Touch of Lightning

by Carin Rafferty

  “Of course.” Sebastian heard Ryan kneel across from him as he continued, “It’s just that you wore sunglasses when I saw you before, so I was shocked when I saw your eyes. What happened to the woman?”

  “We were struck by the talisman’s lightning, and—”

  “You were struck by lightning?”

  “It was magical lightning,” Sebastian explained impatiently. “It shouldn’t have made her pass out.”

  “Yeah, well, let’s lay her on the ground so I can examine her.”

  When Ryan started to shift Sarah out of Sebastian’s arms, he found himself reluctant to let her go. Something inside him insisted that as long as he held her she’d be safe, but if he let her go, something would happen to her. He knew the feeling was absurd, so he forced himself to release her.

  “How’s Sarah?” he finally asked when several seconds passed without any comment from Ryan.

  “She’s asleep.”

  Sebastian frowned, sure he’d misunderstood. “Asleep? She’s completely out of it. If she were just asleep, couldn’t we wake her up?”

  “If we really tried, we might be able to, but I suggest we leave her alone,” Ryan replied. “I’ve seen a few cases like this, and generally, the person is escaping from some emotional trauma she isn’t ready to face. I suspect the lightning frightened her so badly that she’s retreated for a while. When she’s ready to deal with what happened, she’ll wake up on her own. By the way, here are your sunglasses. You might want to put them on in case someone else shows up. Your eyes are . . . startling, to say the least.”

  Sebastian took the glasses and slipped them on while considering what Ryan had said about Sarah. He knew the lightning wouldn’t have frightened her, but she had been overly upset before it struck them. Indeed, she’d been so distraught that she’d told him he had to kill her before . . .

  Before what? he wondered, realizing she hadn’t completed the sentence. What had she been trying to tell him? What had the talisman done to her to make her feel she had to die immediately?

  He shuddered involuntarily, knowing that for her to beg for death and then fall into such a deep sleep, the talisman had either told her or shown her something horrible. If he’d learned nothing else about Sarah, it was that she was psychologically strong. Otherwise, she’d have surrendered to the talisman long before now.

  “What?” he said, realizing Ryan had spoken.

  “I said, why don’t you let Zachary take you and the woman back to the clinic? I’ll wait for Lucien to regain full consciousness and bring him in. Then I’ll give all of you a good checkup.”

  “I don’t need a checkup. I’m fine,” Sebastian said, climbing to his feet.

  “I want to look at your eyes, Sebastian.”

  “Forget my eyes. There’s nothing you can do for them.”

  “You won’t know that for sure until I look at them.”

  Sebastian started to argue, but decided to maintain his peace. If Ryan wanted to waste his time looking at something he couldn’t fix, he’d let him look. For now, he’d get Sarah off the ground and into a bed. Maybe that simple comfort would encourage her to wake up so she could tell him what in hell the talisman was up to now.

  But an hour later, Sebastian sat on the edge of an examining table, furious that he couldn’t see so he could pace the room. Sarah slept soundly in the small bed in the corner, and he hadn’t heard her move since Zachary had placed her there. Lucien, who was in another examining room, had awakened and was physically okay, but he was so disoriented he didn’t even know his name. Zachary had just returned from the boundary to report that there was indeed a crack in the barrier, although it was so small you couldn’t see it unless you were looking for it.

  Sebastian wasn’t reassured by the report. He knew the barrier’s erosion would soon escalate, and the words twelve hours kept repeating themselves over and over in his head. He was sure the talisman was inserting that time frame into his mind to torment him. But was it telling him the truth about the barrier? If so, was it saying that they had twelve hours before the erosion accelerated, or twelve hours before it was complete? The only person who might know was Sarah.

  “Dammit, Sarah,” he muttered, turning his head in her direction. “Would you please wake up? I need your help.”

