Earthwitch

9. Wenyanga

Traditionally, doctors entered the operating room first, but this was soul surgery, the patient was a Judge, and the operation was taking place in a badly swept guest room. Wenyanga walked in first with Thula's hand in theirs.

A large bed took up most of the floor. Everything else had been hastily removed. Sunlight strained through moth-eaten curtains, casting dusty yellow beams across the dimness -- and the figure guarding the foot of the bed. 

She stood perfectly still, swathed in layers of silk that bled from pink to scarlet, face hidden under a cowl so big it drooped over her shoulders. Slim fingers peeked out from under billowing sleeves. No weapon. Not that it mattered.

Wenyanga didn't need their third eye to spot a Perfect soul.

"Ah, a Kinosage," they said. "Not an obvious choice for a bodyguard, but an inspired one."

Wenyanga felt the tingle of a powerful gaze moving over them. The figure's stoneiris glowed like a white hot diamond, then faded. She pulled back her cowl, revealing the weight of her stare squatted on Wenyanga's shoulders.

"How did you know?" the Kinosage asked, and the accusation in her voice was not subtle.

Wenyanga pointed at a beam of sunlight. Specks of dust sat frozen within it, as if suspended in ice. The Kinosage sighed and the air moved again. After a moment, Thula took a deep breath.

Kinos aura was an odd choice for most. Not as stable as the elements, less versatile than hybrids, and so flimsy only true masters could harness it for more than a few seconds at a time. It was the magic of movement, and one of the hardest paths to ascend with. Wielding it took patience, creativity, and a rare level of insight.

Most aurics with the requisite talent chose to follow more sensible paths -- like Death.

"Respectfully, you should pick a fight with someone who isn't here to save his soul," Wenyanga said, pointing at the bed.

Malice flickered in the Kinosage's glare, but only for a moment. Fine. So long as the weight of her focus was on Wenyanga, it wasn't being aimed at Thula. 

When are bodyguards ever this pretty? they wondered. Or volatile?

Those silk robes moved with an invisible breeze, each layer rippling like weeds under water. The flaring helped to conceal a slight frame, but that didn't mean much when you could command a heart to stop beating, or change the currents flowing inside a person's ear. 

And why would a Judge hire a guard at all, least of all a Perfect?

"The dust is no good for my eyes either," Thula said, holding out a white cloth.

Only then did Wenyanga see the rawness in the Kinosage's eyes, red lines on honey-brown irises. Thula had given her the grace of blaming the dust. Even then, Wenyanga didn't trust their foresight until they saw the sage accept the handkerchief in real time.

"Doctor Thula," said Thula, bowing. "And this is Seer Wenyanga."

"The squinting kind," Wenyanga said.

"What kind of Seer?" the Kinosage asked, a breath too late. Her eyes narrowed. "Ah, that kind."

"It helps in unpredictable situations, like soul surgery. Speaking of which..."

Thula coughed. "I believe what my partner is trying to say is that we are honoured to meet a Sage of the Kinetic Arts, and to offer our help at this delicate time. With your permission, of course."

Wenyanga's frown twitched. In such delicate times, doctors only asked permission from one of two people, and the Kinosage didn't have the look of a parent.

"Salleh," she said, nodding slightly to Thula. "Thank you for your offer, but I've told Sanele repeatedly that a Judge's passing should be handled by royal physicians."

"We're more than qualified for a soul extraction," Wenyanga said, ignoring the howling wind that passed through their head. "In fact, the next qualified person won't get here before his soul explodes."

"It's not just his soul," Salleh said. "His stoneiris needs to be preserved too."

Thula wrung the handles of her kit. "I'm afraid trying to save a soul and a stoneiris raises the chances of destroying both."

"And killing everyone in this damned town," Wenyanga added. "Besides, by law, a Judge's soul becomes state property upon death. It'll end up with the Paramount anyway."

"And by law what happens to the rest of him is my burden." The handkerchief disappeared in Salleh's fist. "And that includes his stoneiris. If you can't save it--"

Wenyanga flexed their fingers. "We never said all that, only that it's a risk."

"Then take it, or leave."

The air was still again.

"We will do our best," Thula said with an anxious look. "But I have a duty to inform you... in the process, we will be privy to all the Judge's memories."

"His memories are all I care about," Salleh said. "Help me preserve them. Please."