed to a covered walk along what looked like a Castle keep—cloisters, with lacy stone half-walls and open “windows.”

Elizabeth looked down the walk, her emotions amplified and easily felt by Bri. Pity. Hope. Most of all, the desire to help, to heal. She looked at Bri.

“Are you with me?”

They exchanged a glance. Bri could almost see the reflection of herself in Elizabeth’s eyes, knew Elizabeth thought of her as a new-age rebel exploring fringe healing. Did Elizabeth sense how Bri saw her—a buttoned-down doctor?

Someone cried out. Elizabeth flinched. “You saved a life.” And I stood aside, she added mentally, blinking hard.

Don’t beat yourself up. I took a familiar risk.

Elizabeth sighed. I’m willing to risk it with you. “Can we heal fifteen?”

“We won’t know until we try. We’ll give it our best shot.”

Elizabeth nodded. Bri hurried over, all too aware of otherness surrounding her. She joined Elizabeth and saw cots set up all along the walkway.

Elizabeth sent red-headed Marian a cool glance. “Take us to the worst cases, first.” Marian spoke to a man and a woman who wore red tunics with white crosses on them, and they went to the far end of the corridor. Elizabeth and Bri followed.

Glancing down as she followed her very impressive twin, Bri saw that the people were definitely different from those who’d been in the round building. Their clothes were shabbier, seemed more lower and middle class. She clenched her jaw; she wanted to help. Elizabeth had positioned herself on one side of a pallet. Bri took the opposite side. Elizabeth had also set her teeth.

Relax, she sent to Elizabeth, opening her own mouth to ease her jaw muscles.

I am relaxed.

Check your jaw and shoulders.

Elizabeth stiffened, then moved a little, loosening her shoulders and her stance. She took a slow breath in and relaxed her muscles as she exhaled. When she looked at Bri, her eyes gleamed from a pale face. All this strangeness was getting to them both, but the restless shifting and the sheer hurt of the sick people around them demanded their attention.

Other people had followed, most standing in the courtyard outside the cloister windows. The three Caucasian women—Alexa, Marian, and Calli—remained near.

Bri stepped up to their first patient, an elderly woman. The woman had a slow, thin tune with little embellishments. Bri put her left hand on her head.

Yes, said Elizabeth, you take her head. I don’t trust myself to send the proper amount of energy to her head. A shiver rippled through her.

It was cooler here, especially in the stone cloister walk, than in Denver. Or maybe it was just later in the night.

Elizabeth spread the fingers of her right hand over the woman’s heart, Bri extended her own right-hand fingers, with one finger touching Elizabeth’s over the woman’s abdomen, felt loose flesh, the laboring of lungs. Milky eyes stared up at her. Bri swallowed hard. The woman was as tall as the rest of these people. Elizabeth set her other hand, spread to touch Bri’s, over the woman’s crotch.

Bri and Elizabeth matched gazes, breaths.

“Ready?” asked Bri.

Elizabeth nodded. You handle it.

Fear puddled in Bri’s stomach, but she shut it away, hoping her sister couldn’t sense it. She opened herself to the energy. She pulled, gently, gently. It rushed through her like a river. She felt the briskness of the night, an effervescence that twinkled like stars in the sky outside the walk. She swayed.

A woman clasped her shoulders, helped ground and steady her, though she didn’t seem able to grip or work the healingstream. Marian.

Incredible, echoed in Bri’s mind from the sorceress, went to Elizabeth. I’ve never sensed Power like this.

Elizabeth, mind sharper than Bri’s, monitored their patient, cut the healingstream when they were done. Bri wriggled her shoulders and Marian stepped back.

“She’s still very dehydrated and undernourished,” Elizabeth said, looking to Sevair Masif who stood near, and Marian translated. “You’ll ensure that she gets additional treatment?”

“Of course,” said a female dressed in a red robe with a white cross. A medical person.

“Good,” Bri said. The one word was harder to form than she expected.

“Next?” Elizabeth said in a too-brusque voice as if squelching fear. The healingstream was new to her. Elizabeth might have used a surge of healing energy from herself, or touched on the stream, but had never opened herself to it.

Bri had been the one kicking around the world, finding herself in villages or refugee camps with people who needed help while she only had her hands and the healingstream to depend upon. Many times that had not been enough. Then she grasped a wispy thought of Elizabeth’s. She was thinking how she’d shut herself and her talent off and had depended only on her medical training, not her gift, except in rare instances. Many times all her knowledge and training had not been enough.

Once again Bri followed Elizabeth, and they began to establish a balance to handle the cycling energy. Elizabeth learned to open herself, Bri learned to limit and direct the healingstream. Marian stood behind Bri with her hands on her shoulders, steadying, supporting, but unable to join them.

By the time they’d helped six, Bri began to feel the whole jet-lagged incredible event-packed day wearing upon her and moved by rote, summoning the healingstream, sending it into sick bodies. She felt the shadow of Elizabeth’s thoughts as she studied and dismissed different diagnoses. Nothing was familiar about this sickness.

Somewhere between two hours and infinity they were finished and Bri was swaying on her feet. Elizabeth stood with the straightness of a woman refusing to give in to exhaustion then swung an arm around Bri’s shoulders and they were drawn to a moonlit opening to the courtyard. The cloister had been dark, too dark to work in, why had they?

“Light hurts the sick’s eyes,” Marian said, and Bri realized she and the other woman had shared enough of a bond for the Sorceress to pick up on her thoughts, even if they weren’t linked anymore. Dangerous.

“No,” said Marian. She bowed deeply, keeping her gaze on them. “I promise I will never hurt you. Either of you.”