Ghost's Dilemma (10 page)

Chapter 11

Gerry closed the door on the darkness of the night. The house was far too quiet without Ghost.

He had been busy all day and into the evening, but Gerry found time to dwell on how Ghost had left as he changed his shirt and scrubbed his hands before leaving the infirmary. They had not had a chance to talk, and Gerry wished he could relive the previous night. He would have given almost anything to take back his harsh words. Seeing the hurt in Ghost's eyes was unbearable.

Natali had given the Seeker's rest to an elderly woman this afternoon. Gerry knew the woman by sight but not well enough to know her name. Her neighbors had brought the woman to the infirmary. The persistent hemorrhaging marking the later stages of the plague was clear evidence she was dying. By chance, Gerry was standing there when Natali offered the Seeker's rest. He saw the look of gratitude in the woman's eyes, and she drank the tincture with a tired smile. Natali sat at the side of the bed, holding the woman's hand and speaking to her in a quiet voice until the woman fell asleep. Gerry watched them both for a few moments before he realized the woman was no longer breathing. He remembered Ghost's words as he watched and was ashamed.

The woman's passing was a sharp contrast to an earlier death. The patient was an older man, wide-eyed and sweaty with fever. Gerry knew him well. He was called Bran and he worked with Perth at the mead house. Bran cried out in agony with even the smallest movement, and he hemorrhaged from the mouth and nose. Bran turned down the Seeker's rest three times. Natali stopped offering the tincture after the third time. Instead, she bathed Bran's forehead and did her best to comfort him as he weakened from blood loss. Bran died sobbing, his voice ragged. Gerry was ashamed of the relief the man's death brought.

The shame didn't lessen when Natali brought Gerry a cup of hot broth and a piece of bread. She said nothing, but her quiet sympathy reminded Gerry of how he had slighted Ghost. Ghost had not deserved the lack of trust Gerry had shown, and Gerry had not shown the proper behavior of an alpha. He had broken his promises to Ghost. Now Ghost had gone to look for the Witch alone, on a fool's mission to the wild Northlands. Gerry could only wait and pray to the Father to protect Ghost.

Gerry sat at the scrubbed wooden table in the tidy kitchen, seeing Ghost everywhere he looked. Ghost had insisted the witches knew a way to reach the Northlands. Gerry didn't doubt his witch, but he also didn't know if Ghost would be in danger on the journey. He was no fool. Gerry knew witches used the relics of the ancients and those devices were a large part of their so-called magic. But Gerry had seen Ghost after a vision and had seen Ghost's visions realized. The ability to See was not something picked up in a ruin. The Sight was true magic, and Ghost had that power. What if Ghost's magic attracted something darker? What if the Witch's message had been meant to lure Ghost into a trap?

Gerry wondered if he could ask Natali to reach Ghost through her mirror, the way Ghost had reached out to the witchsisters. Wherever Ghost was, if Gerry could only know Ghost was well and uninjured, he would rest easier. He couldn't hope to be forgiven and he would not ask, not over a scrying mirror with someone else to say the words. The right words were so hard to find to begin with, and Gerry wondered why it was so difficult. He had had no trouble using words to hurt Ghost.

He stood, his heart heavy. Walking into their bedroom was an effort, the bed cold and too large without Ghost to help fill the space, but Gerry needed to sleep. The day had exhausted him more than hunting or working guard ever had. Gerry had also gained a new perspective. Ghost's strength might not have been visible to the casual observer, but Ghost had been tireless over the course of the illness. One day had worn Gerry out. Ghost had managed for nearly a half moon without complaint.

Gerry didn't bother to undress all the way. He stayed awake long enough to remove his boots and peel off his tunic. He crawled under the quilt and reached for Ghost's pillow, humming a bit of Ghost's song. He wished he held Ghost in his embrace instead as he fell into a troubled sleep, missing his precious Ghost.

***

A brightening light woke Ghost, and he reached for Gerry, hoping to bury his face in Gerry's shoulder and steal a few more minutes of sleep. His hand encountered a cabinet door, and he remembered he was not home.

