Ghost Moon

by Rebecca York

  Griffin made a strangled sound. “This picture blesses me.”

  “And Zarah will be blessed as well when she finds out that you are safe and sound here. When we went through the portal, you were leading Baron’s soldiers away from us. We didn’t know what had happened to you. She was very worried.”

  “I led them into a rock outcropping—and attacked them as a wolf.”

  “Thank the Great Mother.” She looked out the window at the guards in the courtyard. “Things are no better here than when I left, are they?”

  “They’re a little better. I was able to kill Baron before he killed me.”

  She winced.

  “Assassination is a crude political tool. But he was the one who tried it first. In this case, it’s no loss. Some of his followers are still making trouble. But I expect to end the mess soon.”

  He tipped his head to the side. “Zarah sent you back?”

  She took her lower lip between her teeth. “She wanted to know you were all right, but I came here with my own problem.Something impossible to fix in Logan’s world.”

  He was watching her closely. “Something that requires psychic ability?”

  “Yes.” She took a gulp of air, then began speaking rapidly,telling him about Caleb Marshall’s ghost.

  When she finished, he looked at her differently. “You want to save him.”

  “His soul will be nowhere if this body dies.”

  Griffin pressed his fist against his chin. “But a werewolf who cannot change may not want to live.”

  She swallowed hard. “I hope I can convince him that life can still be good.”

  Griffin nodded. “I will send a cart. And guards. And I will send for the woman, Pamina, who has healed some of my people.”

  “Thank you.”

  “She taught us some things. But I think she keeps many of her techniques secret.”

  “I understand.”

  “You might not like her method.”

  “I don’t think I have a choice. And thank you so much,” she whispered.

  “Thank you for the pictures of my wife and my son,” he answered.

  “I’m glad I could bring them.”

  When she raised her gaze to his face, she saw his eyes were moist. Looking away, she said, “I left Caleb tied up. Hours ago. I must go back and get him.”

  “I don’t want to send my men out into the badlands until you speak to the healer and tell her the problem. We need to know if she thinks she can help your friend.”

  Quinn nodded, though she wanted to order men and a wagon outside right away.

  Griffin called in the captain of the guards and made the arrangement. Quinn started to pace back and forth while she waited. But Griffin had a tray of food sent in.

  “Sit down. Eat. Rest. You already walked here from the portal. You have a long trip there and back again.”

  “I wish I could take the healer there.”

  “Too dangerous. She’s old, and if she were attacked, she might be killed.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m being selfish.”

  She sat down at the table and ate a few bites, but the food tasted like dust in her mouth, and she had trouble swallowing.She couldn’t help wishing that they had a motorcar. Then the trip would be a million times faster. But that wasn’t an option back in this universe.

  She was pushing food around on her plate when the door opened and a slim woman with long dark hair walked in. Griffin was behind her.

  “Quinn, this is Pamina. She’s the healer I told you about.”

  Quinn stared at the woman’s smooth face and dark hair. “But you don’t look old,” she blurted, then felt herself blush.

  “I’m sorry. I mean, I was expecting an old woman.” She feared the explanation didn’t help.

  Pamina gave a laugh that sounded like the tinkle of small bells. “I am old. But I use my talents on myself.”

  “Thank you for coming so fast. But we can’t get Caleb back here for several hours.”

  “Tell me what happened to him.”

  As Quinn gave a quick account of the problem, she felt the woman’s assessing gaze on her.

  “The body is rejecting his soul?”

  "Yes,” Quinn breathed, glad that the woman grasped the problem so well.

  “I do not know if I can cure him. But if the treatment is to be successful, I will need your help,” Pamina said.

  “I’ll do anything!”

  “A quick answer. But you may not like what I ask of you.”

  Quinn gulped. “Whatever it is, I’m willing to do it.”

  “We will see.”

  Quinn couldn’t keep a shiver from traveling over her skin. What was this woman going to make her do? Tell me now, she silently screamed. But she knew this was not the time to press for answers.