  When he didn’t hear so much as a soft snore in response, he cursed. He’d never felt so frustrated or so ineffectual. Time was running out, and he didn’t know what to do. Lucien couldn’t start repair work on the barrier until his mind cleared, and Sarah, who might be able to give him some answers, was doing a damn good imitation of Sleeping Beauty.

  “I can’t believe this day,” Sebastian heard Ryan announce harriedly as Ryan opened the door and walked into the room. “For weeks I’ve sat here without a single patient coming in the door, and today, when I need to be concentrating on you and Lucien, I get two minor emergencies. But they’re both taken care of and on their way home. I just checked on Lucien. He’s still disoriented. So why don’t you take off those glasses and let me look at your eyes?”

  Sebastian scowled and reached up to push the sunglasses more firmly onto his nose. Earlier, he’d decided to let Ryan look at his eyes, but now that the time had come, he didn’t want to go through with it. He was permanently blind, and he knew that Ryan couldn’t do a damn thing about it. But there was a part of him that whispered that as long as his condition wasn’t confirmed, there was a chance he’d see again.

  Stop being a fool, he mentally chastised himself.

  That didn’t stop him from saying, “There’s no need for you to look at my eyes. If you insist on doing something, check the burns on my hand and chest.”

  As he spoke, he held out the hand that had been burned on the moun­taintop and lifted the triangle with the other one to reveal the burn beneath the object.

  “Dammit, Sebastian!” Ryan declared irritably as he grabbed Sebastian’s hand. “Why didn’t you show me these wounds before? They’re infected. How did you get them? No, don’t tell me. Magical lightning, right?”

  “You’re starting to catch on, Ryan,” Sebastian drawled facetiously, sliding the triangle along the chain so that it fell behind his shoulder. He didn’t know if it would harm anyone if they touched it, but he wasn’t about to take a chance.

  Ryan released Sebastian’s hand and probed at his chest. “These are third-degree burns, and I’m going to have to debride them. But with burns this bad, the nerve endings are deadened, so you probably won’t feel much discomfort.”

  “I can handle anything you dish out,” Sebastian said, deciding that at this point he’d welcome physical discomfort to take his mind off every­thing else. “But before you get started on me, you should check Sarah. She had a burn on the back of one of her hands.”

  “When I examined her I didn’t see any burn on her hand.”

  “Then check her again. You overlooked it.”

  “I wouldn’t overlook something as obvious as a burn,” Ryan responded indignantly.

  “You overlooked mine,” Sebastian shot back.

  “I hadn’t examined you yet, but if it will satisfy you, I’ll check her hands again.”

  Before Sebastian could respond, he heard Ryan stalk away, and he cursed himself for being so combative. He knew he was taking his frustration out on Ryan, which wasn’t fair.

  “I was right,” Ryan stated, walking back toward him. “Her hands are fine. There isn’t even a mark to indicate she ever had a burn.”

  Sebastian frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. I saw the burn.” But even as he made the statement, he recalled that when he’d compared Sarah’s and his burns in the cave, hers had appeared to be healing while his were getting worse.

  “Well, it isn’t there now,” Ryan stated disgruntledly. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll ask Zachary to come in here and confirm it.”
r />   “Of course I believe you,” Sebastian said, apologetic. “But she was burned. Maybe the talisman somehow accelerated her healing process. Or maybe it’s an idiosyncrasy inherent to whatever she is. Remember, she isn’t a mortal.”

  “Well, for whatever reason, she’s okay, so I’d better get to work on you.”

  “I’m sorry for sounding as if I doubted you, Ryan.”

  “Forget it,” Ryan mumbled, and Sebastian listened to what sounded like the rattle of instruments. Then he heard what he guessed was a table roll toward him. A second later, Ryan lifted his hand and placed it on a cold metal surface.

  They were silent while Ryan bandaged his hand. When he turned his attention to Sebastian’s chest wound, he said, “With you blind and Lucien disoriented, we’re in serious trouble, aren’t we?”

  “Let’s just say that we’d be a hell of a lot better off if you could snap Lucien out of his fog,” Sebastian answered.

