User blog:Doctor Ibrahim/A Thousand Points of Light

A Thousand Points of Light

Part 1



     “Sign on all three lines, please. And don’t forget to fill out the bottom page telling us about your allergies, okay, hon?”

     A peal of distant thunder made the flower vase on the filing cabinet rattle slightly, giving off a rhythmic tinkling that was almost drowned out by the rain pelting the nearby window pane. Lily handed the clipboard over to her patient, her voice a carefully rehearsed modulation of rote statements designed to mask her staggering boredom. When the old man wobbled back to his chair and sat down, she slumped and looked down at her desk. For the fourth time that evening, she began rearranging the paper clips around its polished top, lining them up end-to-end to make vulgar phrases in a flowing, zinc-coated script. Being a nurse had its perks, but being a nurse in a freezing, wet country in the middle of the fall was not part of what she had envisioned. Even with the fire blazing in the fireplace and the little fire ward glowing under her chair, it was too cold for a Manticore, and she had to keep her tail wrapped around her leg just to keep it from getting chilled. She would be damned if she was going to take the suggestion of wrapping it in a giant knitted sock. She was so sick of hearing that suggestion over and over again that she had taken to the habit of wearing a slightly shorter skirt than usual, just to show that she had what it took, even in the cold. It was a protest that, unbeknownst to her, failed utterly, because the advice givers in question didn’t care what she wore and she was still freezing her ass off anyway.

     Lazily, she poked a paper clip into its final position, forming a cursive “F”, draping her wings about her shoulders like a cape. She was about to start forming the “U” when there was a scrabbling at the doorknob. The bell rang in an off-beat rhythm, suggesting that someone was having trouble getting a grip on the bell-rope. After it stopped, a rapid knocking began.

     Lily quickly stood up and went to the door, knowing it would likely be an emergency. Even still, she dreaded opening the door to the freezing rain and cold wind outside, and she braced for both. She yanked the door open and looked down to see a panting, sopping wet Harpy shivering on the stoop, looking up at her with anxious eyes. Acting upon finely honed medical instinct, Lily looked for blood, and saw none. She scanned the drenched creature for displaced bones, a bad complexion, shortness of breath, anything that would, upon first sight, justify her having to leave her relatively warm seat to face the hazards of the storm by opening the door herself. When none of these became immediately obvious and it was apparent that she was in fact looking at a rather healthy, robust (but very cold) specimen, her professional demeanor suffered a sharp surge of anger.

     “Yes?”  She said, snippiness edging into her voice. The thunder rolled again, as if on queue.



<p style="text-align: center; line-height:115%;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:10pt;margin-left:0pt;margin-left:0pt;margin-right:0pt;margin-right:0pt;text-indent:0pt;text-indent:0pt;text-align:center;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">--

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<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">“You know good and well that Regina won’t take no for an answer, Cosette. You’re going to have to visit sooner or later, or she’ll just wind up cornering you when the baby is delivered. You  <span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;font-style:italic;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">are <span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;"> going to be there for the baby’s unveiling, right? Sodium sulfate.”  Thomas squinted at the ledger of stored chemicals as he spoke, not looking up.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     The black-colored Arachne behind him peered into a small wooden box with dozens of neatly arranged bottles inside. “I will be there for the delivery, Thomas, that and the birthday party both. Whether or not I am cornered remains to be seen. Four.”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     He squinted at the tiny columns on the paper. “You sure about that?”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     A pause. “The party, or the sodium sulfate?”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “Both. You don’t seem very enthusiastic. And it says we have five.”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     Cosette huffed, drumming her front four legs on the floor. “Mary, that damn Holstaur! She never marks when she takes from the common cabinet. Thomas, why do you never get on to her about that? Why? Are you just going to let her get away with shorting the inventory week after week?”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “If she were anything less than the most talented apothecist I’ve ever seen, no, I wouldn’t. But the fact is, she puts everyone else I know to shame. I was raised by Elves, and if anyone should know plants, it’s the Elves. Mary has forgotten more about botanical pharmaceuticals than most Elven healers will ever know. She’s a genius. And if she forgets to dock the occasional hundred CCs of sodium sulfate, I’ll let that slide.”  Thomas pivoted in his chair, looking at Cosette. “And stop changing the subject.”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “I’m not changing the subject,” Cosette sighed, “I’m just saying that we should watch what we let go. Our budget was smaller this month because of all the new itinerants. And if Mary’s a genius, then she should remember to mark the ledger. That’s all I’m saying.”   She gingerly closed the lid and put the box back on the shelf. After a moment’s thought, she wrapped it with a nearly invisible, but incredibly strong band of silk from her spinneret. “And really, Thomas. ‘Genius?’  I think that’s being a little…generous, don’t you?”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     Thomas threw his hands up. “She works for free, Cosette! What do you want me to do, have her owe the clinic? Fire her?”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “No, but having her practice some basic inventory skills isn’t too much to ask, I don’t think. She was literally raised in a barn.”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     Thomas looked at the box as Cosette wrapped it in silk. “Stop that,” he said wearily.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “Why? It might teach her a lesson the next time she decides to treat it as if it were petty cash.”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “And what if I ever need to get inside?”  He hunched back over the ledger.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     She set the box down heavily. “Whatever for? You have healing magic!”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “Take it off, Cosette.”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     She smiled a secret smile. “It was worth it just to hear you utter that phrase.”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “Off. Now, please.”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     She scowled and cut the layers of silk off of the storage box.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     Thomas sighed as he dipped his quill in the well. “As I was saying, not all geniuses are found within the walls of academia, Cosette. Everyone is good at something, and Mary’s exceptional at what she does. She was saving lives and delivering babies long before we ever showed up, without either you or I to get in her way. And my gods, the woman can bake! I can’t bake. Can you?”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “Of course she can bake. The woman is three hundred pounds! You don’t get that way by – “

