Mirror Sight
Page 162
• • •
When they reached Jax’s house, they found Mirriam putting on water for tea, and Karigan curled up on the bed asleep, but this time attired in her Tam Ryder outfit, which had been retrieved from Professor Josston’s stable by Luke.
“So we are putting our faith in this one who always sleeps?” Jax said, and not for the first time. “Some heroic legend she is.”
“Not her fault,” Cade replied.
“No, it is not,” Mirriam agreed. “If what you told me about the syringe is correct, the morphia should have laid her out cold for a solid three days, but perhaps she didn’t get as much as you thought, or it lost some of its efficacy over time. Miraculously, I got her to stay awake and coherent long enough to tell her what’s happened and help her change clothes, but I’m afraid the news about the professor took it right out of her again.”
“Are you still planning to leave this afternoon?” Jax asked Cade. “With your sleepy girl, there?”
Cade nodded. “Just as soon as Luke arrives.”
Jax shook his head and shuffled to the little kitchen area, reaching for a jar of tea on a shelf. “So, it’s all going to happen. At least our end of it.”
For better or worse, Cade thought. For better or worse.
MILL CITY FAREWELL
Karigan wished people would leave her be and stop patting her face and shaking her. She flung her hand out blindly, hit someone, and was rewarded with an, “Ow!”
She cracked her eyes open, and there was Cade, all three of him, standing over her and rubbing his face. Damnation. She was back to seeing three of everything. “Sorry,” she mumbled, and started to drift off again.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Cade said.
He shook her again and made her sit up. She simply melted back into the mattress.
“Karigan.”
His sharp voice jabbed at her. He cradled her face in his hands and forced her to look up at him. Hims. “Do you remember what Mirriam told you today?”
Somewhere over Cade’s shoulder she perceived the housekeeper standing nearby. Yes. She had spoken with Mirriam—strange stories of tunnels and fire and the river. “I think it was a dream,” she murmured.
“No,” Cade said. “It was not.”
“None of it?” There had been something very sad Mirriam had told her. Karigan hated how sluggish her brain had become. Must wake up. But she was stuck in this perpetual fog.
“None of it,” Cade replied firmly.
The professor had died, she remembered, and she let out a little cry. “He’s gone, isn’t he.”
“Yes,” Cade replied. “And now we must leave.”
“Leave?”
“We are going to the Capital so you may rescue the Eletian, and I, Arhys.”
“Lhean.”
“Yes. We must get you to the wagon. We will help you.”
Karigan nodded, which made the room jerk up and down in nauseating waves. She swallowed down the sickness rising in her throat, closed her eyes, and wiped her clammy forehead. “My things?” she asked.
“Your satchel is in a secret compartment in the wagon, along with the bonewood.”
“Brooch?”
Cade opened the front of her jacket and guided her hand to where the brooch was pinned on her shirt.
“Your moon crystal is in your pocket.”
Touching the brooch centered her. “Good.”
Cade helped her rise, and Mirriam supported her on her other side. Jax was there, too, and he frowned at her with a sour expression, made even more sour by seeing him in triplicate. There was another man in the little house with them. He was dressed in a good suit with one of those brimmed bowl hats cocked on his head. A pair of gold specs shone on his face. She gawped at him.
“I don’t think she knows me,” the man said in a cultured voice she thought she recognized. Different, but . . .
“Luke?” she asked quietly.
He laughed. “Yes, but just as you are to be Tam Ryder, I am now Stanton Mayforte, maker of fine wine. You and Cade are my servants.”
It was not easy to make all that work in her muddled mind. “Wine? Making . . . ?”
“As you regain your senses, we shall explain.”
They helped her outside, and there was Widow Hettle’s mules and wagon, with Raven tied to the back. He whickered in greeting. The wagon was laden with casks. A space just large enough to fit Karigan was left empty in the very back. Before climbing in, she threw herself at Mirriam for an unwieldy hug.
Mirriam returned it awkwardly. “Really, Miss Goodgrave. This demonstration of affection for a mere housekeeper is a little unseemly.”
Karigan just squeezed harder. When she staggered back, there were beautiful prismatic droplets glistening on Mirriam’s cheeks. Thinking the tears could only be her imagination, Karigan shook her head and instantly regretted the motion, grabbing the tailgate of the wagon before she fell over. Cade placed his hands on her hips and started to lift her.
“Don’t carry me! I will not be carried.” She struggled wildly.
“I’m just putting you in the wagon,” Cade said between gritted teeth.
Before she could protest further, she was in a nest of straw and a blanket was drawn over her, up to her chin.
“I suggest you let her sleep it off as much as is possible,” she heard Mirriam say. “That is the only cure. And you should know there will be other ill effects, too, as she comes out of it.”
