Lora of Two Worlds

When Daphne ate the poisoned barley, she hadn’t eaten much. Most of it she’d kept clutched in her hand, and that had gone into the river with her jump.

Bring it all up now? How was she supposed to play the invalid all the way home?

But she was refusing so hard, and now ”fainted.” Even if Lora forced the spoon down her throat, she might hurt her.

Won’t vomit? You don’t want to die, you want to make a scene. Fine. I’ll treat you like a cow. Lora looked at Felix:

”My lord Sheriff, please take everyone out. Keep only four maids. I’m going to give Daphne needle lancing to make her vomit.”

Needle lancing?

”Little sister, what are you doing? When did you learn needle lancing?” Brendan frowned and tried to stop her.

”She took poison and jumped. Her life is her own affair. If you treat her, her life is on your hands. Can you carry that? Hasn’t today been embarrassing enough? Don’t bring more trouble on the house.”

”Brendan, how can you talk to her like that? She was pushed into the river. She didn’t poison herself and jump on purpose. How’s she the one embarrassing us?” Carl was indignant.

”Brothers, by chance, I once learned this emetic needle technique from a village herbalist. Trust me. I won’t do anything I’m not sure of.” This was for her brothers’ ears, and for Felix’s.

”I believe you. I’ll take the responsibility. Jonan, clear the cabin.” Felix’s face flushed. The words came out before he could think.

The word ”believe” had struck him. Daphne had done this foolish thing because no one believed her. Lora, who’d stepped forward with such quiet confidence, needed someone to believe her. He would.

As the crowd began to file out, Lora smiled at Felix, who was the last to leave:

”Thank you. She’ll be all right.”

Felix stood a moment, dazed. This Lora, so polite to him, wasn’t the little cousin who lived next door.

Once the two maids had Daphne pinned, Warwick had to follow Felix out. Lora began to untie Daphne’s sash. Daphne, abandoning her pretense of fainting, sat up and shrieked:

”Stop! What are you doing?”

”If she opens her mouth, pour the salted water down her throat. Same effect.” Lora didn’t even look at Daphne. She spoke to the maids.

Daphne clamped her jaws shut at once, glaring impotently.

Sash untied, Lora loosened Daphne’s tunic and skirt, bared her abdomen, then turned her back to the room, shielding the move with her body, and slipped the rose ring off her finger.

She pinched the head and tail of the needle and drew them gently apart. The Rose Needle hummed and straightened.

The whole needle was a full seven inches of gleaming silver, dazzling to look at.

It was going to go clean through Daphne.

Lora smiled.

Before she’d stepped forward, she’d thought it through. If Daphne wanted to play dead, she wouldn’t bring up the poison willingly. The only way was needle-induced emesis.

But what needle? Lora’s eyes had fallen on the rose ring on her finger.

Slip it off, pull it straight, and it became a silver needle. A needle this long was too much even for a horse, let alone a person. The point for emesis was the central-gate point, and the proper tool was a fine needle. The two were nothing alike.

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Her grandfather had been the licensed village farrier, but in the countryside medical care was thin on the ground, and when folk had small ailments or sudden illness, he, the farrier, often tended people as well as beasts.

Lora knew the locations of the human points, and the mnemonic verses for depth and effect were second nature. But she’d only ever needled horses and cows and sheep. Grandpa had never let her needle a person.

She hesitated, and, without thinking, tapped the needle idly against the back of her own hand.

The needle shrank.

Lora’s jaw dropped.

I’m an investment manager. I cross over into a medieval body, and my cheat gift is needle lancing?

She looked again. Aside from the little silver rose head still on top, the needle was now exactly the length and gauge of a fine human surgical probe needle.

She thought ”point at the palm’s center,” but laid the needle down near the ”Lesser Treasury” point. At once, her needle hand felt a strange tug, a gentle pull, drawing the needle slowly across her skin to the ”the palm’s center.”

She’d been right. The Rose Needle could find its point on its own.

Grandpa, you must be a god. Lora’s heart hammered. She shot a glance around. Everyone was watching Daphne. No one had seen.

