They had been such good friends…
As they rode home, Lenardo said, 'I fear Reading for Drakonius was not a good idea. Now Galen at least knows I'm still alive, and so does Drakonius. I may have brought your enemy down upon you.'
'You found out that he was already looking for you. At least we can be prepared. He will find you eventually; his watchers are as good as mine.'
'Those people-the watchers. They watch the weather, I know, and I suppose some go over and mingle among Drakonius' people to bring you information. But it's half a day's ride even from here to your castle, and more in bad weather. How do you get news through so fast?' 'Heliograph,' she replied. ' 'Sun-writing'? Is that an Adept trick?' She chuckled. 'You mean you've never played with a mirror, flashing light around a room?' 'Of course,' he said, still puzzled. 'Well, the watchers use the same thing, or a lantern at night, to flash messages from one hilltop to another. It takes only a few minutes to get a message from one end of the land to the other.'
'Then that's what I saw the day I escaped! And how Wulfston found me so quickly.'
'Of course. We sent out your description, and Wulfston was on the road soon after dawn. For as weak as you were, you got quite far, actually. You crossed the border into Hron's lands, but he is my ally, and so his people returned you.'
'Your system is as effective as having Readers, it seems -and almost as fast. We must relay messages too, when they have to go beyond a single Reader's range.'
'But Readers can do it without the rest of the world knowing,' said Aradia.
'If you sent out my description that day…' 'Drakonius may already know where you are.' 'Galen didn't know.'
'Drakonius may not trust Galen, and Galen cannot Read an Adept.' She rode silently for a few moments, then said, 'Lenardo, how well do you know his capabilities as a Readerr
'Very well. I was his teacher and often tested him.' 'I know you want to think he deliberately caused the avalanche-but can you assume for a moment that he didn't mean it? Suppose he was truly intent on destroying Adigia. Is he capable of misjudging, of making that kind of error?'
'Yes,' said Lenardo. 'I could have made it myself. I was Reading the fault and the stresses flowing through it. The vibrations spread in both directions through the mountain. I didn't know myself which way it would go. I remember standing there helplessly, willing it to go the other way…'
'And you feel responsible.' 'I told you. I was his teacher.'
'But the teacher must let the students grow up,' said Aradia. 'We hope it is when we feel they are ready, but sometimes they make their own decisions. And sometimes they're wrong. But we cannot stop them from making their own mistakes.' She smiled ruefully. 'Nor can I stop you from making yours. Come on-if we hurry, we'll be home by dark.'
Lenardo spent the next two days resting and meditating. The third morning, feeling securely himself again, he ate a light breakfast, bathed, and joined Aradia at her father's bedside.
As she had promised, Aradia had strengthened Menus' body. He was still a very sick man, but his heart beat strongly and he breathed evenly. If they could remove the tumor without doing further damage, there was a good chance he would live. But in what condition?
Presumably, Aradia's values reflected her father's. 'Life is the greatest value.' Lenardo had to assume that Nerius would want to live, even if the damage the tumor had already done left him blind, paralyzed, or otherwise crippled.
Aradia provided Lenardo with wax to make a model of Nerius' brain. Such modeling was part of a Reader's tram-ing, precisely for showing to non-Readers the things they could not see. Never, though, had he done work so delicate, so impossibly precise. He worked for hours, superimposing what he Read upon the softened wax in his hands, molding, carving, despairing of achieving the accuracy he had to have.
When he finished he was cramped with tension and fearful that he had missed something, somehow. He set the model down and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes.
'Are you finished?' Aradia asked with mingled hope and fear.
'I don't know,' he replied, pushing his hair back off his forehead-he really would have to cut it, as it was becoming an annoyance. 'I don't think I can make a more accurate model, but I fear it's- not good enough to guide you.'
'Show me.'
He had made the model in three parts, so he could take it apart to show the tumor, which he had stained with ink.
'It's close,' he said, 'but there is a limit to the accuracy human hands can achieve. If only you could Read it as well as destroy it…'
'Do you not know how frequently I have wished that these past few days? But I cannot Read. You must guide me. I'll get Wulf ston, and then we can begin.'
They started successfully enough, the two Adepts concentrating their powers on the center of the tumor. The bulk of the growth slowly but surely began to evaporate.
'Stop!' cried Lenardo, as Nerius' healthy brain tissue began to relax from its compression to fill the vacuum.
Violet eyes and brown stared at Lenardo from drawn faces. Both Adepts were breathing hard, their hearts pounding as if they'd run a long distance.
'What happened?' Aradia asked warily. 'You are succeeding, but the contour of the growth has changed.' Hastily, Lenardo remolded his wax model, say-ing, 'This is not as accurate, but-'
'We've removed that much? And not touched normal tissue?'
'That's right-but now the shape is changing even as I try to model it. You mustn't destroy normal tissue.'
'Lenardo… can you Read the purpose of various parts of the brain?' asked Aradia. 'What do you mean?'
'A head injury may mean death, paralysis, blindness, palsy… or no harm at all! I healed a man once who had a spear-point hi his head. All I could do was draw it out, stop the bleeding, and prevent infection. In three days he came out of the healing sleep and walked away as if nothing had happened!'
'It had entered the front of his head?' asked Lenardo. 'Yes-fortunately well above his eyes. But how did you know that?'
'We've never been able to Read precisely how the brain works, but over many years of study we have gathered some information, especially the peculiar fact that a very large area of the front does not have a function we can identify. However, your father's tumor is near the back, between the area which controls sight and that which controls muscular coordination. Hence his blindness and convulsions. Now the compressed tissue is moving back into place, blood flowing normally again… but I cannot Read what damage the nerve fibers have suffered. I have warned you that even if we save Nerius' life, I cannot predict what mental or physical function he will recover.'
'Perhaps we should not try to remove the rest of it,' said Wulfston. 'If we caused bleeding…'
'I know,' said Aradia, 'but I cannot leave it half done. Lenardo, show us the contours of the growth now.'
It had shrunk considerably as they talked, compressed by the brain tissue trying to expand to normal. It could not expand completely, of course, having atrophied. At last the movement seemed to stabilize. Lenardo worked on his model again, and Aradia said, 'These are the difficult parts -where the growth is entwined with normal tissue.'
'Also, you've been simply cutting off the blood flow as you removed the growth,' said Lenardo. 'You can't do that indiscriminately-you could cut off a vessel nourishing healthy tissue.'
Aradia chewed on her lower lip, studying the model again. 'Wulfston-'
'Aradia,' the young Adept said, 'I haven't that much control. I cannot trust myself to focus on such a small area!'
'Then strengthen me,' she said. 'I have to do it, Wulfston, or the tumor will grow back again. See that I do not falter.'
'Yes, my lady.' It was the first time Lenardo had heard Wulfston address Aradia in that fashion.
Aradia now took the wax model in her hands, looking from it to her father, studying carefully. // only I could Read what she was doing, Lenardo thought. But he could Read only the effects.
Lenardo watched the cells disappear as Aradia worked her way into one of the tendrils entwined with the healthy tissue, murmuring, 'More to the left… higher… no, you missed some… back to the right-left! Slower! There… that's it.'
