Science Fiction and Fantasy
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I nodded and did what he asked—though it was hard. I was afraid I'd do that hiccuping crying I used to do when I was a kid— the big cry that usually put me out for a good couple of hours.
Watching him—I was amazed at how much he'd changed in just a month. No wonder I hadn't recognized him.
For starters, his ponytail was gone. He'd cut the back off pretty short though I noticed strands of hair that hugged his neck, but the top and sides looked more like he'd just rolled out of bed. And he had sideburns. His face seemed older somehow—as if he'd grown up in a short amount of time. And his eyes . . .
There was something different about his eyes. Had they been like this that day in the hospital when he coded? I couldn't remember no matter how hard I tried. There were so many other problems back then— I'd sort of dismissed him as being a sort of side character.
"Let me do something about that shoulder." He put his hands together, palms facing each other kinda like he was praying. Abruptly, a soft white light leaked out from between the two of them.
That's when I remembered the tattoos on his palms. I'd completely forgotten about them.
He reached out with his left hand— palm glowing, and I could just make out the circles— were they spinning? He held it over my shoulder. Then he held out his right hand, palm facing down, and the light shone through the hardwood of the floor. My shoulder stung, and I winced.
"Be as still as possible," Dags said in a very deep but firm voice.
I did as he said. And within seconds the pain vanished. He sat back and rubbed his hands together. I looked at my shoulder. My jacket was still burned— but my shoulder was—
How'd you do that? I turned and looked at him. I'd seen him use the light from those tattoos to banish the oogy from dark corners— namely Shadow People. But— I'd never seen him use it for healing.
"A lot's happened in the past month."
I'll say.
His hand was on my forehead again. "Jemmy's right, Zoë. You feel okay? You're very warm."
I nodded and closed my eyes. I knew I had a fever—felt the heat in my eyelids. But I was afraid I'd been fighting off a cold for over a week. I'm fine. I just— Thanks for coming in when you did.
Dags frowned at first, then nodded. We discovered pretty early on that Dags could hear me, but not like Joe had. For Dags, communication with me was more like images in his head. And he sometimes had to interpret what he saw to understand what I was saying.
"Hey, Jemmy?"
"What's wrong?" Jemmy came out of the botanica, a broom and a black candle in her hands.
"Do you know where a thermometer is? I think you're right— Zoë's sick."
"Well, I wouldn't be surprised. Especially with the smell in here. But I know where Nona keeps them. You stay here." She set the broom down and ambled off.
He released my arm and turned to pick up the now-cooled cup of tea. "You drink this and tell me what the hell you were doing opening a doorway."
I took the tea and sipped it. It was sweet, and I recognized hibiscus, as well as something else in there that was familiar. You know what's happened?
He nodded. "Most of it. I've been up to see Nona myself. Archer— you call him TC— was the one that took her soul?"
Yeah— but how could you know what's happened? I haven't seen you— or spoken to you. And your phone's been disconnected. Even Jamael didn't know where you'd gone.
He smirked. I didn't like it much. Reminded me too much of Joe. "I have my sources. And like I said—I've got most of it. TC's never contacted you?"
No. And I thought that he'd eventually contact me somehow—threaten me with a ransom or something. I mean, why else take my mom's soul, right? I sighed. I'm doing this by myself—I've always had Mom and Rhonda to tell me what to do. You know, what something means, how I use it, what's wrong with it. But I've been alone at this— and I finally decided I needed to just open a door to the Abysmal and go get her myself.
Dags pursed his lips and nodded slowly. "You know traveling through the Abysmal in a physical body can kill you."
No shit.
"Why magic? That's not really your forte, is it? Something wrong with just going OOB and stepping into the Abysmal?" He nodded to the botanica. "Instead of trying to burn yourself?"
And here it was— the truth. I didn't want to tell him. I didn't want to face his sympathy either.
But Dags was a smart guy, and he was watching my face. He tucked a finger under my chin and looked into my eyes. "What is it, Zoë?"
I blinked back tears again— because I knew I was going to have to admit to something I didn't want to. It's because I can't go OOB anymore, Dags. I'm no longer a Wraith.
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