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Ghost's Dilemma

Page 10

by Morwen Navarre


  "Thank you," Ghost replied, but his expression didn't warm. "Natali will be at the warehouse waiting." He paused, and Gerry wished they were alone so he could plead his case with Ghost. Ghost, however, didn't seem eager to talk.

  "I'll just go wash, then." Gerry returned to the bedroom to gather clean clothing and a towel. When he came back out, Ghost was gone.

  Washing didn't take Gerry long, and he stopped only for a quick drink of water before he went to find some strong backs to help move the sick. Moran's house was his first stop. As he walked through the village, he noticed chalk marks on some of the doors, although Moran's door was unmarked. Moran was quick to agree to help and was able to offer an explanation of the chalk marks. Ghost had been along already this morning, at dawn, marking the doors of the sick needing to be moved to the infirmary.

  All through the village, people were aware of the new infirmary, and the unfamiliar word was on everyone's lips. Plenty of volunteers arrived from among the healthy villagers. Gerry was surprised how many of them told the same tale as Mother and Conn, a brief brush with the illness and back to solid health. They had no fear of dealing with the sick people.

  As they moved people, Gerry wondered where Ghost had gone, but there was no time to look. Conn had found a case of a young and very pregnant woman in the last throes of the plague, blood dripping from her nose and mouth.

  When they delivered her to the infirmary, Natali directed Mother and Conn to take the woman to the room with the infants. Gerry looked at her in confusion, and Natali sighed. "She might give birth, and it's better for her to be with other women who would recognize the early signs of labor far faster than a room full of old men."

  Gerry saw the sense in Natali's decision. A chance existed, slim but still a chance, the babe would be strong enough to survive. Plenty of dams who had lost babes would be happy to nurse an infant and maybe offer the child a home.

  The nooning came and went before Gerry had an opportunity to take a break. Conn brought a large pot of soup as well as the promised eggs. Mai and Merrah helped to feed the sick, both of them gentle and kind as they made sure everyone had at least something warm. Natali prepared the infusion Ghost had given her according to his instructions and made her rounds of her patients.

  Gerry accepted a bowl of soup from Mai. "Have you seen Ghost anywhere?" he asked.

  "I haven't, actually. He was here earlier. I'd swear by the Lady he was." Mai frowned. "I saw him marking doors very early, and he asked if I could help. Have I seen him since then?" Her frown deepened as she thought back.

  "No matter. I'll find him." Gerry smiled to set Mai at ease. After a quick word to Natali, he left the warehouse to look for Ghost.

  Gerry cut through the market, the streets far too quiet, with far too many of the traders missing. He wondered how many were ill and how many were just afraid. He wandered through the surrounding streets, seeing a great many smudged chalk marks but no Ghost. The volunteers had taken to smearing the chalk on houses they had visited, and only a few untouched marks remained. Gerry decided to head back home, hoping Ghost had perhaps returned there.

  Ghost was leaving the house as Gerry entered the yard. He was wearing a heavy leather tunic and breeches, with tall boots. A leather pouch was slung over Ghost's right shoulder and a water skin over the left. Ghost held the sind cloak Gerry had made, his pale face expressionless.

  "Ghost?" Gerry said, and he could hear the uncertainty in his own voice. "I was hoping we could talk."

  Ghost shook his head, and he took a deep breath before he met Gerry's eyes. "I have to go."

  "Where?" Gerry asked. "When were you going to tell me?" He took a few steps forward, closer to Ghost. "Can't we talk before you run away?"

  "I'm not running away." Ghost's voice was sharp. "Seeker guide me, you're making this harder. I need to find the Witch. I need the answers she has."

  "You said yourself she's in the Northlands," Gerry protested. "The passes are all snowed in by now. There's no way you can get through on your own." Gerry held up his hand as Ghost opened his mouth. "I'm not saying this because I think you're helpless or weak. A caravan is lucky to come out of those passes with anyone still alive once the snows have started. You won't even have the protection of wagons and tents and other warm bodies."