Ghost threw off the blanket and yawned as he sat up. The panels along the wall emitted the daylight that had woken him from a restless sleep, and he felt no more rested than when he had closed his eyes. Some dried fruit and water made for a scant breakfast.

Ghost found himself missing the sound of Gerry moving about and humming to himself. Since he had joined Gerry to create their family, Ghost had become accustomed to the sound of voices. He and the Witch could go for days without speaking aloud, but Gerry liked to talk, and Ghost missed the comfort of his mate's chatter.

He wandered back over to the desk to examine the pad again. The three options from the night before were still there, along with a new one reading
Power
. Ghost wondered if this was the way to recharge the carriage.

Ghost pressed the new symbol. A green bar pulsed on the wall panel above the desk. Ghost regarded the panel with satisfaction. If the carriage worked on the same principle as the relics, the conveyance was gathering power.

Menu
reappeared, and Ghost touched an image, expecting nothing to happen. The pad hummed, and the desk's top slid away, allowing a platform to rise up. Ghost found himself looking at a cup of hot, brown liquid.

"Seeker guide me," Ghost muttered, taken aback. The cup was real, its contents hot, but Ghost had no inclination to try the strange drink that smelled more bitter than an infusion of hemp.

Ghost tried
Information
and a flurry of symbols filled the pad. He frowned as he attempted to read the unfamiliar words. He resorted to the trick the Witch had taught him. He picked apart each word, looking for smaller, more recognizable words. One word looked familiar enough, and Ghost touched the symbol alongside it. The panel above the desk flickered, and a map appeared. The station in the Northlands was glowing green, and his point of origin was yellow. A small red dot traveled along the line, and Ghost was almost certain he could see the speck of color moving.

Tapping the red dot got him a small line, which Ghost read aloud. "Speed approximately five hundred kilometers per hour." Ghost had no notion of what a kilometer was, but he knew the carriage was traveling at impossible speeds if he could see movement on the map. This time of year, with the passes already getting snow, the notion was both welcome and disturbing.

Ghost had not taken the time to look at the map in the station at length, but he had nothing better to do to pass the time here in the carriage. The circles marking stations were near, or in, the ruined cities. Lines representing tunnels linked the stations. It was simple and straightforward, and useless to Ghost. The world had changed too much since it was drawn. He left the map visible, though. If all else failed, he could watch the red dot move.

Ghost was restless. He needed to move, but he was, for all intents and purposes, trapped on this carriage. He could do nothing but speculate and worry. To occupy himself, he looked around the carriage for anything that might be useful. A spot in the front held a familiar mark. He dropped to his haunches, looking at the crimson lines, thick and vibrant, one bisecting the other in an ancient healers' mark.

Ghost tugged on a small ring folded flat against the wall. A container slid out. Ghost heard a click, and the lid of the container rose enough for him to slip his fingers beneath the edge and lift the lid up the rest of the way.

"Moon shine on me," Ghost murmured. The container overflowed with healers' supplies. He spotted rolls of bandages, liquids, ointments, salves, and small cylinders for his Seeker's kiss. Best of all, a new and gleaming gods' light and several pristine Seeker's kisses rested in soft packing.

Ghost's hand was trembling as he picked up treasure after treasure, unable to believe this stroke of luck. He put all the supplies in a large pouch he found under the lid of the container. At the very least, he could give Natali a Seeker's kiss for her aid. If the gods smiled on him, Ghost could have found one of the antibiotics or vaccines the ancients used. He could be holding the cure to save his patients. Of course, he would need to get back to his village to test the supposition, if there was even a village left.

For now, though, Ghost had little to do except rest or try to read through the contents of
Information
. He felt guilty to be relaxing like this when his village was in the throes of an epidemic. He wanted to be doing something more tangible. His eye settled on the gleam of a curved section of the carriage, and Ghost groaned as he thought of what he could be doing. The ability to scry was not hampered by location, and he couldn't imagine his speed would do much to hinder him, either. He could reach out to Tal and see what she could tell him.

