Den patted her back, rocking her as Dr. Ruiz made his way through the hole to the adjacent room. She sniveled, clinging to Den, feeling grateful as well as guilty she had gotten him hurt.
“I’m sorry,” she whined.
“It’s not your fault,” Den grumbled. “Where did he go?”
“It wasn’t him.” Althea switched from hugging to holding his hand and sat back on her heels. “The Many was inside him. That man wanted me to help his sister. The bad ones made him fight. He was sad.”
“I’m going to kill him.” Den jumped up.
“You can’t.” She looked up. “The bad part isn’t a person. I told it to go away. He’s already gone.”
Sporadic gunfire outside tapered off to silence. A few shouts sounded far off, likely at the city wall.
Den scowled at the bed. “What should we do with the woman?”
Althea blinked at him, hurt he’d even ask such a thing. “It is not her fault. That man loves his sister, and she did not try to hurt anyone. It would be wrong to punish her for what the Many did.”
“I will find him.” He started for the door, but she held on, sliding on her knees in the blood until he stopped.
“No. I don’t want you to get hurt. He is stronger than Shepherd.” She glanced at the hole.
Den growled.
She squeezed his hand. “Why do you feel shame? You protected me.”
His face flushed red and he stomped in a circle, away from her attempt to hug him again.
She stared at the blood on the floor—Den’s blood—and wept. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault he came here.”
A surge of embarrassment radiated from him. She reached for his hand, but he gave her a wounded look and ran out, almost colliding with a man and a woman from the Watch as they rushed in.
“Althea,” said the doctor, “Shepherd’s hurt.”
She crept over and peered into the hole. Shepherd lay on his back on the other side, blood covering his face. Althea clambered past the breached wall, tracking bloody footprints to his side. Her hasty attempt to stop caused her to slip and fall on top of him. He grunted.
“Careful,” whispered Dr. Ruiz. “He’s probably got a concussion.”
Althea spared a second to give him a confused stare before putting her hands on Shepherd’s bare arm. Her worry faded as concentration took over, and his life energy filled her awareness. Cracks marked a number of his bones, including his skull, but she sensed nothing wrong within his mind-shape. Thin black lines faded from the white as she forced his bones to knit. Her nose scrunched and a soft growl slipped past her teeth while she struggled to keep fragments of bone from scratching his brain on their way back into place.
Once everything felt right, she released the link and collapsed over his chest. A moment later, his huge hand pressed into her back and patted.
“Ouch. That had to be a damn doll. Skinny bastard was tough… and strong.”
His deep voice vibrated in her chest, bringing a smile. Shepherd took a few breaths and got up, cradling her in his arms. She caught herself about to nod off and whined.
“I’m not finished.”
He carried her into the hall. “You need rest.”
“She is going to die.”
Shepherd set her back on her feet when she started wriggling. Dr. Ruiz gave her a worried look as she stumbled over to the bed. The woman’s life felt weaker than it had moments before. Althea swayed in place, clinging to the mattress to keep from falling over. She crawled up onto the bed, lying next to her and cradling the limp arm. No sooner did her fingers make contact than an unsettling chill crept over her. A tainted presence permeated the woman’s body, one she recognized out of instinct as belonging to the specter that visited her in the garden.
Althea closed her eyes and opened her mind to the foul energies swirling around in the stranger’s body. The blood-shape had seeped into places it should not be, and many of her bone-shapes had become collections of splinters rather than solid. Several of the other blobby parts in the center looked burst as well. The darkness concentrated around the areas most damaged. Her initial assumption—that it fed on the pain—proved untrue. The instant she forced the evil substance out of her, the woman lapsed into convulsions as all her inner bits failed at once.
Power coursed down Althea’s arms. Every bone in her body throbbed from overextending herself. Her attention leapt from one shape to the next, trying to repair each one a little bit at a time to keep any single blob from quitting altogether. The woman’s heart-shape wanted to give up and go still, but Althea commanded it to keep going. Pain snaked up her throat. Warmth spread over her mouth, blood running out of her nose. Time lost meaning to the urgency with which she funneled her energy into the fragile woman next to her.