  "I'm a witch, Gerry. We have our own ways of doing things. I can get to the Northlands well enough." Ghost's voice was flat. "Did you see the pregnant woman? She's reached the point where I'm pretty sure I can't save her. Them. We're going to lose her and her unborn babe. Who'll be next? Women who've just given birth and who've seen their babes die? Will they succumb next? I have to do this. I know no one will understand, not even you, but I have to do this."

  "How are you going to find one woman in the Northlands? It's vast, Ghost. You could wander for years and not find her." Gerry dared to reach out, but his fingers barely brushed Ghost's cheek before Ghost flinched away. "Ghost."

  "You questioned me for trying to ease death for some of the dying. Look at it this way. I won't be killing anyone while I'm gone." Ghost's voice held enough bitterness to make Gerry's stomach tighten. "Maybe by the time I come back, you'll have found it in your heart to forgive me, or to at least understand why I did what I did. In the meantime, you'll have Natali to care for the sick. She might use the Seeker's rest too, but you won't hold those deaths against her like you do me. It won't bother you so much if it's not your dependent doing the killing."

  "Ghost, I don't think you're a killer. I was wrong," Gerry said. His heart ached. Ghost had said dependent. Did he believe Gerry no longer saw him as his mate? Gerry had no way to know, and the pain hit him like a blow. "I was a fucking blind idiot. I wish I could unsay the words, but I can't. I'm sorry, Ghost. I'm so fucking sorry. Please don't go."

  "I'm not leaving only because you don't trust me or because we've argued. I don't have a choice. I have to go because no one else can find the Witch but me." Ghost's pale blue eyes searched Gerry's face. "I can See her, when no one else can. She put this witchmark on me, stone by stone. We're linked in a way no one else can match."

  "Then let me go with you," Gerry said. He reached for Ghost again, and this time Ghost didn't pull away. Gerry held him close, letting out a shaky breath as he buried his face in Ghost's hair. "We'll find her together."

  "If you leave with me, they'll say we both ran away," Ghost said, his voice muffled in Gerry's cloak. "If you're here, they might believe I'll come back. Please, Gerry. I need to go alone. We talked about this. You said you would let me go if I needed to. I need you to be strong enough to let me leave."

  "Can you promise me you'll come back?" Gerry lifted Ghost's chin and searched his eyes with desperate urgency. "Did you See yourself back home with me?"

  "Seeing doesn't work that way. I See what the Seeker shows me. Most of the time, the vision barely makes sense. I'd have given anything to See me coming home to you, but I'd be lying if I said I did." Ghost didn't look away from him.

  Because he could think of nothing better to do, Gerry kissed Ghost. The kiss was tender and full of the grief Gerry couldn't find words to describe, and his throat ached with the effort of holding back another flurry of pleading. Ghost returned the kiss, fingers sliding into Gerry's hair.

  "Come back," Gerry said when they finally broke apart. "Don't promise, because I know you can't. Just tell me you want to come back to me."

  "More than anything," Ghost whispered, and Gerry could hear sorrow in his voice. "I love you. I'm sorry I can't be perfect. But I do love you. Now... "

  "I don't need you to be perfect, beloved." Gerry's voice broke. "I need you to be my Ghost."

  Ghost moaned, raw and full of pain. He shook his head, one hand splayed against Gerry's chest. "Please, Gerry. Let me go before I forget how to be strong enough to do this."

  Watching Ghost walk away was harder than Gerry thought possible. When he didn't look back, Gerry had to force himself to stand still. He watched until Ghost disappeared from sight. Gerry sighed a
nd turned back toward the house with a hollow ache in his heart.

  Chapter 10

  Ghost could feel Gerry's stare at his back, but he couldn't turn around. He would drop his pouch and water skin and run to the safety of Gerry's strong arms. He knew he would. Ghost had forgiven Gerry with one look in those amazing green eyes with their flecks of rich brown. For a moment, he contemplated abandoning this futile quest and remaining here, with Gerry, to deal with the epidemic as best he could on his own. But he steeled his will. His purpose repeated like a mantra in his head. The Witch holds the solution and my duty is to seek her out. To save lives. I will return to you, love. Hold me in your heart until you hold me in your arms again.

