Page 7 of Light and Shadow
Taking the rest of my mediocre tea with me, I go to the bathroom and leave her in peace.
After a long testing period where I finally figure out how to work the shower, I get cleaned up and dressed. I borrow a comb, and Harper left a package that readstoothbrushon the counter for me. It’s similar to what we have at home, and I’m grateful for the gesture.
In the living room, Harper waits near the door. “I like to get there early and speak with the nurses before they get too busy.”
The music in the car is just loud enough to make me think she would rather not talk. The trees are beautiful here, and I watch the scenery go by, changing from the stacked homes to larger places, then a small town with a large stone university. The school’s architecture reminds me of home. It’s a thriving little place, even this early.
We pull off the main street and then make several turns until we arrive at a building markedNew Jersey Palliative Care.
I follow her to the second floor of the white and gray place. It’s clean, but I sense death and have to raise my walls to keep from feeling too much. Unlike the actual words I hear with Harper, I sense the pain and fear of the dying within each room.
Harper stops at a desk and speaks to a man and a woman. I look inside the door across from the desk. On a board across from the bed, it says Maggie Craig.
“Who are you?” Her voice is just a whisper. Little more than skin and bones, a woman with Harper’s eyes stares at me. Shehas a pink cloth wrapped around her head and is hooked up to wires and tubes.
“My name is Aaran. I came with Harper to visit you.” My magic opens to the wake of a dark illness growing inside her.
She raises her brows and winces. “You’re not from here. What are you?”
Can she know about Domhan? It doesn’t seem possible, but her nearness to the other side may give her insight.
“I came to find Harper. I need her help.”
When she laughs, it’s more like a wheeze. “It must have been quite a journey. Your kind don’t usually come here.”
“No. We stay home, but this was important.” I touch her bony hand lying on top of the sheet. “She’s not ready to lose you.”
A tear bubbles from her. “No, but we have no control over that now. I suppose we never did.”
As the eldest of my parents’ children, I pride myself on unwavering self-control, but since I entered this world, that has faltered. Impulse is for my youngest brother to toy with, not me. Still, as I look at the withering form of Maggie Craig, all I can think is how her death will destroy Harper. Unable to help myself, I call my magic to pull this fog of bitter illness from her.
The heat of it burns deep into my bones, like the branding iron straight from the fire. More painful than traveling by portal, long minutes pass, and still more fire draws out of her. How she was still alive is a testament to her strength.
“Harper, make him stop. Look what it’s doing to him.” Maggie shakes her hand, trying to dislodge it from mine.
Harper’s cool fingers touch my cheek. “Aaran, whatever you’re doing, it’s harming you. She wouldn’t want that.”
“It’s the price of magic for my kind. I can take a bit more.” The pain surges through my gut, up my body, and resounds inside my head like a battering ram.
The tenderness of Harper’s touch keeps me grounded. Opening my eyes, I stare into hers. “One moment more.” My voice is rough and weak.
“No more.” Maggie’s voice has the strength of a soldier.
I release the cloud of black and send it away. Stumbling back, I barely make it to the chair before my legs give out. “I will just need a few minutes.”
Skin changed from gray to a nice pink, Maggie looks like a different woman. Still far too thin, but health has returned to her cheeks and eyes.
Gripping the blue-green leather on the arm of the wooden chair, I let the last of my magic rest.
Harper kneels in front of me. “What have you done?”
“What I could.” Breathing is harder than I’d like, but there’s enough magic left in me to restore my strength, given a bit of time.
Looking from me to her mother, Harper’s eyes fill with tears. “How?” She holds up her palm. “No, don’t tell me. At least, not yet.” She goes to her mother, and the two women hug as if it’s been years since they’ve seen each other.
Maggie laughs. “Is it bad that I’m craving pizza and fries?”
When they laugh together, my chest tightens. As bad as I feel, and as vulnerable as I’ve made myself, it was worth it to hear that sound.
