“But, he’ll see. He’ll know about…” Tula squeezed her arms together.
“I already know,” Leif said.
He pulled Tula’s arms away from her face with a gentleness that amazed me. I thought back to my mother’s comments about Leif’s magic. She had said he helped with crimes, sensing a person’s guilt and history. Now, as I watched him with Tula, I wanted to know more about him and how he used his magic.
“We need to find him and stop him from hurting another girl,” Leif explained.
She swallowed and bit her lip before nodding. Leif stood between our beds, took Tula’s hand, and reached for mine. I reclined on the mattress and grabbed his hand. Then, using his energy, I formed a mental link with Tula.
In her mind, the two of us stood by a gray stone furnace. Leif’s power roared around us like the fire under the kiln.
“I was here, putting coal into the furnace. It was close to midnight when…” She clutched her apron. Black soot streaked the white fabric. “A dark cloth wrapped around my face. Before I could scream, I felt a sharp stab in my arm. Then…then…” Tula stopped speaking.
On our mental stage, she stepped toward me. I hugged her trembling body, and within the space of a breath I became Tula, witnessing my own abduction.
Numbness spread from the stab wound, freezing my muscles. Dizziness was the only indication I’d been moved. Time passed. When the cloth was removed from my face, I was lying inside a tent. Unable to move, I stared up at a lean man with short brown hair that was streaked with gold. He wore only a red mask. Strange crimson symbols had been painted all over his sand-colored skin. He held four wooden stakes, rope and a mallet. Feeling returned to my limbs.
“Tula, no. I can’t,” I said in my mind. I knew what horrors threatened to come. I lacked the strength to endure them with her right now. “Just show him to me.”
She froze the image of the man so I could study the symbols. The circular patterns resided within bigger patterns of animals. Triangles traced down his smooth arms and legs. Though thin, he radiated power.
A complete stranger to Tula, everything about him seemed foreign to her. Even the harsh way he pronounced her name, emphasizing the la, sounded odd. But he knew her. Knew the names of her sisters and parents. Knew how they melted sand, working it into glass.
Then, in a whirl of sound and color, she showed me the man at different times. She wasn’t permitted to leave the tent, but whenever he entered or left, Tula caught a glimpse of the outside, a tease of freedom. Long thick grass filled the whole view.
When he came to her, he always wore a mask. Letting the numbness in her body wear off before beating or raping her. Letting her feel the pain he applied with seeming reverence. After he finished the torture, he took a thorn and scratched her skin.
Puzzled at first by this action, Tula soon learned to dread and to crave the ointment he would rub into the thorn’s bleeding gash. It was the numbing lotion that would paralyze her, taking away all her pain and any chance she might have to escape.
The ointment, though, had a strong crisp scent, similar to the sharp smell of alcohol mixed with a citrus perfume. The aroma remained around me like a poisonous fog as Leif’s energy waned. He broke the magical connection to Tula.
“That smell…” Leif said as he perched on the edge of my bed. “I couldn’t get a good whiff. All my effort went into keeping you and Tula connected.”
“It’s horrible,” Tula said, shuddering. “I shall never forget it.”
“What about those symbols?” I asked Leif. “Did you recognize them?”
“Not really. Though there are some clans that use symbols for rituals.”
“Rituals?” Dread coiled in my stomach.
“Wedding ceremonies and naming rituals.” Leif scowled in concentration. “Thousands of years ago, magicians used to perform intricate rituals. They believed that magical power came from a deity, and if they tattooed their bodies and showed the proper respect, they would be granted greater power. Now we know better. I’ve seen some symbols painted on faces and hands before, but not like the ones on Tula’s attacker.”
Leif pulled his black hair back behind his head with both hands. With his elbows jutting out past his face, his posture seemed so familiar. I felt like I could transport back to a time when my concerns only focused on what game to play next. The faint childhood memory dissolved with my efforts to concentrate on it.
Tula covered her eyes, silent tears spilling down her cheeks. Reliving the kidnapping and the torment had to be grueling.
“Get some rest,” Leif told her. “I’ll come back later. Perhaps Second Magician will know something about those symbols.” He left the room.
The morning’s events had drained my own small supply of energy. I knew words would give no comfort to Tula, so I was relieved when Opal came in. Seeing her sister’s concern, Tula sobbed loudly, and Opal crawled into the bed with her, held Tula close and rocked her like a baby. I fell asleep listening to Tula purge her body of the masked man’s poison.
We had visitors throughout the rest of the day. Cahil came, smelling of the barn.
“How’s Kiki?” I asked, missing her. Even though my connection with her remained, I couldn’t produce enough power to hear her thoughts.
“A little agitated. All the horses are. The Stable Master’s been in one of his tempers. Horses take their cues from people’s emotions. If a rider is nervous, then the horse will be, too.” Cahil shook his head. “I still have a hard time believing you can communicate with them. Guess today is just one of those days where my notions are proven wrong.”