  Ghost shouldered his pouch and walked the path to the Witch's house. He had told Natali how to find the Witch's house, so she would have a place to stay if she needed some respite from tending the sick of the village. It was a perfect place for a witch, after all, and she could use the witchglass there to feed her own gods' light. For himself, the path would take him along the edge of the ruined city where he had hidden when young and heartsore.

  A peculiar sense of loss enveloped Ghost as he walked past the yard. He had spent most of his life in this small house with the Witch. She had been everything to him for so long. Perhaps she had not been the warmest of people, but she had made sure Ghost knew he had a home with her. When he had shown an interest in her lore, the Witch had taught him with unexpected patience. Her home had been a haven for a lonely boy filled with visions. Just for a moment, he let himself have the luxury of wanting to be the Witch's apprentice once more.

  The formulary indicated the station was located outside the ruins, north and west of the former city. Ghost decided to take the trail that skirted the ruins because what was left of the city was unstable and often impassable due to collapsed buildings.

  Prudence also dictated he avoid the ruins, although Ghost knew several paths through the city itself. As Gerry had pointed out, he was alone, and exiled rangers prowled the ruins. While they were generally more intent on scavenging what relics they could, he was not willing to take more risks than strictly necessary.

  From this vantage on the outskirts, Ghost could tell the city must have been breathtaking when it was still thriving and vital. The ravages of time and scavenging had left their mark, and many of the buildings had all but crumbled to the ground. Still, enough of the city remained to spark imagination. The Witch had shown Ghost a book once, with crystal-clear images of the cities, the tall buildings lit with glowing points of light like an array of stars.

  But Ghost needed to get to the station, and he couldn't afford to waste time. The epidemic was not going to wait while he had foolish Sea-dreams. The path was obscure by design, but the witchmarks were there if one knew how to read them. Ghost navigated his way through the undergrowth of the forested area, keeping the ruins to his right side.

  The afternoon wore on as Ghost walked, and the shadows of the trees danced as the sun dropped closer to the horizon. Going by the witchmarks, he had a way to go yet, and night would fall before he arrived at the station. He didn't like the idea of camping alone out in the open, so he decided to push onward. The moon was bright enough, and he would find his way.

  Despite having a good idea of where he was going, Ghost came close to missing the station. The entrance was overgrown, and even autumn had not removed the thick layer of vines camouflaging the entryway. If a stray bit of moonlight had not glinted off the door at exactly the right angle, Ghost might have passed it by.

  The formulary had provided a code to be input on the pad of buttons by the entry. The moment Ghost touched the pad, light flared, and he pulled his hand back in surprise. He huffed a small breath in relief when nothing else happened, and he pressed the buttons in the correct sequence. He took a step backward as the door slid open, disappearing into what looked like a solid rock wall.

  "Seeker guide me," Ghost whispered. He stepped into the opening, flinching when a line of lights appeared along the bottom of the wall on either side, illuminating part of a flight of stairs leading down. Ghost took the first few steps with caution. As he descended, the lights in front of him extended farther ahead, while the lights behind him blinked out. The door slid closed, leaving Ghost to decide if he wanted to continue down or to try to open the door again.

  No dust gathered on the stairs, and the air was fresh and cool, which didn't make him feel any more secure. Ghost mustered all his nerve to keep going forward. If he went back, he couldn't guarantee he would not flee back to the village.

  The floor leveled out at last, the faint lights along the walls spreading outward to indicate a larger space than the stairs. Ghost took a deep breath and reached out a hand. The walls were cool, polished stone. The upper line of lights expanded at a rapid pace, and the increased illumination seemed almost too bright after the dim trip down the stairs.

  "Hello?" Ghost's voice echoed off the smooth walls. "Lady smile on you, from a traveler."

  Ghost waited in silence for a long moment. A soft chime followed by a female voice echoed through the room, the words unintelligible, repeated over and over at increasing speed.

  "Hello?" Ghost tried again.

  "Hello. Welcome to terminal station nineteen. Please proceed to the main terminal." The female voice was soft, the words cadenced in an unfamiliar way, but understandable at last.