  “Sorry, but I’m a doctor, not a miracle worker. Isn’t there someone who can take over in Lucien’s stead? Surely the coven has some contin­gency to handle emergencies if the high priest is incapacitated.”

  “They do. The troubleshooter takes over,” Sebastian stated grimly. “Unfortunately, I’m also incapacitated. The only other way is to contact the council for permission to remove Lucien as high priest and temporarily grant his powers to someone else.”

  “So why haven’t you contacted the high council?”

  “I don’t think the talisman will let me get through. If it did, I might give it a link to them, and that would put them in danger. The only other people who can contact them directly are the narrators.

  “I sent Zachary to bring Oran Morovang here so I can ask him to contact them,” he went on. “But what’s happening would be considered a historical event. That means Oran can’t tell the council about the talisman, because he’d be interfering with history in the making. All he can do is request that the council send a new troubleshooter as soon as possible.”

  “Well, at least we’ll get some help,” Ryan said.

  “Yes, but it will be at least twenty-four hours before a new trouble­shooter can arrive, and I don’t think we have that much time,” Sebastian responded grimly.

  “Would waking the woman help you?”

  “Her name is Sarah, and I’d appreciate you calling her that,” Sebastian replied, not sure why Ryan’s calling her “the woman” irritated him. “And you said she’s probably fallen asleep because she’s facing some trauma she’s not ready to handle emotionally. You’re the doctor, and you have more expertise than I in this area. Do you think waking her would traumatize her further?”

  “It’s a risk,” Ryan admitted as he taped a bandage onto Sebastian’s chest. “However, if you think this situation is worth taking the chance, I can inject a stimulant that will wake her.”

  “Why would you need to give her a shot? Why can’t we just . . . shake her awake?”

  “She’s almost comatose, Sebastian. Unless she’s ready to wake up on her own, rousing her through traditional means will be almost impossible.”

  “Would this stimulant be dangerous to her?”

  “No drug is completely without risk,” Ryan allowed. “There’s always that one-in-a-million person who will have an adverse reaction. But she appears to be healthy, and I wouldn’t use a large dose. It shouldn’t cause her any ill effects.”

  “But Sarah isn’t mortal, and our magic is deadly to her,” Sebastian pointed out. “Knowing that, do you still feel comfortable giving her the shot?”

  “I’m talking about pharmacology, not magic, Sebastian, and I’d feel comfortable giving the stimulant to anyone in the coven, including Shana, and she’s pregnant. If it’s safe enough for a pregnant woman, it shouldn’t bother Sarah. Her physiology can’t be that much different from your race or mine, for that matter.”

  “But you don’t know that for sure,” Sebastian countered. Despite Ryan’s assurance that he’d give the stimulant to his own pregnant mate, Sebastian was still uncomfortable with the idea.

  “No, I don’t know that for sure. I’ll tell you what. You think about it, and while you’re doing that, I’ll look at your eyes,” Ryan said, reaching up and removing Sebastian’s sunglasses.

  Sebastian started to object, but Ryan caught his jaw and said, “Hold still and keep your eyes open.” Several seconds passed before Ryan let out a low whistle. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “Like what?” Sebastian asked with begrudging curiosity.

  “As I said earlier, your eyes are completely white. When I first saw them, I thought they were covered with some kind of growth—something like a cataract. But whatever this is, it isn’t organic.”

  Sebastian felt a spark of hope flare inside him. “You’re sure it’s not organic?”

  “Positive. It almost resembles a contact lens, but it’s definitely attached to the eye. Do you see anything at all? Even shadings of light and dark?”

  “No. Everything is pitch black.”

  “Well, you were right,” Ryan said, releasing Sebastian’s chin. “There’s nothing I can do for you.”

  “But you have helped me,” Sebastian stated, letting that spark of hope grow a little brighter. “If it isn’t organic, then it’s magical. That means it can be reversed. It’s just a matter of figuring out how to trick the talisman into doing it.”

  “Well, that’s your bailiwick. Have you made a decision on the woman?”

