The Light Who Shines (39 page)

Bluebell Kildare: June 3, 2022, Red Ages

Something in the room catches my attention. I see movement
and hear a voice shouting a word that I know. I know it, but I can’t remember
what it means. It feels like it’s coming from down a long, long tunnel.

I move closer to hear. I think that’s my name. I think
that’s what people called me while I was there.

I move a bit closer. I know that voice! It’s Jack! Jack is
the good one. The one I can trust!

I can barely see him through my light. He has his hand held
over my mouth. Not really my mouth anymore, but the mouth of the body that used
to be mine. It sits on the ground now. Jack is supporting it by the neck. The
head is lolled back, and his hand is over my mouth. But he’s looking at me. The
real me. My light. And he is shouting. He isn’t looking at my body. He’s seeing
my soul up above my body in the corner of the room.

He is shouting, “Blue! Don’t you dare die on me now. Blue!
Come back! Come back! Blue, Varg needs you. Maud needs you. Please! I beg you.
I need you!”

Some of my light fades, and I am able to see the room
better. I wonder what Jack is doing with his hand over my body’s mouth. I get
closer and see that he’s squeezing blood into it from a wound on his wrist. Ohh,
he’s hurt!

I get a little closer. Now he is rubbing the body’s throat,
but he’s still looking at me, the real me. He looks straight at me, and I look
at him. I look right into his eyes, and he looks pained and happy at the same
time. He says, “That’s right, come back to me, beautiful. It’s Jack. Come back
to me, Blue.”

I feel a longing to be with him rise up inside of me so I
drift a little closer still. Then suddenly the darkness takes me again.

Jack Tanner: June 4, 2022, Red Ages

I pace back and forth in the lobby of the surgery ward while
strangers try to piece Blue back together. I’ve seen a lot of carnage in my
life, much worse than yesterday, but nothing has ever affected me so much as
seeing Blue’s skin missing and the insides of her flesh exposed with bone and
sinew in clear view. I would give her my own skin to heal her wounds if I
could.

I pull my hands away from my head when I realize that not
only am I running my fingers through my hair, but I’m actually tugging on it
and pulling some out. I tuck my fingers in my trouser pockets.

Strangers who have no idea how important Blue may be to the
supernatural breeds and to all of humanity are putting her back together as
though she’s just another person. Strangers who have no understanding of how my
life would rip apart. They would lose two souls if they lost one.

I stand before the window. I vow that if she dies on that
table, I will hunt down each person in that room and rip them to pieces.

Suddenly I feel a gentle hand on my arm. I turn and see Maud
looking at me with grieving, pale green eyes and her wide lips pinched.

“Any word?” she asks.

I put my hand on her shoulder. “Not yet. They just started.”

She turns away from me and sits in one of the upholstered
waiting room chairs, wrapping a paisley shawl tightly around her shoulders,
looking small and frail and all of her age. Her blue hair has faded to a light
pastel color, her nail polish is chipped, and her dress wrinkled. I know that
her disarray is a measure of her love for Blue. I sit down next to her and look
at my hands. A few strands of my hair are still stuck to my fingers. I gently
pull them off and watch them float down to the floor. We must be quite a sight,
the two of us.

The hours pass and still we sit together, silently,
side-by-side, watching the doorway, waiting for word. A white clock sits on the
far end of the room against a beige wall with the stark, black hands ticking
interminably forward. Along the wall I’m facing, the paint is old and chipped
along the rubber baseboards, three and a quarter inches from the right corner.
The floor is made of green and blue speckled linoleum tiles. The third, seventeenth,
and fifty-fourth tiles have chips in them and need replacing. I am tracing
their outlines with my eyes, listening to the faint sound of the clock ticking
over the much louder sound of Maud’s breaths and her rapidly beating heart.
Maud smells of roses and lilacs, overlaying the tangy smell of her thinning
blood.

As I begin to count the freckles on Maud’s arm for the third
time, Alexis comes rushing in. “No word yet?” she asks, out of breath.

I shake my head as Maud looks up. Maud reaches out her hand
for Alexis, and Alexis comes forward, opening up both arms. Maud stands up and
silently steps into them. Alexis wraps her arms around Maud and gently soothes
her, rubbing her back. After a few moments Alexis pulls back and says, “Why
don’t we go get a nice cup of tea from the café and maybe a sandwich.”

Maud says, “I’m not hungry.”

I interject, “Her stomach has growled seventeen times in the
last hour.”

Maud turns and glares at me, and Alexis nods at me over the
top of Maud’s head. Without waiting for a reply from Maud, she pulls her along
and out the door.

