Soul Song ~ Book One

Chapter Seven

It took a month for enough Healers to be caught for Klellen's plan. Fifteen in total were brought in, their palms firmly bound to their chests in case they felt the urge to use their Magiks against their captors. They would have to damage themselves to the point of possible death in order to affect anyone else. The full moon was the day of promise for the people afflicted with plague. Praise and tears flowed freely from them to Klellen's ears. Each word, each tear let him know he was on the correct path. His path.

As each Healer was brought in, the voice inside Dania mourned. Piece by piece her conscience was being torn at. She looked to Lyla for direction, comfort, answers, but none came. The voices raised at night reflected her feelings, but the answering voice had only rebuttal. Klellen would not be moved. With hope that her thoughts added to Lyla's would help, Dania approached her just once. As she did more and more frequently, Lyla was sitting by the window in her room, embroidering dresses with tiny, perfect stitches. The work was beautiful and Dania wondered what they were for. Several were hung, completed and stunning. Each dress was of a different size. Dania inspected the exquisite handiwork up close, as Lyla, unlike her father, didn't mind her touching them. She wondered if any of them were for her. She hoped so, and would ask later.

"Lyla," she asked, breaking the silence.

"What is it, dear?" The needle continued to poke the fabric, never stopping even long enough for Lyla to glance at Dania.

"The Healers..."

Lyla's hands slowed, but didn't stop. "Yes?"

"Why must this happen? Is there no other way?"

When there was no answer, Dania turned to see Lyla's hands had finally stopped. Not certain what else to do, Dania stood, chewing on her thumbnail, waiting. Through closed lashes, a tear made its escape, making a tapping sound as it hit the fabric in Lyla's lap. With a sigh, she opened her eyes and returned to pushing the needle in its task.

"Sometimes, child, things happen that we cannot control or agree with."

Feeling a little awkward, Dania lowered her voice. "I hear you argue with Klellen..." she began but stopped as Lyla scowled.

"I'm so sorry you have to hear things like that."

"But I agree with you! Could you not talk to him again? Make him change his mind?" The question pulled Lyla's attention away from the embroidery and toward Dania. Uncomfortable with the pained expression on Lyla's face, Dania once again waited rather than charge forward with questions.

"I'm again sorry, Dania. My influences are few, and on this matter, they are none. We can only hope this travesty will not affect you and I."

"But, what if it does? What do we do then?"

"Then, we live with it. We are the women of this household. It is our duty to follow the men and do as we are meant to. More than that is not our lot in life." Picked up again, the needle returned to its work. Uncertain if she should leave or stay, Dania turned back to the dresses until she could make up her mind.

"Lyla?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Who are these dresses for? They aren't all the same size. And none of them look like they would fit me, although, this one is close." A choked out sob snapped Dania's head back around to Lyla. Tears that had been reluctant were now freely flowing.

"They're for the Healers, Dania."

Like they were suddenly on fire, Dania yanked her hand away from the beautiful dresses turned death shrouds. "How could you make these?" Maybe she had misjudged Lyla as a good person. Maybe she wasn't as far away from Klellen as she previously thought.