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     A quick knock, and the door burst in. Lily appeared in the doorway, wide-eyed.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “Doctor? You need to come downstairs immediately, please.”

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<p style="text-align: center; line-height:115%;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:10pt;margin-left:0pt;margin-left:0pt;margin-right:0pt;margin-right:0pt;text-indent:0pt;text-indent:0pt;text-align:center;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">--

<p align="center" style="line-height:115%;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:10pt;margin-left:0pt;margin-left:0pt;margin-right:0pt;margin-right:0pt;text-indent:0pt;text-indent:0pt;text-align:center;">

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     Thomas hurried up to the Harpy as she squatted by the fireplace, sipping hot tea from a carefully held mug. He knew that something had to be wrong---Harpies never braved this kind of weather, unless they had a very good reason. His face wrinkled in recognition. He slowed his pace so he could think…he knew her, helped her somehow. His mind whirled, passing through thousands of images, until he came to hers. Instinctively, his voice slipped into the gently authoritative tone that he used when he was sure of something. It put people at ease.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “Ellie…Ellie Harver? You’re the navigator for one of the cargo brigs, right? Your sister was having trouble with her egg a couple of years back, you came to get me?”   He sat on the edge of a nearby chair, folding his hands. “You must be freezing, dear. What seems to be the problem? Is your sister doing all right?”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     Ellie perked up at having been recognized. She stood and looked at Thomas, grinning slightly. “Aye, Mabel’s fine, Doc, don’t you worry nothing ‘bout her! She’s fit as a fiddle and fat with a third egg!”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “I’m glad to hear that.”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “And I’m glad to be sayin’ it. We owe ya for that one, sir.”  Her eyes wandered, looking uneasy. “Listen, mate, sorry for botherin’ you like this, but there’s…ahh, this is goin’ to sound weird, but…”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     Thomas shrugged. “Try me. It’s been a slow day.”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “Somethin’s happened. Somethin’...off. Hear me out.”  She took a deep breath. “We was out on the Iver sound, down south a ways. With the storm rollin’ up, we decided to call it in, ‘cause the captain wasn’t too keen on losin’ his shipment for want of an extra day’s time. We was comin’ up on the bar, ready to put her in and wait it out, what with the gale making things worse. We got her up to the rigs, and was loading her up to the hoists…”  her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper,  “when one of the boys saw it on the rocks.”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     The pause lingered. Thomas gestured with his hand. “Saw…what, Ellie?”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “The monster, Doc. A thing, a dark thing on the rocks! It howled, Doc, howled above the wind like a ghost, its voice curdlin’ my blood just thinking about it!”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     Thomas glared at the Harpy. “And this has exactly what to do with me, Ellie?”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “Yes, tell the Doctor what you told me!” Lily said, folding her arms.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     Ellie huffed at having her embellished seaman’s tale cut short. “Fine. Listen, Doc, this is the truth. I know the boys can be a bit…superstitious, and they sometimes want to think they see things that ain’t there. Well, this thing, it was there. And it was wailing, I can tell you that. But…”  A look of guilt washed over her face. “I…don’t think that sound was made by a ghost, or monster, or none such. I think it were made by something else. Something in pain.”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “In pain?”  Thomas sat upright. “Why didn’t you say this in the first place? Is it still there?”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “The boys are watching it for now, after I told ‘em I was comin’ to get you,” she shrugged.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “Ellie, tell me truthfully. Do you think you saw a person there, on that rock? Is that why you came here?”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     Ellie squirmed under the hard look. “Maybe. But I didn’t do nothin’!”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “People doing nothing is exactly how people in need  die,” Thomas growled, leaping up and striding over to the coat rack. He got several of the buttons misaligned in his haste before Lily helped him. “Cosette, have everything ready for potential hypothermia and sodium poisoning. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”  He called the last phrase as he dashed up the stairs to his teleportation pad.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “Be careful, Doctor,” Lily shouted. A clap of thunder shook the clinic that they knew was not from the storm.

