by C. E. Murphy
Hester was halfway outta the car when I asked, and sat back again looking genuinely surprised. “I am. How did you know?”
“From what I know most shamans ain’t quite so gung-ho about fighting, is all. Healing, yeah, but I don’t get the impression most of ‘em are that good in a fight.” I knew what I was talking about, having watched Jo’s pal Coyote freeze up in a fight, and he was no minor leaguer in the mojo department. “So I figured you might be on a different path.”
Hester’s mouth twitched. “I’m told it’s my personality. We do fight, all of us. But most of our head-on confrontation is in spirit realms, not in this world, and our battles are always on behalf of another. The few of us who follow the warrior’s path are part of a more direct war. This level of corruption is so high that I’d be more afraid of some of my brethren being contaminated than I would be convinced of their ability to succeed, if they fought it in a traditionally shamanic way.”
“You ain’t afraid of being corrupted?”
“I’ll die first.”
Some folks couldn’t say that without it sounding like bragging, or like it was a bit of nothing, somethin’ funny that they said just to get a smile. Hester wasn’t one of ‘em. She coulda been a soldier just then, somebody under orders who knew she was walking into a trap but also knowing it was gonna get other people out alive so long as she held on a little while. For a minute I looked between her and Annie, cut from the same cloth even if it didn’t look like it on the outside, an’ when I got outta the car I saluted ‘em both. I hadn’t done that for anybody in a long time. Hes looked like I was maybe pulling her leg, but Annie smiled and put her hand over her heart. That settled Hester down, and the three of us went together to meet the enemy.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The enemy was twenty-seven, acne-scarred, and dirty to his elbows in topsoil. Nothing about him looked dangerous except maybe the idea some’a that dirt was night soil. Annie, a couple steps behind me, was repeating something she’d said when she’d hired the kid: “I met him while I was volunteering at the hospital, for Heaven’s sake. He has Crohn’s disease. It’s been debilitating, but he achieved a remarkable recovery lately. I can’t see how he could possibly be a—a carrier for evil.”
“How much recovery, doll? Bedridden to walking out the door inside a day, that kinda thing?”
“Well, yes. He said he’s been making dietary changes…” Annie trailed off, finally suspecting something else mighta been going on there.
Truth was, a while back I woulda thought that was nothing but good news, nothing shy of a miracle. But Joanne had watched a kid dying of cancer walk outta the hospital, too, once a sorcerer had taken up with him. I didn’t figure most miracle cases were evil magic working its way in, but this time it looked mighty suspicious. The kid—Myles—straightened up like he was just now hearing us arrive. For a second he was all smiles an’ good nature, just like anybody given a second chance at life mighta been. Then he saw Hester an’ everything about him changed.
I’d long since lost the Sight Jo had laid on me. Didn’t stop me from Seeing the kid fill up with rage like he was pulling it from the boiling core of the earth. Once in a while Jo’s magic went like that, burning so bright anybody could see it, and I guessed that was what was going on with Myles. He lashed out with it. A black toothy ball of fury came tearing across the lawn at Hester, leaving burn marks behind.
For a lady who said she didn’t know much about shields, she sure knew how to put ‘em up for herself. Yellow and dark green shot up around her like the Northern Lights had come way down south to visit, an’ a shockwave like I hadn’t felt since Korea damn near rattled my teeth outta my head. Hester held her ground, and her drawing power was just as clear as Myles’s had been. The earth responded to her, too, all the strong young growth of trees an’ animals a quick cool rush against the core’s ancient fury. She threw it right back at him, no war inside herself about whether shamanic magic was made for fighting or not. I was gonna hafta talk to Jo about that, later on.
Except I was pretty sure that conflicted or not, Jo woulda caught the kid in the teeth with her magic and knocked him head over heels into the hedges. Hester’s nearly reached the kid, but another one of his tar balls flew out and swallowed Hes’s magic whole. Then she lurched, like that was a whole lot worse than taking a hit, and I reckoned maybe it was. Bracing yourself for a beating was one thing. Getting a bite taken outta your soul’s energy has gotta be something else. Hester kept her feet, but just barely, and Annie and me were both realizing somethin was gonna go wrong when the kid turned on us instead.