  “Her name is Sarah,” Sebastian reminded him with a frown.

  “Sorry. Sarah,” Ryan said.

  Sebastian nodded and then raked a hand through his hair, trying to decide what to do. With Lucien out of commission, he needed Sarah awake. She was the direct link to the talisman, and, hopefully, she could tell him how much time they had before the barrier disintegrated.

  But what if she had as bad a reaction to the shot as she’d had to his spell? An injection couldn’t be revoked. Then again, if the talisman thought the shot would hurt her, wouldn’t it cocoon her to protect her, just as it had at the boundary? Or was he giving it too much credit for knowing what was going on? It was, after all, only an object—an ancient object. Did it have any understanding of modern medicine?

  Damn! If he just knew exactly who and what Sarah was, he’d know if this was a good idea. But he didn’t know anything about her, and there wasn’t anyone who could tell him.

  Except that wasn’t true. There was someone with whom he could confer. The Indian spirit.

  “Ryan, take me over to Sarah, and then leave until I call for you,” he stated, standing. He knew that the spirit wouldn’t respond to him if there were an audience.

  “Sure,” Ryan said.

  When they reached Sarah, Sebastian released his hold on Ryan and sat on the edge of the bed. After Ryan left, Sebastian said, “Spirit, I know you’re here, because you said you’re always with Sarah. Would you speak with me?”

  “I would,” the spirit answered.

  “Thank you,” Sebastian said, noting the formal response. Realizing the spirit was setting the tone for the interview, Sebastian knew he needed to keep his questions and responses formal if he wanted cooperation.

  Keeping that in mind, he said, “I just realized that even though we’ve communicated several times, we haven’t exchanged names. I am Sebastian Moran. Do you have a name you wish to be called?”

  “Wanága.”

  “Well, Wanága, I have a problem. I need to speak with Sarah, but, as I’m sure you know, she’s asleep and won’t wake up. Can you tell me why she’s sleeping?”

  “Sarah sleeps because it is not yet time for you to know the future.”

  Sebastian frowned. “Don’t you mean it’s not time for her to know the future?”

  “Sarah knows, but she must forget.” />
  “I see,” Sebastian murmured as a courtesy, while he mulled over Wanága’s words. “So Sarah is asleep because she knows something about my future that I’m not supposed to know yet?”

  “Yes.”

  “What will happen to Sarah if I wake her?”

  “She will not remember.”

  “She will not remember my future, or she won’t remember anything, like what happened to her on the mountain?”

  “That is up to you.”

  The ambiguous response frustrated Sebastian, but he kept his voice even as he replied, “I’m sorry, Wanága, but I don’t understand what that means. Can you explain it in more detail?”

  “Why do you wish her to awaken?”

  “I told you that already. I need to speak with her.”

  “But why do you wish her to awaken?”

  Sebastian shook his head, confused. “Again, I’m sorry, Wanága, but I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “Look at Sarah and you will understand.”

  “But I can’t look at Sarah. I’m blind.”

  “It takes more than eyes to see, wicáhmunga.”

  “Yes, I suppose it does,” Sebastian stated, although he still didn’t know what the spirit was trying to tell him. He also knew that he wouldn’t get any better explanation, so belaboring the subject wouldn’t get him anywhere.

  Instead, he said, “If I ask my friend to give Sarah a shot of medicine to wake her, will the medicine hurt her like my magic does?”

  “It will not hurt her like your magic.”

  Sebastian frowned, disturbed by the answer. It took him a moment to realize it wasn’t the spirit’s words but his tone that bothered him. “Are you saying that the medicine won’t hurt her like my magic does, but it will hurt her in some way?”

  “Again, why do you wish her to awaken? Look at Sarah, wicáhmunga. When you see her, you will understand. Now I must go.”

  Sebastian opened his mouth to object, but he closed it when he could no longer sense the spirit’s presence.

  “Well, hell,” he grumbled. “I don’t know any more than I did when I started.”