She steadied herself. This is unlicensed practice. I can’t do it casually. I won’t shame Grandpa, and I won’t kill anyone.

The moment the needle touched her finger, it lengthened again, wound itself back into the rose ring, and settled onto her index finger.

That miraculous Rose Needle had given her, a part-time farrier, the courage to save a life. She’d heard Daphne and Warwick threatening the Sheriff, and stepped forward.

Lora tapped the needle against the back of her hand. The long needle shrank back to a fine needle. She held it, turned to Daphne:

”This is my first time needling a person. If you don’t hold still and I hit the wrong point, not my problem.”

Daphne stared at her in horror and opened her mouth to scream: ”Brother!”

The maid at her side had remembered Lora’s instructions perfectly. If she opens her mouth, pour the salt water in. The moment Daphne spoke, the maid tipped the salted water down her throat. It gurgled, and that was the end of the scream.

Lora centered herself. Her left middle finger pressed the central-gate point. In her mind, she named it. Her right hand drove the needle upward. Both hands worked with the breathing, pressing, lifting, thrusting.

The Rose Needle obeyed perfectly.

At last, Daphne began to gag. Lora pulled the needle at once, thought of the point at the pit of her stomach, and tapped it twice, fast. Nausea, terror, revulsion. Daphne couldn’t hold it anymore, and vomited hard.

When Lora had gone on rounds with her grandfather, she’d seen country folk who’d picked wild greens or wild mushrooms and given themselves food poisoning. This emetic needling was for patients who were unconscious and couldn’t be made to gag with a spoon.

Lora dared it because she had the Rose Needle, and because she’d watched Grandpa do it a hundred times.

Seeing Daphne finally bring it all up, Lora let out a breath. She grinned inwardly. You used to bully me at every turn. Today you wanted to use my reputation as a shield for your little drama? Tough. You’re the Rose Needle’s first guinea pig.

She glanced down at the needle, now a ring again. Its petals stood up pert and proud, pleased with its first outing, like a kindergartner waiting for a gold star from the teacher.

The little thing had a personality.

”While no one’s looking, drink some water and make yourself vomit a few more times. Otherwise, I can’t promise I won’t tell everyone that you ate only a dozen grains of poison and it couldn’t have killed you anyway.”

Before Lora finished, Daphne snatched the salt water from the maid and gulped it down.

Drink, gag, vomit. Twice more. The water came up clear. The stomach was empty. Lora had been right. Only the dozen-odd grains from the first bout had come up.

The maid washed Daphne’s face with a cloth and helped her into clean clothes. Lora opened the door.

”How’s the young lady?”

Felix had been waiting right outside. Again he felt that Lora had changed. The same slight frame, but the presence about her was far larger than before.

”The young lady is fine. Lord Salt, take the milk and egg whites in to her.”

She looked past him at Simon, then back to Felix: ”Whatever nonsense Daphne spouted, I don’t remember a word of it. Let’s pretend it never happened. I won’t be going to the sheriff’s hall. My lord Sheriff, please handle the rest.”

She’d changed her mind about sitting in on the depositions.

The two girls who’d been at the stern watching the view were at the back of the boat. Lora had gone into the water at the front. Both were all but cleared. The two who’d gone to the privy, unless they were lying in concert, or their plan was airtight, wouldn’t be caught out by mere depositions. And there’d be no torture. What was the point of her sitting in?

Brendan and Carl had already given their own statements to Jonan. They could go. Felix nodded to them, but when his eyes passed over Lora, he seemed not to know what to do with his hands. He bowed his head and said, low:

”Thank you, for today. I don’t know how it would have ended otherwise. Truly, I.”

”I’m the one who caused you trouble. Don’t take it to heart.” Lora dipped her head with a small smile, and followed her brothers out.

Something was off. Nothing had changed, and yet Felix’s heart was full of a strange, lingering sadness.

The three siblings were about to climb into the carriage when Carl realized someone was missing:

”Hey, where’s Anne?”