The clock keeps ticking, and I add it to my list of things
to destroy if Blue doesn’t make it. I’m deep in my fantasy of how I will
dissemble and crush the various parts of the object that marked the last hours
of Blue’s life when I get a surprise visitor.

Dragomira walks in wearing a beautiful cream dress and an
exotic, red embroidered scarf that floats behind her. Always one for the
dramatic, that female. Her eyes are a bright blue today. She takes Maud’s chair
next to me after surveying the empty waiting room.

“Can you tell me what happened?” she asks.

I wonder absently how Dragomira found us. I never called
her. Perhaps she counts clairvoyance among her many skills. “How did you know
we were here?”

Dragomira says, “It was on the news.”

Oh. I would be embarrassed, but I can’t bring myself to
care.

“Then you know already that Tobias Blackwater was the man
looking for the amulet?”

When she nods, I go on.

“He had her chained in a crypt and was flaying her to death.
He had already torn through her skin and muscle and was ripping into her spinal
bone when I finally found her.”

Dragomira winces.

“Her heart wasn’t beating.”

Dragomira puts her hand on my arm.

“Don’t worry,” I say. “She is alive now. I gave her some of
my blood.”

Dragomira looks up sharply at this.

I say, “Of course I didn’t turn her.”

Relief washes over her face. Then Dragomira says, “If you
are done answering my questions before I ask them, I would like to know about
her light. What happened?”

“Her soul was separated from her body when I arrived, only
connected by a very thin strand. Her light was brilliant. She was deep
underground, several stories down, but I could see her light through the earth,
a thin beam pushing straight up into the sky, going even beyond my eyesight,
past the moon. She was leaving this life. I called her and called her and she
must have heard me because she started to move closer and closer. Then all of a
sudden her heart began to beat, and the center of her light popped right back
into her body.”

Dragomira’s eyes shift from vivid blue to a deep purple with
a fiery red gleam in their depths. “Do you still need a test to know that she
is the Illustrissima? Do you doubt that she is the Bright One, the Shining One
we have been waiting for?”

Sadly, I don’t. I hang my head. “No.”

“You did a wonderful job, Jack. You found her and saved
her.”

I shake my head and say, “I failed as a guardian. I didn’t
even kill Tobias Blackwater. Her wolf did. I should never have put her on this
job on her own. She should have had a partner the whole way.”

Dragomira reaches out and touches my shoulder. “No, Jack.
There are parts of this journey she will have to travel on her own. You should
be her guardian and her partner as much as you can now and watch her closer,
but she has much to learn. She will not learn it all under your shadow. Nor
will she want to. Just remember, you’re the one who called her back. And what
is more important, you’re the person she returned for.”

I look up as she stands to leave. “She will make it, Jack.”

“How do you know?”

“I know.”

I dip my head back down to look at the speckled tiles again,
and I don’t lift it until Alexis and Maud walk back in with Gambino close on
their heels.

Gambino asks, “How is she?”

I stand up and shake his hand in greeting. “No word. She’s
been in surgery for six hours now.”

Maud and Alexis sit across from us, so Gambino takes a deep
breath and sits down in Maud’s chair. Gambino looks rough. His suit jacket is
thrown over his arm, and his dress shirt and slacks are wrinkled. His tie is
pulled loose. His eyes are bloodshot and puffy, and his cheeks are flushed.

Gambino shakes his head. “I’ve never seen anything like that
before.” He looks at me through puffy eyes. “Her muscle was hanging off the
bone in strips. Blood all over the floor. Thank God you were there to give her
your blood. Do you think she has a chance?”

“She’d better have a chance.”

Gambino asks, “Did you hear that Varg ran chasing after the
ambulance as soon as it took off?”

“No. I hadn’t heard. But I’m not worried about him. He’s
found her twice; he’ll find her again.”

Gambino nods. “Well, we’ve made quite an uproar at the precinct
and the Village Council. The mayor is on his way back from his vacation. The
Chief had to speak to news reporters. The story is being heard all over the
country. Human rights groups are crawling all over us, as though owning house
slaves is a sanctioned activity in our city. The Dilectus Deo are staging
protests all over town, using the opportunity to gain new recruits, and
apparently ignoring the fact that two of Blackwater’s victims were Gifted. We
had a few wackos calling about an alien spacecraft and beams of light.
Thankfully though, we are also making a lot of people very happy by telling
them that their stolen magical artifacts have been found.”

That raises an alarm in my head. “Have you returned the artifacts
yet?”

Gambino squints his eyes and looks at me. “No. Why?”

“Because all of the items were stolen by a Gifted person and
all are magical artifacts. The Bureau should be handling that rather than the precinct.
I would have an expert come in and do a complete inventory to make sure none of
the elements are forbidden. Then I would put several magical tests to anyone
who showed up claiming to be the owner. The precinct isn’t capable of handling
that. Those objects are likely to be powerful and should not get in the wrong
hands. All you will do is check an ID.”