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<p style="text-align: center; line-height:115%;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:10pt;margin-left:0pt;margin-left:0pt;margin-right:0pt;margin-right:0pt;text-indent:0pt;text-indent:0pt;text-align:center;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">--

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<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     Wendel Mackelroy was only fourteen, and Byron Poons was forty, but the visual difference between the two of them might as well have been a hundred years. Life at sea had a way of doing that to a boy, taking him at his most fallow and breaking him, almost overnight, into something wholly different. The salt water and knot tying and horrible food and sheer boredom punctuated with bowel-emptying terror flipped a hidden switch in a man, skipping entirely the age of doe-eyed adolescence and planting him firmly in the age of weathered skin, callouses, bad teeth and worse grammar. To that end, the two men that stood side-by-side in the pouring rain and failing light looked like a before-and-after picture, and Wendel was so skinny and Byron was so fat, they also, when together, resembled the number ten.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     They shivered in unison, the cold water pouring from their hats and onto their leather slickers as they looked at the dark lump on top of the rock. It was a ship’s length away, but they could see it in the constant strobe of lightning. Occasionally it moved.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “When do you think she’s coming back with the doc?”  Wendel ventured, his voice cracking. His voice came in white puffs as it crossed the beam of his lantern, held high.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “She ain’t, lad,”  Byron said, chewing on a corncob pipe that hadn’t been lit in six years. “She’s by a fireside somewheres, drinking hot toddy and laughing at us soggy bastards while we stand here and – “

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     The dark thing moved, and a high-pitched wail carried over on the wind. Waves crashed against the rocks, lit like leaping ghosts by the lightning. Wendel and Byron visibly shuddered in their boots, their lanterns rocking unsteadily. Byron clutched the harpoon in his right hand a little tighter and there was a CRUNCH as he accidentally bit the stem of his pipe off.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “Byron, why are we standing here?” Wendel said, his voice a shrieking whisper.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “Cause, lad, someone’s got ta look into this, and that doctor is supposed to be a wizard o’ some such,” Byron said, his voice edging into doubt. “What if that there thing were a bloody monster?”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “I’d wind up getting married?”  Wendel ventured hopefully, his voice cracking again.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “No, you daft idiot! A REAL monster! The like that sucks a man’s bones from ‘is body in ‘is sleep! The kind that calls yer name in the moonlight, pullin’ ya ever closer to yer grave…”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     A bolt of purple-tinted lightning struck behind some rocks to their left, against the crags, making Byron drop his harpoon and spit out his pipe, the other half of which he swallowed on accident. He hardly noticed.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     The two men watched as a dark figure hurried out from behind the outcropping. A small light hovered above it like a brilliant candle, while rain bounced off of an invisible sphere that was around it, making a sort of glittering wet ball that bobbed towards them at a jog.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “W-w-w-Will-o-the-Wisp!” stammered Wendel. Byron tried to heft the harpoon but it slipped out of his hand, and by the time he had stooped to retrieve it, the figure was upon them.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     It was Thomas. The rain bounced off of his spherical shield ward in glistening sheets, while a pinpoint, brilliant light illuminated everything from above, following him like a tiny sun. It showed only his face and torso in the now absent light, and the two would have broken and run at the sight of him if their knees hadn’t given out already.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     Thomas trudged up. “Ellie sent me,” he half-shouted above the storm.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     The two shuddering figures regarded him with open mouths. “F-f-from beyond the grave?” Wendel stammered.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     There was a pause. If there was any time in which Thomas looked like a vengeful spirit, it was now. His voice took and edge. “No, you godsdamned fool! Ellie, your Harpy navigator! You sent her to the capital to find me! I’m the doctor!”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     “The wizard!”  Byron stood up hastily, almost cutting himself on the hook of his harpoon. “Over there, sir, on them rocks! Let yer eyes adjust a bit, you’ll see it!”  He pointed a shaking finger like a fat, quivering sausage. “Don’t go close just yet, sir, or you’ll…”