As soon as she focused on the crushed bean-shaped lump in the woman’s lower back, the heart-shape started quivering like a lump of jelly Shepherd had just punched rather than how it should move. It stopped cold a second later. Althea redirected her attention to the heart-shape, nudging it back into motion, though it refused to keep a steady beat. Blood leaked inside her from too many breaks. She closed damaged blood-tubes like a cat chasing a panic-stricken roach: chest, arm, leg, neck, chest, and around again. The heart-shape throbbed in an unnatural, erratic rhythm and stopped again. Althea dared not break concentration to yell for help, emitting a telempathic pulse of distress instead.
She got the woman’s heart beating again, despite the stabbing pain in her own. Her lungs burned as though she had been running for hours. When a new hole pierced a thick blood tube in the woman’s arm, Althea wanted to scream in frustration. Fluid entered the woman’s body from that point; it took Althea a second to realize Dr. Ruiz must have put a needle in. She continued sustaining the heart while pushing herself to keep the other blobs together. Eventually, the incoming liquid bolstered the blood presence enough to lessen the strain on the heart, though it felt too thin. At Althea’s urging, the woman’s body created more blood.
With the reassuring presence of a regular heartbeat, Althea resumed forcing the purple bits as close to the way they were supposed to look as she could while fighting the growing urge to pass out. Several frantic moments later, the woman’s life no longer seemed in danger of detaching from the body at any second. She still needed help, but Althea could summon nothing more. The link collapsed, and she managed to open one eye for a fleeting second. Father and Karina hovered over her.
“I don’t understand.”
Father put his hand on her forehead. “Shh, child. Don’t try to talk.”
“Evil… but it… helped.”
The room blurred to darkness.
Sunlight upon her eyelids chased away sleep, though her leaden limbs refused to move. Althea lay for a while, awake but still. The bed did not feel like the one she shared with Karina. The strange smell in the air told her she remained at the hospital.
“What happened to her?” whispered Karina. She sounded close by.
A chair creaked past the foot of the bed as Father spoke. “Ruiz said she worked too hard. She will be fine.”
“It is almost noon.” Karina ran a hand over Althea’s head.
She opened her eyes; her weak smile banished the worry from the face hovering over her. Althea reached up to touch her sister’s cheek but froze at the sight of a plastic tube connected to a needle in the back of her hand. Frightened by the presence of something stuck in her, she grabbed at it, but Karina caught her hand.
“Dr. Ruiz said it will help you. You get hungry when you help people, and you did too much last night.”
“It’s food?” Althea stared at the IV.
Karina shrugged.
“Food goes in the mouth, not the arm.” Althea frowned. Her stomach made its protest audible.
“I will get you something to eat.” Father got up and walked to the bed, holding her other hand. “You gave us a scare last night.”
“I’m sorry. The bad man was here.”
“He got away
,” said Father, anger clear in his quiet voice.
“No. Not that man. The old man from the garden. The Many.” She sat up. “He was inside.”
Father and Karina exchanged worried looks.
“Stay with her.” He patted Karina on the back and went out.
Karina fussed over her, using a damp cloth to wipe dried blood from Althea’s nostrils and off her face. She smiled, enjoying being cared for, until she noticed the late-morning sun outside.
“You’re late!” Althea clung to her sister’s arm. “You’re going to get in trouble.”
“It’s okay. They know.” Karina held Althea’s hand in both of hers. “They let me skip today so I could be here for you. Dr. Ruiz said you are going to be weak for a while.”
“I’m not hurt.” Her stomach growled. “Just hungry. Where’s Shepherd?”
“He’s working. The man’s unstoppable.”
Althea smiled. “Did the woman wake?”
“I don’t know.” Karina glanced behind her as Father walked in.