Turned on me, I reckoned, ‘cause there was recognition in his eyes when he saw me. A sneer smeared across his face, the kinda expression I’d seen on a lotta big fellas playing ball, usually right before they went down for good. I held on to that idea and stomped forward, getting between him and the girls. “Been a while, buddy.”
“You.”
One word, an’ it sent shivers up my spine and bumps dancing down my arms. If a word could kill, I’d have dropped dead right there, but I had a funny kinda confidence holding me together. I knew I was walking away from this one. I had years of future memories promising that. I’d been more scared in Korea than I was right now, even if mosta the time there I’d been a lot farther away from my enemy. I looked for one of Joanne’s cocky come-backs, an’ said, “Me, all right. How ‘bout you let that kid go and we try ta…”
Annie, a couple steps behind me, breathed, “Kill each other like civilized people?”
I laughed and muttered, “Somethin’ like that, yeah, doll,” back at her, and the sorcery-infested kid in our yard looked like none of this was going according to his plans. I guessed old folks weren’t supposed to make jokes when they were facing certain death, though I figured old folks were better prepared for it than kids. “You ain’t gonna win this one, son.”
He bared his teeth in a smile. “I’ve already won.”
I gave him a smile just as toothy in return. “Forward, the Light Brigade, buddy. You don’t win ‘til there ain’t a breath left in my body to fight with.”
The kid pointed a finger at me. I didn’t see anything coming at me, but pain shot between my eyes, a red bolt sizzling its way through my brain. I yowled like a cat in heat an’ leaned into the pain, expecting that was just the warm-up act and that things were gonna worse from here on out. The kid smiled again and swirled his hands together, calling up another ball of black magic. I liked that better’n the finger-pointing, cause at least I could see it coming.
Annie stepped right in front of me, like she was getting between me and a patient who’d gone a little crazy. “What happened, Myles? Were you given a choice? Your life for mine, or did you not even know you were making the trade?”
All the power the kid was pulling up kinda hiccuped an’ stopped growing. It didn’t stop swirlin’ furiously in his hands, but there wasn’t more of it, an’ that was something. I had to hand it to my girl. A handful of words and she had the kid’s attention a way I’d have never gotten it. A lifetime wasn’t enough to tell her how amazing she was. She kept talking, calm and soft. “It’s all right, you know. I’m not in any hurry to die, but I’m seventy years old, and you’re not even thirty yet. I’d understand that choice. At my age, I might even make it too, for you, or for someone else your age. I’d make it for someone younger, a child, in a heartbeat. But life doesn’t work that way, Myles. If we trade someone else’s health for our own, there’s usually a great cost. Kidney transplants are miraculous, but they’re hard to recover from.”
“I didn’t need a kidney. I needed—I needed—”
“Time,” Annie said. “You needed to be well. You needed a chance at a future, and you’d tried everything you knew how. You ate well. You exercised, when you were strong enough. You let them take parts of your intestines away, and accepted the chance you would never be able to risk the doctors rebuilding them, and that you would spend your life with a bag taped to your side.”
“All of that, it was so much work, so much trying to survive, so much compromise and hope…and it didn’t work. You’re still in pain. You’re still withering, and no one your age should be withering. You still can’t eat without being terribly cautious, and you still weigh far less than a young man your height and age should. And then the offer comes, too good to be true, but you have nothing left to lose, and overnight you’re strong again. Stronger than you’ve been in years. You can work outside, you can eat what you choose to. And perhaps all you have to do is visit me, though I doubt it was even that obvious. You have a green thumb, and it still makes plants respond, and now you’re possessed with the strength to garden again. Possessed,” she said, real quiet. “We never mean it when we say that word. But you are possessed, and it’s easy enough for something evil to take your strengths and turn them to its own ends. A talent for growing things might grow illness inside someone’s lungs, if it’s turned to black magic.”