Gambino takes this in and ruminates on it a moment. “I can
have the pieces transferred to you.”

“Better yet, I’ll have my men Xavier and Ernesto pick them
up if you could please do the paperwork for the transfer.”

Just as I finish speaking, a short doctor with dark frizzy
hair and a long nose walks into the room. “Jack Tanner?”

I quickly step up to him. “I’m Jack Tanner.” I can smell
Blue’s blood all over him, and my gut clenches.

He says, “I’m Dr. Ziggler. I just finished surgery on
Bluebell.”

I look back at the room and see all eyes glued on us. I turn
back to Dr. Ziggler. “You can update us all, Doctor.”

He clears his throat. “Bluebell Kildare has made it through
the operation. She’s in critical but stable condition, which is amazing given
the condition she arrived in. She is a fighter. She required an emergency skin
graft and countless sutures. She will need more surgeries and more skin grafts,
but we need to get her strong now. That is our focus for the time being. She is
deeply sedated because if she were to awaken now she would be in unbearable
pain. We will keep her sedated for several days. For the time being, she is
being cared for in intensive care, but if she does well, she may be moved to the
burn ward.”

“Why the burn ward?”

Dr. Ziggler says gently, “They have the most experience
dealing with skin grafts and missing skin.” Then he clears his throat again and
says, “I would bring someone back to visit with her now, but we had a very
unusual situation occur during the surgery.”

I can feel the tension rise in the room, and I start glaring
at the doctor.

He says, “No, nothing is wrong with Bluebell, beyond the
obvious, of course. While I was doing surgery, an animal, either a wolf or a
very large dog—it is hard to tell—walked right in the surgery room. I called a
nurse in who tried to coax him out, but every time she got near him, he snarled
at her. I couldn’t stop my surgery, you understand, so I told the nurse to
leave it. He just sat their passively as long as we left him alone. Do any of
you know about this animal?”

I think we must have all been smiling a bit because Dr.
Ziggler says, “I see you do know this animal!”

Alexis speaks up. “Yes. He is Blue’s animal, and he’s a
wolf. He is harmless unless you try to hurt Blue. I think it is a good idea
that you just let him be near her. He will get back to her even if you try to
remove him.”

Dr. Ziggler’s eyes open up wide, and I can see he is about
to protest.

I say, “We will keep someone with her at all times to watch
the wolf.”

Dr. Ziggler nods and scratches his head. His frizzy hair
bounces to and fro for a minute. “Okay. That will do. Right now only one person
can sit with her at a time. If she gets moved to the burn ward, then she can
have two visitors at a time.”

Dr. Ziggler looks at me, “Are you her next of kin?”

I don’t know what to say. I look around at the room, at all
the people who love her, all the hopeful, shining eyes.

I turn to Dr. Ziggler. “She’s an orphan. We’re all her next
of kin.”

Dr. Ziggler smiles. “Well who would like to go first?”

I turn around. “Maud?”

Maud sniffs and wipes her eyes. She pulls her shawl a little
closer and stands up on shaky legs. I stride over to her and take her arm. When
we reach Dr. Ziggler, she looks up at me and says, “I won’t take long.”

I nod and hand her off to Dr. Ziggler, who tucks her arm
under his and walks through the swinging metal doors.

An hour later when Gambino takes his leave, I am the only
one who hasn’t visited Blue. I requested to go last because frankly, I don’t
intend to leave her when I get into that room.

As Dr. Ziggler walks me back he says, “You have been very
patient.”

I mentally scoff at this because I may have waited, but I
certainly haven’t been patient.

At the end of the hall we come into a large, sterile room
directly across from a nurse’s station with glass windows so they can see right
in. Blue is lying on her belly with her face turned to the side, and I see
Varg’s snout and front paws protruding from under the bed. He is a good guard
dog, maybe even a better guardian than I am.

I quickly bring my eyes back to Blue, whose breathing is
shaky and laborious. Her eyes are closed. Her back is swathed in bandages that
have spots of pink marring the surfaces already. I can see them through the
slit in the back of the hospital gown. A light sheet covers her up to her
waist.

I sit in a small, hard metal chair next to her. I’d rather
stand, but down here I can see her face better. I have been starving for the
sight of her face. I marvel at the curve of her eyebrow and the length of her
brown lashes lying on her cheek. One hand is splayed on the sheet, and I trace
the outline of her lean, elegant fingers with my eyes. Her nails are always cut
short and unpolished. I notice a tiny drip of drool coming out of the corner of
her mouth. I quickly grab a tissue from the counter and dab at it.