Resurrection by Stephen Cole

Author:Stephen Cole
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing

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CHAPTER TWELVE

Jicaque took Tom into the other bedroom and spent what seemed like an age just chanting ancient texts and applying pressure to different points on his face and neck. In the rooms beyond, Tom could hear the sound of hasty packing. Blood wanted them to move out as soon as possible; it might not be safe for them here any longer.

‘Your nervous system still holds the scars of the codechanters’ assault,’ Jicaque explained. ‘I hope I can heal the damage.’

‘Not as much as I do,’ sighed Tom. ‘How’d you learn this stuff? Is it Shipapi knowledge?’ Tom knew that Jicaque was descended from an ancient order of missionaries, pledged to defend humanity from werewolf predators. They took their weird name from an old Pueblo word, meaning womb of the earth, the place from which the first humans entered the world.

‘The incantations are obscure, even for one of the Shipapi,’ said Jicaque, smiling faintly. ‘Lucky for you I’ve been cramming, absorbing all the ancient knowledge I can, in anticipation of my final battle.’

Tom frowned. ‘Final battle?’

Jicaque took his old, leathery fingers from Tom’s temples and looked at him, thoughtfully. ‘The Shipapi knew of Stubbe, Tom. When the first Dutch colonies were founded in America in 1624, they brought with them word of ’wolves at work in Europe. Shipapi missionaries were dispatched there to bring those ’wolves to heel.’

‘So what went wrong?’ Tom murmured.

‘The missionaries failed.’ He laughed mirthlessly. ‘They saw Stubbe executed, but his followers eluded them. If, indeed, they ever seriously tried to fulfil their sacred duty, for it would seem they were not strong men.’

Tom looked at the old medicine man. ‘How’d you know so much about this?’

‘I am descended directly from one of those missionaries,’ said Jicaque. ‘And I too have been guilty of neglecting my sacred trust, of letting lupine evil fester and grow.’

‘You’ve made up for it since I’ve known you,’ Tom assured him. ‘You stopped Takapa in New York, you cured those poor people he turned ’wolf …’

‘Yes, I cured them,’ agreed the old Native American. ‘But I could have prevented their nightmare becoming a reality. I resolve to do so now, or to die trying.’ A slow smile stretched his leathery skin. ‘Though in truth, I am not a brave man, and would rather live forever if at all possible.’

Tom grinned. ‘I’m with you on that one.’

‘Then dress yourself, get packed, and we shall move on to safer quarters,’ said Jicaque.

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Kate was relieved to see Tom looking, if not the picture of health, then at least a rough cartoon of it. Even Stacy seemed impressed with the change in him, though of course she would never give Jicaque the credit.

‘Good thing I brought the car here,’ said Sunday as they bundled into the elevator together. ‘Be a bit of a squeeze, six of us in Blood’s car.’

‘Nothing wrong with the odd bit of squeezing,’ Blood observed, glancing slyly down at Stacy.

Sunday noticed, and smiled. She was looking a little better for a half-hour spent lying down with a cold cloth over her eyes.

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