Waning Moon

by PJ Sharon

  Chapter 24

  Reluctantly, I led Will to the only safe place I could think to hide out and regroup. We were soaking wet, shivering, and hungry by the time Father Stavros opened the back door to the rectory at Saint Catherine’s.

  “Come in, come in. What a wretched night to be out…” The robust padre stopped to look closer. “Lily, is that you?”

  “Hi, Father…sorry to bust in on you like this.”

  “No trouble at all.” Then he looked at Will and his eyes went wide. Though the rain had washed away the blood and sewer slime, Will looked pretty beat up. “Follow me,” he said. The priest led us down a long hallway and into a lounge, complete with plush sofas, overstuffed chairs, and a restroom. “Let me get some bandages and put on a pot of tea. I’ll find you some dry clothes and you can clean up. I’m sure there’s something in the donation box that will fit you.” He eyed me for a long moment, his dark eyes shadowed with concern. “Should I be worried about someone looking for you two?”

  “I wouldn’t have come here, but Sam said…”

  He rested a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “I’m glad you came, Lily. Your uncle has done so much for the cause…” he hesitated when I shot a sharp glance at Will, and then he changed the subject. “I bet you’re hungry. I’ll heat up some corned beef and cabbage. Mrs. McLuski brought me a pot full.” He patted his round stomach. “My parishioners are determined to fatten me up.” He smiled heartily. “Don’t worry. No one will find you here.” He left the room with a brisk nod.

  Will and I took turns cleaning up in the small bathroom and by the time I came out he had already changed into dry clothes and was leaning back on the sofa, his eyes closed and a pained look on his bruised face.

  Father Stavros had given me a pair of cotton pants, the legs of which I had to roll up. I cinched the drawstring and pulled on a sweatshirt that covered me to my hips. The oversized clothing, though unflattering in every way, was at least clean, dry, and warm. I settled onto the sofa next to Will, glad to have warm wool socks covering my feet on the cold marble floor.

  “Are you ready?” I reached up and touched the cut above Will’s brow, his previous scar intersecting the new wound. He’d have a nice X-marks-the-spot above his right eye. I touched the cut and then drew my hand away, more nervous than I wanted to be about using my gift in front of him.

  He winced and opened his eyes. “Is there anything I need to do?” he asked, his expression tentative.

  “Just sit back and relax. Try to keep your breathing slow and steady. Open yourself up if you can.” I realized how silly that sounded to someone who didn’t understand the simple transfer of energy between human beings. Everyone had the ability. If they could just learn to focus on and harness the life force within themselves and open their minds, they would sense the energy in others. “It helps if you think of something pleasant…a nice memory or a picture of a happy time in your life.”

  Will’s eyes fluttered. I felt his body relax as he sank further into the couch cushion. I unbuttoned his shirt, and I felt him tense. Trying to keep my hands steady and my mind on the task before me, I focused my attention on assessing the damage. My fingers drifted over the deep purple bruises blooming over his ribs. “He really did a number on you.”

  “That bad?” Will opened his eyes and looked through his swollen lid. In a tone meant to reassure me, he added, “Don’t worry. I’ve had worse.”

  I thought of the scar on his back, but now wasn’t the time to ask about it. “Your ribs might hurt a little but you’ll feel much better in a few minutes.”

  Will smiled and then flinched, his lip cracking open again. He reached for the split and drew blood away. He ran his tongue along his fat lip. Then he looked up at me. “Once again, my fate seems to be in your hands.”

  “Lucky me.” Sarcasm seemed easier than being angry with him for being a jerk when he obviously couldn’t help it. “Sit back. Breathe. Relax.” He rested his head back on the couch.

  I took a few deep, cleansing breaths, and placed my hand over his ribs. Then I reached inside with my mind. One…no…two cracked ribs. No internal bleeding. I moved my hand to his throat and felt his pulse which jumped a beat faster at my touch. I swallowed and continued my scan, running my hands over his chest, the skin warm to touch and smooth over lean muscles.

  After a few more torturous minutes of feeling my way around his body, I determined that the ribs and the bruises to his face were the worst of his injuries. He had scrapes on his knuckles, a sign he had fought and landed a few good punches. As my hand skimmed over his forearm, I stopped. “This is strange. There’s something here.”

  Will opened his eyes and glanced down. There was a small cut across the inside of his forearm. “What is it?”

  I pressed and poked around the area. “I’m not sure.” I took the knife that Father Stavros had left as part of the first aid supplies and sterilized the razor sharp four inch blade.

  Will’s eyes widened. “What are you going to do with that?”

  I gripped his wrist tightly. To his credit he didn’t try to pull away. “There’s something in there,” I said, my heart pounding as I placed the tip of the blade at the edge of the cut. I glanced up to see Will’s face go a shade paler. “Don’t watch if it makes you squeamish.”

  A smile curved my lips. I’d dug large splinters out of my brother more than once and birthed enough livestock that the sight of blood was nothing new. I’d also removed a few bullets—a must before healing a wound closed and finding later that I’d left one in. “Hold still.” I sliced the small cut open, ignoring the curse that came out of Will’s mouth. Blood beaded to the surface. “Sorry. This is going to hurt,” I said as I rooted around with my finger and worked a tiny metal disc to the surface until it slipped through the hole.

  “Jesus,” Will grimaced, and then his face turned stony. “They must have implanted a tracking device in me when I was unconscious.”

  “That explains why they made it so easy for us to escape.” I dropped the tracking device into a nearby vase of tulips and watched it sink to the bottom. “They must have planned to follow us to Stanton.”

  “I told you to leave me behind.” Will sounded angry, but I could tell he was madder at himself than anyone else.

