enough,' she explained. 'Providing the patient is conscious, able to think clearly, and willing, of course. For that matter, the 'cost' can actually be shared among several 'people,' such as the patient's friends or relations.'
He blinked at that. 'Really?'
'Well, think—it's not that different from using Talisman-power to do something that really does benefit everyone in the City,' she pointed out logically as she let go of his ankle and flicked a curious insect away with one hand. 'There—try standing on that foot now.'
He did, and was delighted to discover it didn't hurt and really did feel stronger.
I wonder what the cost was of healing me after the Hunt, though, he thought, when he suddenly remembered how badly he'd been hurt. He hadn't been conscious to consent to accept part of the cost—nor had he had a crowd of 'friends and relations' to share it with, either. What had the cost been to Idalia?
'And you know, of course, that the High Mages of Armethalieh do a fair amount of healing; at least, the common ones do. The difference between what the Wildmage does and what the High Mage does now is that the Wildmage is bound to tell the patient and anyone else potentially involved in a spell that she would like help in sharing the cost, and then ask formal permission to do so,' she continued. 'Whereas the High Mage just uses Talisman-energy he's already taken and stored, without asking permission.'
Something about the way she phrased that caught his attention. 'What do you mean, new?' he asked.
She looked up at him thoughtfully. 'I'm not altogether certain that the High Mages have always just taken power without the knowledge or permission of the people of Armethalieh,' she admitted. 'Maybe in the past, when the population was lower, they used to ask—' She shrugged. 'But to get back to what uie do, precisely because of the emotional connection, when the price is shared among a number of those who are connected with the patient, the price that the Wildmage pays is minimal.'
'What's 'minimal'?' Kellen asked suspiciously, sitting back down again.
'It depends on the extent of the injury, and how quickly it needs to be healed.' Idalia watched him from under her long lashes. 'If it doesn't need to be mended quickly, just mended without scarring or other permanent changes, then even the cost to the Mage is minimal, and it's all keystone work—which is one of the reasons you slept for a sennight, brother mine. If, however, it needs to be healed right that moment, then the cost is a lot higher, and a circle of supporters is a necessary thing. The more supporters, the lighter the cost, and it amounts to pain-sharing, usually, some personal energy lost, and a lot of weakness, because their strength is given to the patient just as their life-energy is—'
'Ahem,' Shalkan said from his usual observation point across the clearing. 'I believe that you are going to have an opportunity to demonstrate that very point in a moment.'
Idalia looked at him sharply, but before she could ask any questions, the underbrush at the edge of the clearing rustled and parted.
And Kellen had to stop himself from staring and gaping like a farmer on his first visit to the City markets.
He'd never even seen one unicorn before he'd summoned Shalkan. Now here was a whole herd of them! They slipped into the clearing, moving with the same uncanny silence that he'd come to expect from Shalkan; there were a dozen of them, at least, all dazzlingly white, all incredibly beautiful—
Except for the one in the midst of them, supported by a larger unicorn on either flank, and hobbling on three legs. The fourth leg dripped dark blood, and dangled uselessly.
'Kellen!' Idalia snapped. 'Go help that colt—I can't touch him—'
Kellen started, and hurried forward to lend his shoulder to the injured colt, who was quite young indeed, surely not even a yearling. The unicorn colt was clearly spent; his eyes were glazed with pain and exhaustion, and the glory of his coat and budding horn dimmed.
Idalia ran back to the cabin to collect a basket of herbs and other things. Kellen helped the poor trembling thing to kneel, then lie down; the left hind leg was broken, horribly so; two jagged ends of the bone had come through the flesh and the whole thing just hung limply in a way that suggested the pain must be nearly unbearable.
'He stepped into a rabbit hole while galloping, Wildmage Idalia,' one of the adults said gravely as Idalia knelt at the colt's side. 'Can you—?'
'Of course, and much more easily since my brother is here.' She nodded at Kellen. 'Little brother, I can't touch this young fellow without consequences; I can do the healing, but you'll have to do the manipulation to put the bones back into place.'
'Manipulation?' Kellen gulped. The mere sight of the mangled leg was making him feel sick, and he cringed inside each time it whimpered in pain. He'd been hoping he could sneak away; surely she didn't mean him to—
She did. 'You'll have to straighten the leg and align the bone and hold it in place while I work,' she said, and it was clear from her tone of voice that she expected him to agree.