He set a plate of empanadas and leftover bacon from breakfast on the table near the bed. The scent of the food overpowered her disinterest in moving, and she swung her legs over the side, whining at the soreness all throughout her body.
“She woke for a short time, but only enough to mutter in a strange language.” Father’s serious tone broke into chuckling.
Althea hadn’t realized how feral she’d gone on the food until he laughed at her. She stared from the fork lying on the tray to two half-eaten empanadas, one clutched in each hand. Her voice echoed in her thoughts, making a deal with the ancestors that she would always use the fork if they allowed her to return to her family. The sight of the untouched utensil terrified her. Both pastries slipped from her hands and she covered her mouth, ready to burst into tears.
“Althea?” Karina sat next to her and put an arm around her back. “What’s wrong?”
“I promised.” She sniffled. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to. I don’t wanna go away.”
Father’s face reddened and his lip quivered. Karina squeezed her. Althea blinked at him. The emotion radiating from him was part love, but mostly the urge to laugh. Her confused expression punched the last crack in his attempt to hold it in, and he guffawed. She sniffled away a few more tears.
“Oh, Althea,” he said. “No one will take you away because you didn’t use a fork.”
“I didn’t listen when Karina told me to use it, an’ then I got taken away. I promised if I could come home I’d always—”
Karina picked up one of the empanadas and held it to Althea’s mouth. “It’s okay to eat these with your hands. We don’t use forks with everything.”
Father’s laughter grew infectious, and Althea giggled.
Althea hid behind the doorjamb, rubbing the back of her hand where the needle had been, watching the strange woman sleep. They had moved her to a different room, one without blood on the floor or a massive hole in the wall. She edged away from the door and took a step in, but Karina’s hand on her shoulder held her back.
“You need to rest.”
Althea looked up with a worried expression, whispering, “I have to make sure she is okay.”
Karina relented and walked with her to the woman’s bedside. Althea reached out, held hands with the sleeping figure, and closed her eyes. Numerous small fractures marred her bone-shapes, though she looked in far better condition than the previous night. Without the urgency of imminent death making her rush, she noticed thin, dark lines in the woman’s arms and legs—metal inside the body. She was too exhausted to purge that and figured she should probably ask the woman before removing the metal. Althea shivered. Some of the city people liked having that stuff inside them. That, she would never understand. One by one, she mended the last of the tiny hurts. Calling again on her power so soon left her winded even from the minimal amount of energy needed to seal the cracks. She checked for broken blood tubes, found none, and let go.
Althea held on to Karina’s arm for stability and followed her to the door. After a lingering glance at the poor woman on the bed, she let her sister guide her out of the hospital and back home. Karina insisted on an exception to the one-bath-a-week rule since she had dried blood all over her, which she feared would bring sickness. Althea hovered close as Karina hung two buckets over the fire to warm them. Father said they could have baths whenever they wanted once the Water Man got around to giving them one of the magic tanks—strange machines the city people offered that provided a constant supply of hot water without the need for fire.
Althea scowled at the thought of the ‘city stuff’ infiltrating Querq. She liked things as they were, but offered no protest as she followed Karina to the bathroom. By the time she sat armpit deep in warm bathwater, her stomach growled again. With no real food ready, Karina left her to wash while she fetched some baked treats from a neighbor. Soon, Althea nibbled on cinnamon cookies while her sister washed her hair.
They spent the rest of the day together, free of chores or farm work, resting in the shade of the porch and talking. Karina tried to introduce her to the concept of dolls, but Althea didn’t see the point in tiny wooden or cloth people.
“Better to care for a real baby who can grow up,” she said.
Karina found that hilarious and laughed, which got Althea giggling.
With the approach of evening, they marched inside the house and got to cooking dinner. Althea still felt hungry, as though the big lunch, cookies, and two whole, raw potatoes hadn’t existed. With the focus of a task distracting her from thoughts of her family, worry crept in. She squeezed and rolled the tortilla dough, glancing out of the corner of her eye at Karina chopping vegetables at the other side of the counter.
