Moon In The Mirror by Frost P. R

Author:Frost, P. R. [Frost, P. R.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Daw
Published: 2007-09-03T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27

Celtic people of Europe revered rivers, lakes, and ponds, and in particular springs. They were especially sacred to Eostre, the Goddess of the Moon, fertility, and healing. They cast votive offerings to the Goddess into water sources, a tradition held over in the wishing well.

AFTER MY ENCOUNTER with Gollum in the cellar I didn’t want to be alone, where I’d have to think about our conversation. So I stopped in to see my aunt.

“I want to go home,” MoonFeather stated the moment I poked my head inside her door.

“That’s not such a good idea, MoonFeather.” I sat on the edge of her mattress and looked deeply into her eyes.

She’d banished the fogginess of the pain pills. New creases at the corners of her mouth told me she still hurt. A lot. But didn’t want the drugs to interfere with her thinking.

“I can get around my house as easily as I can here on crutches. More easily since my floors are level and I don’t have to go up or down two inches every time I move from one room to the next.” She crossed her arms in a huff.

“That’s part of the charm of living in an old house.” I tried to dismiss her concerns with a blasé gesture.

“It’s a pain in the ass,” she snorted. Her sense of humor began to shine through. It still had several layers of pain and willfulness to peel away though.

“I may be able to speed the healing a little if you will trust me,” I offered cautiously.

“How?”

“Scrap.”

“The imp?” Her focus narrowed to my left shoulder, and I wondered, not for the first time, if she could see him.

This was getting spooky. I wondered if our lengthy stay in the world outside the Citadel thinned the layers of invisibility around Scrap.

“Yes,” I said cautiously. “Scrap, can you lick MoonFeather’s wounds to negate some of the Orculli toxins? ”

Don’t know, babe. I can do it for you. We are bonded.

I translated for my aunt. "MoonFeather and I share common blood origins. Will that help?”

I can only try.

“Just a little to begin. How long should we wait to see if it affects her negatively?”

Not long, dahling. If I’m toxic to her, she’ll feel the first drop of imp spit.

“Go for it, Scrap. Remember, just a little around the edges to begin.” I lifted one corner of her bandages, exposing two stitches that closed the horrible gash. A little blood seeped around the sutures and a surgical iodine solution stained her skin a hideous orange-red.

Scrap dropped to the mattress. He cocked his head, staring at the wound for three long heartbeats. His little snubbed nose worked, separating the individual scents of blood, skin, antibiotics, painkillers, and whatever mixed in MoonFeather’s blood. Then his forked tongue whipped out and in. One drop of dried blood disappeared.

Tastes weird, Scrap confessed. It’s you but not you. He looked immensely satisfied.

I watched MoonFeather’s face for any trace of change in color or texture.

“Well, what’s happening?” she asked impatiently.

“I think Scrap can continue.

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