  “You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault.”

  “But I should have…if I hadn’t…”

  “We don’t have time to argue. If they were tracking us, they know we’re here, and the longer we stay, the more danger we put Father Stavros in. We need to heal you and move on.”

  Will nodded, his expression grim. I have to tell you something first,” he said. I cleaned the bloody cut on his forearm and put a temporary dressing on it to stanch the flow of blood.

  “Tell me later. You need healing now.” He trembled from shock, his face a pasty white as perspiration beaded along his upper lip. “You might feel some tingling or a prickling sensation,” I said. I reached one hand to the front of his ribs and slid the other under his shirt resting it on his back, my cheeks flushing with heat. As much as I wanted to enjoy the flood of warmth that swept through my body, the urgency of the situation and the sting of his betrayal were far too fresh. He might not have known about the tracking device, but he’d been in league with the Industry, and it would take more than an apology or a leak of some bit of intelligence for me to forget that, though he definitely had me curious. Unlike the first time when I’d healed his shoulder, however, I had no desire to delve into his mind or his soul. I shut down my emotions and concentrated on sending healing energy into his ribs. I sensed the bones fusing as my hands grew hotter. Suddenly a white light shot from my palms and a steady glow poured out.

  Will’s eyes popped open. “It’s like concentrated sparks,” he said, gazing down at the light.

  I kept my hands steady for a few more minutes until I sensed his ribs had healed sufficiently. He would be sore for a while, but it was the best I could do for the moment. I moved to the gash above his ey
e and then the bruise on his swollen cheek, and finally to the split in his bottom lip. As the glow emanated from my fingertips, I was painfully aware of how close we were and how soft his lips felt, reminding me that it was just twenty-four hours before that I had been kissing those lips.

  “There,” I said with a gusty exhale. “Whatever is left should be all healed up by morning.” I backed away and poured us each a cup of tea, my hand trembling. I wondered what he really thought about me. Did he see me as a freak of nature and science, or was he as totally accepting of me as he seemed to be?

  “Thank you, Lily.” Will leaned forward, touched my hand gently, and said, “Let me.”

  I set the tea pot down and sat back, fatigue beginning to take hold and making me feel weak to the core. After he had poured us each some minty-smelling tea, he lifted his cup and sipped the hot liquid carefully as if half expecting pain to shoot through his lip. Then he touched where a few minutes ago had been a largely swollen and raw split of the tissue, which was now considerably smaller and closed up. “It must be great having the power to heal any kind of illness or injury.”

  “I don’t consider my healing ability a “power.” It’s a gift, and it comes with a lot of restrictions and more responsibility than you can imagine. I can’t tell everybody…or anybody for that matter.” I eyed him warily over my cup as I sipped the fragrant blend. “The more people who know, the more danger my family is in. Besides, I can’t heal everyone.”

  “I was wondering about that…what your limitations are. Obviously, if you need special medicine for Sam, there must be some limits to your power…gift.”

  “I’m still trying to figure out why I seem to be able to heal some types of cancer in certain people, but can’t with Sam…I think it has to do with the fact that we have the same genetics. He seems to be immune to me.” I didn’t know how much I should be telling him, but holding in my fear and frustration over not being able to heal Sam was only feeding my insecurities.

  “What about Zeph?” Will looked at me, his crystalline blue-grey eyes wide with curiosity. His sandy bangs drooped low across his brow.

  I moved to the edge of the sofa. “We aren’t talking about Zeph.” Anger seeped into my voice as I set my cup down. “I know that’s what the Industry wants. They want to get a hold of my brother and either torture him with experiments or turn him into some kind of assassin. I won’t stand by and let them…or you…”

  My voice was rising just as Father Stavros entered with a tray of piping hot corned beef and biscuits that smelled heavenly. “Fresh from the oven,” he said, knowing full well he was interrupting what was about to become a tirade. His eyes honed in on Will. “Praise the Lord! You look much better. I see Lily has blessed you with her talents.” He set the tray down and served us both. We filled the priest in on what we’d found imbedded in Will’s arm.

  “Don’t worry about it. They won’t send drones or Guardians out in this rain. If agents come looking for you, I’ll tell them you came seeking a place of refuge, that I fed you, and turned you out again.” He frowned. “I’ll try to buy you some time by telling them you’re headed for the train station.”

  By the time we’d finished off the last of the corned beef, biscuits, and tea, I had calmed down considerably. But I wasn’t about to let Will forget that my life, and Zeph’s were in his hands, or that he owed me yet again for saving his butt. Lucky for him, Father Stavros commanded the conversation.

  “You two are welcome to stay as long as you like, but I think it best if we get you out of the city as soon as possible.” He looked up at the ceiling as if consulting with God. “If the rain ever stops.” The patter of a steady downpour hit the roof.

  “As soon as the storm lets up, we’ll be on our way.” I shifted my gaze to Will. “We have some business to take care of tonight, and we don’t want to stay in one place for too long. You’ve been very kind to take us in like this, Father.” I filled him in on the events of the day, and as he stood to leave the room, I followed him out into the hall, keeping my voice low. “I’m sorry if we’ve caused you trouble or put you at risk.”

  He took my hands in his, deep brown eyes smiling affectionately. “It’s no trouble at all. I can handle the Industry agents. Don’t worry.”

  “I’d like you to send word to Sam about what’s happened. Tell him I’ll be traveling back on my own tomorrow and that the caravan is in danger if the Industry tries to get to me through them. See if he can get word to Rudy that he needs to get the caravan out of the city as soon as possible.”

  “Won’t William be traveling with you?”

  I looked over my shoulder into the room where Will was putting fresh supplies into a pack. “No. I’m going home alone.”