  Pamina reached inside the leather bag she was carrying and sorted through several dozen small cloth packets. She pulled out one and handed it to Quinn. “Mix this in water and have him drink it. It should help stabilize him—until the two of us can work on him.”

  “Thank you so much!” Quinn sniffed the small packet. It smelled pungent but not unpleasant.

  “A special herb blend that I make,” Pamina said.

  She thanked the woman again and tucked the mixture into the fanny pack. Griffin handed her a military canteen with a strap and a leather cup attached, which she slung over her shoulder.

  “Can one of your men ride ahead of the wagon with me?”

  “How will they find you?”

  “Do they know the approximate location of the portal?”

  Griffin stroked his chin. “That is a secret.”

  “Oh.”

  “But I can give them some landmarks along the way and near the portal.”

  “Thank you. When we find Caleb, I’ll send my escort back to tell the driver of the wagon.”

  “All right,” Griffin agreed. “Steph can go with you. He’s a good man.”

  Steph turned out to be the leader of the group that had am-bushedher outside the city walls. They left at once. After the wagon trundled out of the gate, she made sure the driver knew which direction to go in. Then she and Steph rode off toward the portal. It was a faster journey than the one she had completedearlier. But her heart was pounding as they approached the area. She wanted to call out to Caleb, but she knew that was dangerous. So she kept silent as she dismounted and led her horse into a small stand of stunted trees. The shadows had lengthened, and she hurried toward the half-standing house where she had left Caleb. At first she thought she had made a mistake. Then she found the makeshift ropes she had used to tie him up. They were lying on the ground.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “He was right there,” Quinn said, pointing to the spot that was now empty of anything but the dry leaves she’d piled there. “I tied him up, but he got free and wandered off.”

  “Or somebody cut him loose. Slavers, maybe,” Steph said helpfully.

  She struggled to damp down the sick feeling rising in her throat. “We have to look for him.”

  Steph glanced around. “We should split up. But be carefulthat nobody scoops you up.”

  “I will. And watch out. In his current state, Caleb’s dangerous.”

  Steph snorted, and started off to the left. He had gone only a few yards when a figure leaped out from behind a wall and landed on the soldier’s back.

  It was Caleb, and he wrapped his arm around Steph’s neck in a choke hold.

  Quinn ran toward them.

  “Caleb, no!”

  He grunted and brought Steph to his knees.

  She whacked him across the shoulder. “Get off. You’re going to kill him. ”

  “No. I’m here to help you,” he panted. “The colonel’s goingto kill you.”

  She didn’t have time to figure out what that meant, she only knew she had to save Steph’s life.

  She grabbed Caleb by the hair and gave a mighty yank. He cried out and whirled toward her.

  Steph reared up.<
br />
  “Don’t hurt him,” Quinn screamed.

  But the soldier had already brought his fist down on the back of Caleb’s head. He went limp.

  “Great Mother, no!” Quinn cried as she ran to Caleb. He was breathing, but his face had turned pale. “You hurt him!”

  “He was going to kill me.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, but he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

  Steph ran back to his horse, opened his saddlebag and returnedwith a shirt and rope. First they put the shirt on Caleb. Then Steph tied him up again. This time, Quinn was sure he wasn’t going to get away.

  “You stay with him. I’ll go back for the wagon.”

  “Yes. Thanks.”

  She sat down, propped her back against the wall, and gathered Caleb to her so that his head rested in her lap.

  Tenderly, she stroked his face.

  “Caleb. It’s me. It’s Quinn. You’re going to be all right.”

  She kept her gaze on him. “Wake up. Tell me you recognizeme. Caleb, I love you,” she whispered.

  He didn’t speak, and she fought back tears. But at least there was something she could do for him. With blurred vision,she pulled the canteen strap off her shoulder, then poured some of the herb packet into the cup. After adding water, she used her finger to stir the mixture, then sniffed. It didn’t smell too bad. And maybe Caleb wouldn’t care, anyway.

