The River's Gift Read Online Free

attention, and
then he coughed. It was a nasty sound, indeed, and she immediately knew it
wasn't a healthy cough.
    "If
ye please, mum," the little man said hoarsely. "If ye'd be havin'
anythin'—"
    "Of
course!" she replied, instinctively dropping down into a crouch so that
her face was level with his. She fished out her packets of herbs and made up
two sets, tying them up in two large leaves with a bit of grass.
"Here," she said, handing him the first, done up in plaintain.
"You take this, put it in boiling water, and breathe the steam as often as
you can. Then you take this"—she handed him a packet done up in a dock
leaf—"and you make tea with it, and drink it with lots of honey. Wrap up in
wool and keep yourself very warm, and if the cough hasn't gone off in three or
four days, come back and see me."
    The
little man's gnarled, brown face was flushed with gratitude. "Thenkee,
mum," he said, and then—vanished. She hadn't even blinked her eyes, and
he was gone.
    She
stood up, slowly, and turned when she heard something like a chuckle behind
her.
    There
stood Merod, coat shining blue-black in a shaft of sunlight driving down
through the tree-canopy. :He won't be the last of your patients, mor— Ariella,: the Kelpie said in her mind. :They trust you now.:
    "Because
I didn't hurt you?" she asked, settling herself on the riverbank and
dangling her feet in the cool water.
    :Because you kept your
word,: Merod
corrected her. :And now both Underhill and Overhill are open to you.
Now you may come and go, and look and know, and no door shall be locked against you.:
    So
it proved, as the summer days passed and Ariella found herself playing
physician to a bewildering variety of uncanny creatures. She splinted broken bones, treated wounds, and dosed fevers.
She tended odd little babies, in cradles that looked to have been grown rather
than carved, for croup and colic and all the little ailments that made human
babies fretful. She learned that when you tend to a tree-spirit, you must also
tend to her tree; that an otter-maid is as full of mischief as a
"natural" otter; and that a sylph could only take in medicine through
the air. All of her charges healed with unbelievable swiftness, and it wasn't
often that she needed to use her magical powers to mend them, for they had a
touch of that gift themselves. It was only when the hurt was caused by the hand
of man—usually due to the touch or presence of iron—that she had to exert that
touch of healing to set things right.
    Over
the course of time, Merod thawed, and soon they were true friends. Indeed, she
had never had a real friend, for there were no young people of her own age and
rank anywhere near Swan Manor, and Lady Magda would not consent to let her even
speak with those below her, as she used to do when she was a child. Of course,
all the young people of her age were far too busy working in the gardens and
fields, tending flocks and herds, and hard at labor at loom, dairy, kitchen, or
elsewhere to have any time for friendship with Lord Kaelin's daughter. She had
not realized how lonely she was until she met Merod, who seemed to be the tacit
leader of all of the Faerie hereabouts.
    There
were none of the Great Ones of Faerie present in her forest, somewhat to her
disappointment; according to Merod, there was too much Cold Iron about for them
to be comfortable, so she never saw any of the tall, proud, and fearfully
beautiful Elvenkind. But the lesser spirits were here in abundance.
    :It is because your
father treats the land with kindness, and he is generous and thoughtful,: Merod told her as they strolled together
along the bank of the river one sunny day. :And he
treats his people with kindness. They are happy, the land is happy and healthy,
and we can flourish. Other places are not so good for us.:
    "How
is that?" she asked.
    :Where there is greed and misery, such dark thoughts drive us away—and sometimes open
the doors of Underhill to the Dark Faerie.: Merod wouldn't say