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     But Thomas had already pivoted and was trudging in the direction the obese, toothless man had pointed. He could see the rocks, dangerously close to the water, washed over with every thundering sweep of the sea. He saw the dark shape.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     The beach was not sand. It was a narrow, ugly, treacherous strip of slate rocks that sloped rapidly downwards towards into the sea, and in the darkness of the night, they resembled nothing so much as an endless strip of shattered tombstones, mercilessly clawed by the hissing, vengeful ghosts that were the ocean. The addition of the storm made it about one of the most treacherous places one could be in the natural world, and now, Thomas was wading into it, his shield ward slapped by the waves as they tried to grab him and drag him into darkness. He was almost eye level with the top of the distant rock now, making it easy to see from the beach, but he knew that the beach sloped rapidly down and he was going to have to get to the rock first, and then climb it. His ward wavered unsteadily under the slam of the waves, and he had to adjust its force, pulling his legs up inside it so that he was entirely inside the ball. It swayed unsteadily under the buffeting of the relentless water, and he had to get on his hands and knees to steer it towards the rock. It moved forward under his command, but he had to fight---he struggled to maintain its buoyancy as well as its direction in a straight line. He wanted to be careful; any flight on his part might disturb whatever was there, or interfere with other magicks in the area, if there were any. Slowly, like a glittering, wet, spherical tortoise, he rolled towards the rock.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     There was a surge, slamming him up against the slate face. His ward held, but he almost lost control; thrusting his hands from the sphere he grabbed a ledge of rock and pulled himself close. He adjusted his shield now; he made it contract to the point to where it mostly hugged his torso and head, leaving his arms and legs free. He gasped as the icy water instantly soaked his limbs. Slowly, awkwardly, he pulled himself up, the waves bouncing off of his shield as he gasped and hauled himself over the top, his body losing strength from the freezing water. As quickly as he could manage he stood and, thrusting out his arms, expanded the shield to cover the entire top of the rock. Eerie silence filled the globe as he raised his hovering light into the air. He cast a heat ward and it followed him, a glowing circle, warming his numb body as he advanced.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     Slowly, cautiously, he stepped forward. He saw the shape now. It was much smaller than he had believed. Perhaps the dark had been playing tricks on his eyes. It was small---diminutive, splayed on the rock like a slender, cast-off doll, its limbs in unnatural angles. Gray, and pale. Breathing.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     He crept forward, lowering his light so he could get a better look. It quivered, ribbons of deep red crossing its body, crimson seawater forming little pools of frightening size. He knelt, getting closer, and knew.

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     He choked. Knives of fear shivered up his spine, rising from his feet and up into his chest, that piercing, black dread that is a father’s worst nightmare…

<p style="line-height:115%;margin:0pt0pt10pt;text-indent:0pt;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:"TimesNewRoman";font-size:9pt;font-weight:normal;color:rgb(0,0,0);text-shadow:none;background:none;">     A thin, helpless wail rose from the form, and the knives were suddenly gone. Thomas’ paternal instinct leapt up like a lion, and he began working feverishly. His breath came in warm, fierce words, fierce to give strength to the one whom he hoped could hear them. Fire to quell the lumps in his throat.

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<p style="line-height:115%;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:10pt;margin-left:0pt;margin-left:0pt;margin-right:0pt;margin-right:0pt;text-indent:0pt;text-indent:0pt;text-align:left;"><span dir="LTR" style="font-family:TimesNewRoman;font-size:9pt;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;font-emphasize-style:none;font-weight:normal;text-transform:none;color:#000000;background:none;text-shadow:none;">    “It’s all right, sweetie, it’s all right…”