  She eased him up a little. “Can you drink this?”

  Once again, he didn’t answer, but when she held the cup to his lips, he swallowed a little.

  “That’s good. Drink a little more. We’re going to cure you.” Or she hoped so. She still didn’t know what Pamina would ask of her. But she would do it! She had to.

  Her total focus was on Caleb. She was laboriously giving him the herb-laced water when she heard a noise in the underbrushand looked around. The wagon couldn’t be here this quickly. Could it?

  Two men in rough tunics stepped out of the shadows, one coming from the left and one from the right. With her back against the wall, that left no escape route.

  “We’d better get you out of here,” the taller one said, “beforethat other guy comes back. That horse will come in handy, too.”

  She looked at them warily. Both had long straggly hair and a month’s growth of beard. Neither was the kind of man she’d want to meet out here in the badlands.

  “Who are you?”

  The man who had spoken laughed. “A friend.”

  “Oh, sure.”

  He gave her an assessing look. “You’re in good shape. I’d say you haven’t missed many meals. You’ll fetch a good price. But we’ll leave the man here. He’s too sick to be worth anything.”

  Quinn set the cup down. Her hand dropped to the fanny pack hidden by Caleb’s shoulders. Quietly pulling back the zipper, she eased the gun out, thankful that Steph had given it back to her. Odds were, these men had never seen a gun.

  “Best get away from me,” she said. “Before you get hurt.”

  “You can’t take the two of us.”

  “No more warnings.” She raised the pistol, and aimed for the speaker’s chest, then fired.

  He looked astonished as he went down.

  Caleb’s eyes blinked open, and a look of horror crossed his features as he struggled to sit up, the ropes preventing him from using his hands.

  “Jesus! We’re under attack.”

  When he got in her line of fire, Quinn tried to push him aside. “Caleb, down,” she cried.

  He lunged toward the weapon, and she was forced to smack his hand away.

  The other man saw her problem. With a snarl, he leaped toward her.

  Quinn’s only choice was to rear up so she could raise her arm over Caleb and fire.

  But the position was so awkward that the first shot went wild. And the slaver was almost on top of her when she pulled the trigger again and hit him in the shoulder. He screamed, his face a mask of fury as he reached for her throat with both hands. And now Caleb was in the way of her getting off another shot.

  Still encumbered, she tried to shove the attacker away, just as a horse galloped toward the house.

  She cringed back, but it was Steph. He slid out of the saddleand ran toward her, a knife in his hand. With a quick jab, he stabbed the slaver in the back, then pulled him off Quinn and threw him to the side.

  Caleb had quieted again.

  Quinn watched Steph walk to the first man she had shot and inspect the wound.

  “Carfolian Hell,” he muttered. “You used that weapon on him?”

  “Yes.”

  “It is powerful.”

  “I told you it was lucky you didn’t hit anyone. And it’s lucky for me you returned it.”

  He laughed. “Yeah. I came back when I heard the explosion.”

  “It’s a good thing you did.”

  She leaned back against the wall, tempted to close her eyes.

  “I should stay and guard you.”

  “You have to tell the wagon where we are.”

  His expression darkened. “Yes. But I hate to leave you again. It’s dangerous out here.”

  “Do it! The sooner you go, the faster you’ll get back here. I’ll lay Caleb on the ground and keep the gun in my hand.”

  Steph looked unhappy, but really, there was no alternative.He dragged first one man then the other away to the far side of the wall where Quinn couldn’t see them. Then he helped her put a heavy shirt on Caleb to keep him warm.

  “I’d better hurry. This isn’t a good place to be after dark.”

  Quinn looked up at the sky, seeing she didn’t have many hours of daylight left.

  “I’ll be all right,” she answered, hoping it was true. She looked down at the spilled water. Caleb hadn’t gotten much of it before the men had come out of the woods. Could she give him more?