“Have you seen Den?”
The knife stalled. “No… I thought he was out with the Watch.”
Althea closed her eyes and grasped the agate arrowhead hung around her neck on a leather cord. Her flour-covered fingers tightened around it while she concentrated on him. She felt nothing, which could mean good and bad. Good because the lack of alarming feelings suggested safety, bad because it offered her no information. Light from her eyes sent shadows dancing on the wall as she plucked a small wad of dough away from the larger mass and mashed it flat with her hand. After getting it as round as she could, she stood on tiptoe to reach for the handmade rolling pin behind the sink.
“I thought he was at the hospital.”
Althea worked the roller back and forth over the lump. “He is angry with me.”
Karina put the knife down. “He… what?”
“I told him not to chase that man because he is stronger than Shepherd.”
“Oh.” Karina put a hand on her shoulder. “He’s a boy. He doesn’t understand. He thinks you called him weak.”
“I didn’t!” Althea whined. “I have to find him.”
Father’s boots thudded over the porch.
“He’ll be okay, Thea. It’s just his pride. You didn’t do anything wrong. Come on, we need to finish. Father’s hungry.”
Althea’s stomach rumbled. She looked down at herself.
“And so are you.” Karina poked her in the side.
“Okay.” She managed a weak smile and set aside her worry.
Althea awoke alone in bed, drawn to consciousness by the scent of eggs and bacon. Sunlight bathed the room in warmth. She sat up, feeling as though a weight balanced atop her head, and rubbed her eyes, which protested being open. She grasped the nightstand to steady herself and felt her way to the dresser. After a moment to ensure she wouldn’t fall if she let go, she pulled her nightgown off. Approaching a state of sleeping-while-standing, she swayed side to side in front of the chest of drawers.
She tugged at the handle and took the last folded dress on the left side. The old chest cloth Den had given her sat on the wood beneath it. In truth, it had only been three months since she had worn it, but it felt like another lifetime. Weary arms draped the clean dress over her head and let i
t fall around her. Althea didn’t bother threading her arms into the sleeves and trudged from the bedroom to the kitchen downstairs.
Her guilt at sleeping in faded at the sight of Father cooking. She hadn’t left Karina to do it alone after all. Karina gasped. Father chuckled. Althea didn’t understand what they found so funny until the cold chair at her bare backside told her the dress had tangled at her neck like a scarf. Too tired to care, she slumped over the table.
Karina rushed over and pulled the garment down, dressing her as if she were a three-year-old. Althea remained limp and tolerated it. Father set a dented, blue metal mug next to her.
“You look like you could use that, Thea.”
She sniffed it. Bitter steam assaulted her nose, making her scrunch her face up. “What is it?”
“Coffee,” said Father.
“Father!” Karina took the mug. “She’s too little for coffee.”
“Heh.” He grinned. “I had my first cup when I was ten.”
“And look at you,” said Karina.
He mumbled at her in Spanish, grinning despite sounding as though he complained. “Put milk in it.”
Althea sipped it after Karina softened and cooled it with a generous portion of milk. The flavor caused a mild grimace, but it was hardly the worst thing she’d ever tasted. She propped her cheek up on one hand while battling her omelet with a fork. The way Father mixed tiny bits of bacon into the fried potatoes made her want to lick the plate, but she insisted on chasing down each little scrap with the utensil.
“Where is Den?” Althea glanced at Father.
“Because of his injury, we are letting him rest. Dr. Ruiz said he shouldn’t do much for at least a week.”
“He’ll be okay, Thea.” Karina patted her on the back as she passed on her way to the sink.
Father stood, gave each of them a kiss on the cheek, and left for the day. Karina got started on the dishes without her. Althea rushed to finish the last of her breakfast, figuring scraping the food to the edge of the plate and into her mouth with the fork counted as using it.
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