The Pain Merchants

“Danello…”

“Do it.”

Just set the arm, heal the pain and sleep in a dry bed tonight. Gritting my teeth, I tugged on the broken arm and drew. I swallowed my gasp and tugged harder as the bone knitted, setting the arm back straight. My eyes watered, blurring the already spinning room.

“I’m right here, Nya.” Danello took my hand. The other was entwined in his da’s fingers.

I gathered the pain like Tali taught me, held it in a tight ball churning in my guts. “I’m OK. Are you ready?”

He leaned back, grip tight on the chair again, and nodded.

I pushed, a little at a time, letting him take some in and make peace with it before another shaft of pain sliced through him. My hands burned to my elbows, especially on one side. Danello shook, his skin white as mist. His breath came in short gasps at first, then lengthened.

I slid to the floor, my back against the bed.

“Danello, are you OK?” Jovan tentatively reached out a hand and cupped his brother’s shoulder. No one asked how I was, but Bahari glared at me.

“I’m fine.” Danello puffed out a breath and grinned. Pain tightened the corners of his eyes, but he hid it well. “Now the leg.”

I gave him half. Who knew how long he’d have to carry it? I’d never carried pain for more than two days and by then I’d been good and glad to be rid of it.

Jovan stepped forward, hands clenched at his sides. “I’m next.” His determined face challenged me to say no.

If only I could.

“It’ll be sudden,” I warned, “and sharp. Breathe through it and squeeze something. That helps.”

I drew quickly, moved slowly, the needle stabs along my belly hot but not unbearable. I kept a little. Maybe he’d be OK with what was left.

Jovan yelped as I gave him his da’s pain, but sucked in his bottom lip, hissing as he inhaled.

“Shallow breaths, Jovi,” Danello cautioned.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Jovan said as I let him go. He wiped his sweaty forehead and grinned at his brother. “I bet you cry.”

Bahari slid his glare to his brother, but he stepped forward anyway and grabbed the bedpost. He nodded sharply at me, like I’d seen the boxers do when the Fair came to town. “Do it fast.”

“Are you sure?” I whispered.

His eyes softened a little and he nodded. “Yeah. It’s only for a few days, right?”

“Right.” I kept a lot of his. He didn’t cry, but he came close. He also didn’t yelp or make a single sound beyond the same teeth-gritting hiss Jovan had made. Bahari shot a smug grin at his brother. “I did it.”

“The bravest twins in Geveg,” Danello said, ruffling their hair.

Halima stepped forward, a handmade doll clutched in her arms. “I’m brave too!”

“I’ll take hers,” said Jovan. Bahari looked as if he wanted to argue, but kept his lips tight together.

Halima pouted, glaring at them. “I can do it myself.”

“No you can’t.”

“It’s too hard,” added Bahari.

“Yes I can! You never let me do anything!”

“Halima,” said Danello softly, a shaking hand on her hair. “They’re right. It’s too hard.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I wanna help Da too.”

“Your brothers will need you to take care of them,” I said. I could handle another rib. It’d be a rough night, but I’d have a bed and Tali could take it all tomorrow first thing. I could even come back after and get the rest. Stealing a few heals was better than hurting folks, and worth risking a trip or two back to the League. “Do you think you can run the house for a while?”

“Uh-huh.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with the arm of her shirt. “I’ll take good care of us.”

“Danello, I can—”

“No,” he said. “I know you kept some pain. Our deal was we take that from you too. You can’t heal well if you’re hurting.”

I nodded, even though I didn’t know if that were true or not.

“We can share it,” Jovan said quickly, giving me that stare again. “Don’t tell us we can’t. She’s not your sister.”

I glanced at Danello and he nodded. “OK, who’s first?” Jovan stepped up and dragged Bahari forward.

“Together?” he asked, clasping hands. Bahari looked at his sister and nodded.

I drew the last rib from their da, then placed a hand on each of their hearts. Under the pain, a faint hum like the one I’d felt in Enzie ran through them.

They were Takers!

Weak though, probably not even strong enough to work for the merchants or I would have sensed it when I first touched them. I glanced at their hands, gripped so tightly ten knuckles shone bright white. Linked twins. Did their talent grow stronger when they were linked? I’d never heard of that before, but then I’d never heard of a shifter until I first did it, and neither had Mama. They probably didn’t know what they could do yet. Couldn’t know or they’d try to take more pain from their father. Jovan would anyway.

Danello touched my shoulder. “Nya? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Just that his brothers were now at risk from fancy Trackers and the Duke’s new war. Most Takers started sensing pain at ten and were ready to start taking it by twelve. But with the siege on Verlatta, the Duke would need more Healers. He’d lost a lot of them fighting us, and he’d have no problem stealing children to conquer yet another city that didn’t want his rule. Just like he’d stolen from Sorille to conquer us.

“Are you sure? You look funny.”

I didn’t have to tell them. If no one knew, they weren’t in any danger. Even if someone checked them, they wouldn’t sense it unless the twins were linked. “I’m fine, really.” I turned to the twins, trying not to let Danello see my lie. “You two ready?”

They nodded, faces white as their da’s.

Neither made a sound this time, their eyes and cheeks bulging as they held back even the hiss. The lines of their da’s face had smoothed and he adjusted a little in his sleep. The twins settled down on the floor, gingerly prodding their middles. Halima watched them like they might suddenly turn inside out.

“When do you think our da will wake up?” Danello asked.

“Not till morning. He’ll be stiff and sore for a while, and probably mad as marshflies when he finds out what you did.”