  She mixed more of the herbs into the water. But this time when she tried to get him to drink, he wouldn’t cooperate.

  Mother, was he getting sicker?

  Exhausted and frustrated, she closed her eyes, then snapped them open again when she realized that dropping her guard was dangerous.

  So she leaned back against the wall, resting and praying that the wagon would arrive soon.

  Luckily, it had traveled faster than she’d expected, and the sun was still a yellow ball in the western sky when the soldiers loaded Caleb into the wagon.

  She sat in the back with him, trying and failing to get him to drink any of the medicine.

  By the time they arrived at Griffin’s house, Caleb was pale as death, and she wondered how long he could hang on.

  Griffin greeted them, then directed the soldiers to carry Caleb inside to the ground floor of the family quarters—to a small, candlelit room where Pamina was waiting. After they’d laid Caleb on a comfortable bed in the center of the room, Griffin said, “I’ll leave you alone.”

  The way he said it made her wonder what Pamina had told him.

  “Yes. Thank you for doing this.”

  “Close the door,” the older woman said.

  Quinn did as she was told. When she turned back, Pamina was beside Caleb, one hand on his chest and one on his forehead.Her eyes were closed, but she asked, “Did he drink any of the herbs?”

  “Only a little.”

  “Then we must hurry.”

  Quinn’s stomach clenched. “What are you going to do?”

  “You’ll see in a moment.” The old woman stepped away, and Quinn saw she had brought a piece of equipment with her. It was a wooden box with a crank on the side and a long funnel-like tube sticking up at one end. The box was decoratedwith faded gold scrollwork.

  She reached into her bag and took out what looked like a can of food from Logan’s world. But it wasn’t metal, and when she opened it, she took out a cylinder, which she fitted into a slot in the machine.

  “This machine was invented by a man named Thomas Edison,” she murmured.

  “A record player? I’ve heard of it.” In fact, Logan had told her
about Thomas Edison, and she realized he must have existedin both universes before her world had changed.

  “This uses a wax cylinder.”

  She turned a crank on the machine, and low, haunting music filled the room.

  “What does that do?” Quinn whispered.

  “Gives him auditory stimulation. He needs as much stimulationas possible. Incentive to come back to this body.”

  “What else?”

  “Physical sensations. And enticements. We must lure him with the things we know he wanted. Things he cannot have unless he returns to this body.”

  “He wanted revenge,” Quinn said.

  “That may not be his strongest need. Each case is different.If he were a child, I would make him want to nurse again at his mother’s breast. That is a primal need for the young. But he is not a child. We must use other channels. What does he like to eat?”

  “Meat, and bread with jam,” she answered, wishing they had shared more than one meal so she could give a better answer.

  Pamina went to the door and called for a servant. In less than two minutes, she had bread and jam sitting on a small table and a piece of meat roasting on the fire. The aroma filled the little room.

  Turning back to Quinn, she said, “Smear some jam on his lips so he can taste it.”

  She did, smelling the aroma of strawberries. When he licked his lip, she felt a little spurt of hope.

  “Help me undress him. His shirt first.”

  Quinn unbuttoned the shirt Steph had given her. Standing on either side of the bed, she and Pamina pulled Caleb’s arms out of his sleeves, then she lifted him up a little so the other woman could slip the shirt over his head. When they had laid his head back on the pillow, they worked on his sweatpants.

  His body lay absolutely still—pale and naked on the bed.

  Pamina brought a basin and a sponge. “Wash him,” she said. “So he can feel that sensation.”

  Quinn dipped the sponge into the water and washed the front of him. As she did, the other woman unfolded a fan, waving it over his damp body, making him shiver.

  “The body is responding,” she murmured.

  “Yes. But is that enough?”

  “Not nearly enough. Dry him off.”

  Pamina’s gaze was like the blade of a sword as she peered at Quinn over the naked man who lay between them. “Somethingyou neglected to tell me in your account. Did you make love with him?” she asked.