  What the words might mean was something else altogether. Ghost took out his formulary, hoping for a bit of guidance. The journal's entry offered only a partial explanation, directing him to a main room where he could find a map. He glanced up from his book and noticed lights in the floor itself were pulsing green, as if to guide him in a specific direction. Having no better notion, he followed the lights into a much larger room, the vaulted ceiling almost invisible in the dim light.

  To Ghost's relief, a large map occupied most of one wall, and he walked over to examine the display. The map bore little resemblance to the Witch's drawings in the sandy soil when he was a boy, and he frowned as he peered at it. Several lines in bright colors traversed the map, with small points on the lines marked by tiny glass domes. One point was flashing, and he read the symbols with care. Terminal station nineteen. Ghost wondered if it was possible the flashing light signaled his present location. With the bit of information and his theory, he was able to make out the ring of mountains forming the boundary of the Heartlands. His finger followed the line upward, past the ring, and into a rising crest of mountains.

  "The Northlands," Ghost whispered.

  "Please repeat. Terminal station the Northlands not recognized." The female voice sounded closer, and Ghost stepped away from the map in haste, casting around like a runner scenting sind.

  He was still alone in the large room, and he waited until his heart had settled down to a more normal rhythm before he stepped close to the map again. He examined the small domes punctuating the line leading north, each dot with its own bit of writing in the ancient symbols. He bit back a sigh of disappointment as he looked at them. The map was not going to have a legend saying, "The Witch is here." His eye caught a subtle difference, and Ghost leaned closer.

  One dome had a faint smudge on it, as if a finger had brushed over it. Ghost felt a charge of excitement. He read the words next to the smudged dome and nodded to himself.

  Stepping back from the map, Ghost said, "Terminal station eight." He felt silly speaking to thin air, but apparently the station didn't agree.

  "Terminal station eight. Departure is imminent from substation three. Please proceed to the substation." The female voice was cool and unruffled, and Ghost fought the urge to look around again.

  Instead, Ghost glanced at the lights in the floor. A flashing green line urged him to walk farther into the room. The hesitancy Ghost felt earlier was giving way to curiosity, and he followed the green line through an archway and down a corridor. Featureless, black panels were set into the walls here. Ghost thought one or two might have flickered as he went pas
t, but he didn't linger to investigate.

  The green lights stopped at a large symbol on the floor. Ghost recognized it as the ancient number mark for three. He noticed a channel with a luminescent edge, set in the floor. An inky-black tunnel loomed at the far end of the channel. He started to walk closer to the edge, seeing a faint glimmer in the depths of the tunnel, but he didn't quite reach the mark. Instead, he froze as a silver barrel -- a carriage, Zereda had said -- flashed into sight and stopped along the edge of the floor with a gentle hiss.

  The front end of the carriage was tapered, almost elegant, with a brilliant white light at the tip. A door in the side slid open, much as the door on the surface had opened, revealing the inside of the carriage. Ghost moved closer, cautious, peering inside at the comfortable-looking benches and the soft lighting.

  "Please step into the car. Departure is imminent." The female voice startled Ghost, and he stepped into the carriage without thinking. The door slid closed, and Ghost found himself off balance as the voice continued. "Please be seated for departure."

  Simple reflex made Ghost obey and sit, and the carriage began to move forward. The walls had a row of flat black panels, smaller versions of those on the walls of the station, but the panels were just as blank. The carriage hummed and picked up speed, and Ghost had to swallow hard several times while he tried to adjust to the sensation of moving while sitting still. Ghost shuddered as he took in the lack of windows, almost as unsettling as mysterious voices from nowhere in the station. He had no idea where he was, or if he was going to the right place. Even if he had windows, he would not have known any more.

  After a time, the carriage settled into a steady motion. Ghost took a deep breath and decided to explore. Getting the carriage to move had taken little beyond choosing where he wanted to go, but Zereda had mentioned feeding the carriage. He wondered if the process was similar to feeding his gods' light or Seeker's kiss. If so, he would need a source of energy like his witchglass. Perhaps the panels on the wall were such a source? Zereda was confident he would find out, and Ghost decided to trust her wisdom.

 

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