Ghost pulled the scrying mirror out and settled on the bench. He focused on the flawless surface and cleared his mind of everything but the witchmark Tal bore, knotwork in red. He didn't expect an immediate response, and he let himself drift in a meditative state of relaxation while he waited.

***

Gerry hurried to the village as the sun rose over the horizon, the grass still wet with dew. The market was stirring to life, and everything seemed peaceful and normal as he headed for the infirmary.

Visions of Ghost alone in some forsaken snowy pass, trapped and unable to go forward or back, or suffering with a broken leg, had haunted Gerry's sleep all night. The predawn sky had been a welcome sight, and he had jumped out of bed with a sense of relief. He decided he had to ask Natali's help in reaching Ghost. He couldn't bear spending any more time wondering if his beloved Ghost was safe.

"Gerry!" Conn called out, and Gerry stopped, waiting for him to catch up. "Are you heading to the infirmary? I'll walk with you. I'm going there myself."

Gerry assented. "I need to speak to Natali to see if she can reach Ghost for me."

"He's gone, then?" Conn gave Gerry a sympathetic glance. "Did you get a chance to talk before he left?"

"Not really." Gerry shrugged one shoulder.

"I can cover so Natali can help you." Conn reached past Gerry to open the red door. "I'll clean up and hold a hand or two. You talk to Ghost."

***

The pressure behind Ghost's spiral signaled contact. The scrying mirror clouded and a witchmark formed. He didn't expect Natali's mark, and anxiety flooded him.

"I'm glad I reached you, brother." Natali's mental voice was sweet. "How are you? No, I'm sorry,
where
are you? Your Gerry is here and fretful."

"I'm happy to hear from you, sister," Ghost replied, speaking aloud to break the silence. The sound of his own voice was startling in the otherwise quiet carriage. For a moment, he thought he heard an echo, which didn't seem possible in the small space. "I'm well, honestly, and as to where? I found the station, but I can't pinpoint where I am."

Ghost could feel hesitation in Natali's response. "Ah, good. Then you're well. Gerry was worried. The Sea sent him some disturbing dreams last night. He saw you injured or dying in the snow."

"If you tell Gerry not to share the knowledge, you can tell him about how I'm traveling. He understands witch's business can't be talked about too much. Besides, I'm only going to tell him myself, so you might as well. It'll ease his mind." Ghost settled himself on the bed in a more comfortable spot. "How are the patients doing? Have many more been brought in?"

Natali's voice took a moment to come back to Ghost. "I explained to Gerry about the carriages. He was a bit put out you didn't tell him before you left."

"I'd never been on one." Ghost was indignant, and he knew his reaction was clear to Natali. "I didn't even know if the thing was still working, much less what to expect. I can't tell him if I don't know. Can I?"

After the requisite pause, Natali replied, sounding amused. "He says he's sorry. And to bear with him because he's only a simple hunter and not a brilliant witch like his mate." Her voice grew more somber. "We lost two yesterday, and the babe you were fretting over worsened overnight. I'm not holding out hopes for him. An older man came in, just at the beginning stages. He's responding as well as I'm told Merrah did. I sent him home, but we've added a few more patients."

"Some good news, at least, with the man who improved. If we get them early, we have a chance. Even if they're a higher risk. I'll take whatever I can get as far as hope." A hard knot of tension formed between Ghost's shoulders. "Do you have enough supplies? If you're low, ask Gerry if he can trade for more. And tell him to bring the liver loaf to the warehouse. If I'm not there to remind him to eat, it'll only go to waste."

Natali chuckled. "He growls so nicely when prodded, Gerry does. He says he's eating. He brought us the better part of a runner already, and he's been here to help all day and into the night. We have a great many volunteers. You have a strong community here."

"How fares the elder?" Ghost asked. "I'm hoping he gets through this and recovers."

"He's here. He's not getting worse, which is all I can say for now. Not as good as getting better. But so far, he's holding on." Natali paused again. "Your Gerry wants me to tell you he loves you. And he wants you to come home as quickly as you can."