“There’s no such—!” The kid cut himself off, staring at the magic he was holding in his hands, then threw it away. Not at us, but away, like he was tryin’ ta get rid of it. It crawled back toward him, climbing up his legs, writhing around him, sinking back into his skin like he’d never be able to get rid of it. His eyes snapped up again, all the fire coming back. “So what if I did? Do you know how much trouble he causes? If I could just get rid of him, everything could be different. I could be different—”
“It don’t work that way, kid. You get rid of me and everything’s gonna be different, yeah, but not the way you hope. Maybe you never get born, if you get rid of me. Maybe the world’s overrun by zombies, if you get rid of me. Maybe the Dark Ages never end, if you get rid of me. But it don’t matter, because here’s the thing, kid. You can’t get rid of me. Your master’s been tryin’ a long damned time, and all that’s come of it is us four standin’ here right now, playing out some cruel bastard’s schemes. I promise you, son, killing Annie prob’ly ain’t gonna save your life, and it sure as hell ain’t gonna save your soul.”
“What choice do I have?”
“There’s always a choice, son. There ain’t always a good one, but there’s always a choice.”
“Dying’s no kind of choice.” Power exploded outta the kid’s hands again, a lifetime of hurting giving way to finally being able to do something about it, even something destructive.
Annie an’ I both hit the ground, a tar ball sizzling over us, and Annie turned her head to look at me. “You’re going to have a great deal of explaining to do at some point, Gary.”
“I know, darlin’. But not right now, all right?”
Another burst of magic came flying our way and we scattered again, rolling across the lawn and coming up grass-stained. “Really?” Annie was about as solemn an’ serious as she could be, through huffing for air and scrambling around on the ground. “Really? Not now? Are you sure? Because I think now might be a good time to talk—”
I hadn’t been paying any attention to Hester at all. Neither had the kid, not until she stepped up behind him an’ grabbed the sides of his head with her hands. They both shouted, an’ the whole world went red an’ yellow around us.
Truth was, I barely saw the fight in the Lower World. We busted through and Hes got knocked away from the kid. Me and Annie grabbed each other and kept low beneath bursts of black magic exploding against Hester’s yellow an’ green. Annie kept right on talking to him the way she’d been doing in the yard, reminding him of who she was, of how they’d been friends, and of how he’d had it in him to fight his whole life long against his disease, and how she reckoned he had it in him now to fight this thing too.
The kid kept throwing looks toward Annie, an’ every time he did, Hester got one step closer to him. The air was so thick with magic it felt like breathing molasses, like breathing tar when the power rolled outta the kid. Hester was a blaze of light against the funny-colored sky, burning brighter than I’d have thought she could. Maybe she was stepping up, maybe having an enemy worth giving it all to brought out the best in her, or maybe she was stronger in the Lower World than in ours. Maybe it was Annie pouring her own heart an’ soul out, givin Hes a lift. Maybe it was me being there, a thorn in the boss-man’s side and praying to take the bastard’s plans apart.
An’ maybe, most likely, it was that the kid had a good heart, an’ that he was just so damned tired of fighting that he’d taken the chance he was given, but he couldn’t live with what it meant. Nothing evil could stay rooted in somebody who wasn’t willing to have it there. That was something I had to believe, and the kid had lost the willingness.
Hes stepped forward one more time an’ caught the boy in her arms as he fell. Black magic ran outta him like oil, seeping into the landscape, disappearing as fast as it had come, an’ the next breath we took was back at home in the Middle World. Annie scrambled to her feet and ran for the kid, shouting at me to call an ambulance. I ran for the house, wishing for the first time in my life I had a cell phone, an’ called 911 while standing at the window watching the women working on the kid. I guessed he wasn’t dead from how Annie kept shooting panicked looks at me, and I had a hell of a time explaining to the lady on the phone what exactly the emergency was. She got an ambulance on the way, though, and I ran back out to the yard.