When they reached Jax’s house, they found Mirriam putting on water for tea, and Karigan curled up on the bed asleep, but this time attired in her Tam Ryder outfit, which had been retrieved from Professor Josston’s stable by Luke.
“So we are putting our faith in this one who always sleeps?” Jax said, and not for the first time. “Some heroic legend she is.”
“Not her fault,” Cade replied.
“No, it is not,” Mirriam agreed. “If what you told me about the syringe is correct, the morphia should have laid her out cold for a solid three days, but perhaps she didn’t get as much as you thought, or it lost some of its efficacy over time. Miraculously, I got her to stay awake and coherent long enough to tell her what’s happened and help her change clothes, but I’m afraid the news about the professor took it right out of her again.”
“Are you still planning to leave this afternoon?” Jax asked Cade. “With your sleepy girl, there?”
Cade nodded. “Just as soon as Luke arrives.”
Jax shook his head and shuffled to the little kitchen area, reaching for a jar of tea on a shelf. “So, it’s all going to happen. At least our end of it.”
For better or worse, Cade thought. For better or worse.
MILL CITY FAREWELL
Karigan wished people would leave her be and stop patting her face and shaking her. She flung her hand out blindly, hit someone, and was rewarded with an, “Ow!”
She cracked her eyes open, and there was Cade, all three of him, standing over her and rubbing his face. Damnation. She was back to seeing three of everything. “Sorry,” she mumbled, and started to drift off again.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Cade said.
He shook her again and made her sit up. She simply melted back into the mattress.
“Karigan.”
His sharp voice jabbed at her. He cradled her face in his hands and forced her to look up at him. Hims. “Do you remember what Mirriam told you today?”
Somewhere over Cade’s shoulder she perceived the housekeeper standing nearby. Yes. She had spoken with Mirriam—strange stories of tunnels and fire and the river. “I think it was a dream,” she murmured.
“No,” Cade said. “It was not.”
“None of it?” There had been something very sad Mirriam had told her. Karigan hated how sluggish her brain had become. Must wake up. But she was stuck in this perpetual fog.
“None of it,” Cade replied firmly.
The professor had died, she remembered, and she let out a little cry. “He’s gone, isn’t he.”
“Yes,” Cade replied. “And now we must leave.”
“Leave?”
“We are going to the Capital so you may rescue the Eletian, and I, Arhys.”
“Lhean.”
“Yes. We must get you to the wagon. We will help you.”
Karigan nodded, which made the room jerk up and down in nauseating waves. She swallowed down the sickness rising in her throat, closed her eyes, and wiped her clammy forehead. “My things?” she asked.
“Your satchel is in a secret compartment in the wagon, along with the bonewood.”
“Brooch?”
Cade opened the front of her jacket and guided her hand to where the brooch was pinned on her shirt.
“Your moon crystal is in your pocket.”
Touching the brooch centered her. “Good.”
Cade helped her rise, and Mirriam supported her on her other side. Jax was there, too, and he frowned at her with a sour expression, made even more sour by seeing him in triplicate. There was another man in the little house with them. He was dressed in a good suit with one of those brimmed bowl hats cocked on his head. A pair of gold specs shone on his face. She gawped at him.
“I don’t think she knows me,” the man said in a cultured voice she thought she recognized. Different, but . . .
“Luke?” she asked quietly.
He laughed. “Yes, but just as you are to be Tam Ryder, I am now Stanton Mayforte, maker of fine wine. You and Cade are my servants.”
It was not easy to make all that work in her muddled mind. “Wine? Making . . . ?”
“As you regain your senses, we shall explain.”
They helped her outside, and there was Widow Hettle’s mules and wagon, with Raven tied to the back. He whickered in greeting. The wagon was laden with casks. A space just large enough to fit Karigan was left empty in the very back. Before climbing in, she threw herself at Mirriam for an unwieldy hug.
Mirriam returned it awkwardly. “Really, Miss Goodgrave. This demonstration of affection for a mere housekeeper is a little unseemly.”
Karigan just squeezed harder. When she staggered back, there were beautiful prismatic droplets glistening on Mirriam’s cheeks. Thinking the tears could only be her imagination, Karigan shook her head and instantly regretted the motion, grabbing the tailgate of the wagon before she fell over. Cade placed his hands on her hips and started to lift her.
“Don’t carry me! I will not be carried.” She struggled wildly.
“I’m just putting you in the wagon,” Cade said between gritted teeth.
Before she could protest further, she was in a nest of straw and a blanket was drawn over her, up to her chin.
“I suggest you let her sleep it off as much as is possible,” she heard Mirriam say. “That is the only cure. And you should know there will be other ill effects, too, as she comes out of it.”