Hester was giving the kid everything she had, power flaring over him in waves. Nothing about it looked or felt as strong as what Jo commanded. I wished again I could call her up and get her over here, but it was still three years too early, and nothing was gonna change that either. Annie, talkin’ over Hester’s head, said, “His whole system is shutting down. He’ll be lucky to live until the paramedics arrive.”
Hes snarled something, not even really words, just denying the truth we all saw. She kept him alive, anyway, or something did, and Annie got into the ambulance and drove away with the kid. Me and Hester sat in the grass, staring after the fading lights, until she finally said, “Your wife could have been a shaman herself.”
“I reckon she coulda been. Thought you said you didn’t have the chops to fight that thing.”
“I didn’t. Mrs. Muldoon is the one who kept him off-balance enough to let me in.”
“An’ all I did was sit on my duff an’ watch.”
“What are you, Mr. Muldoon?”
“Outta time, doll. I’m outta time.” I didn’t reckon she’d hear it quite the way I meant, but either way it didn’t matter. Best I could hope for right then was they’d somehow saved the kid, that maybe his life was gonna turn out a little better, for as long as it lasted. I didn’t see much in the way of a happier ending coming outta any of this. Annie’d done what she had ta do, but it meant I was left counting the days, and then the hours, right down to the minute she’d left me, and I was gonna hafta go through it all over again.
Hester, not knowing more than that Annie was dying, got up, put her hand on my shoulder, an’ stood there a minute without tryin’ ta find the right thing to say. Then she walked away, an’ I never saw her again, alive or dead.
Annie came home ‘round midnight, and only shook her head, telling me not to say anything, when I mighta asked about the kid. We slept late, an’ when she woke up she stayed nestled beside me, taking careful breaths and listening to her own chest rattle with a clinical ear. “I’m breathing more clearly. It’s easier than it was yesterday, before the spirit quests. But I can still feel the weight of it in me, Gary. I’m not going to beat this, not in the long term. You have to promise me something.”
“Anything, darlin’.”
“Help Myles out, if you can.”
“What? He ain’t dead? I thought—”
; Annie shook her head. “I was too tired to talk about it last night, but Miss Jones…well, I suppose she healed him. I hope it was she, and not that…thing.”
Feelin’ pretty confident, I said, “If it was that thing riding him he wouldn’t have come outta this alive. Pretty sure being possessed burns a fella out. I don’t think he woulda recovered from it, or anything else, if Hes hadn’t been there. So what’d she do, put his guts back together? Ain’t Crohn’s genetic?” I’d been underestimating Hester’s power, if she could do that. I wasn’t sure Jo could.
Annie shook her head again. “If there’s a genetic component, no one has found it yet. No, the surgical procedures are still in place, but by time I left the hospital last night none of his system was inflamed any longer. He hadn’t been that healthy when he left the hospital. He’d only been in remission, but Crohn’s does that. It flares and fades, so while it had been a remarkable recovery, there were still signs of it in his body. Last night the doctors couldn’t find any evidence that there had ever been a reason to give the poor boy an ileostomy. So whatever’s happened with him, whatever happens with me, Gary, if you can, help Myles out. This is going to be very hard for him.”
“An’ you think it ain’t gonna be for us?” I had just enough smarts to say us and not me, but Annie saw through it anyway an’ tucked herself closer to me.
“I know it will be.” That was all she said. It was all either of us said about what was coming at us fast, ‘cause there wasn’t much else to say. She got weaker as the days went on, until I realized for the second time that she was holding on, waitin’ for our wedding anniversary. I’d been slow figuring it out the first time, and was just as slow the second time around, ‘cause I was trying hard not to think about anything but the last hours I had with her. We had strawberries on waffles in a room full of roses, same way we’d had ‘em every morning of our anniversary since the first one, an’ then, finally, she said, “I think I should go to the hospital now.”