Sweet Legacy
Page 35
Releasing my grip on Sthenno and Greer, I say, “I might have forgotten to mention that—”
Ursula collapses to the ground.
“Ursula!”
“We must get her to the healer,” Sthenno says. “Who has a vehicle?”
“I do,” I say. “But not here.”
My car is halfway across town, parked in front of Greer’s house.
“Where is the healer?” Thane asks. “Greer needs help, too.”
Sthenno looks at Greer, frowning with concern. “I am afraid,” she says, “that a healer cannot help her.”
The muscles in Thane’s jaw clench. If I didn’t know Sthenno was the gorgon with super strength—like me—I’d be worried for her health. Thane looks like he wants to destroy something, or someone.
I know the feeling.
“I’ll go get my car.” I glance at our two unconscious companions. “It will take me a while. Maybe twenty minutes.”
“There is no time,” Sthenno says. “Can you carry your sister?”
“Of course,” I reply without hesitation. Sillus climbs off my back.
Sthenno smiles like a proud teacher. “And I can carry mine. We can be at the healer’s in a matter of minutes.”
I reach for Greer, but Thane holds her out of range. “I have her.”
Our eyes meet, and for a moment, I feel like we’re going to have a stare-down. Then his look softens, and his brows dip just a little, turning his expression into a plea. I don’t have to be a social genius to know what that means.
“Fine,” I say, pulling the monkey back onto my shoulders so he won’t slow us down. “Let’s get moving. Sthenno, you can lead the way.”
The healer is in a tiny storefront in Russian Hill, a short uphill trek from the loft. Unlike the oracle’s abandoned-looking shop, this place is all lights and neon. Only a plastic “closed” sign on the door gives a go-away message.
Sthenno knocks on the door.
The painted notices in the window invite customers to get acupuncture, acupressure, massage, facials, and aura readings inside. A glowing neon sign advertises aromatherapy. There is a special discount—free aura reading with the purchase of six acupressure sessions.
“Who is this quack?” I ask. “How can they help us?”
Sthenno looks evenly at me. “This quack,” she intones, “is a child of Panacea, a goddess of healing.”
My cheeks burn, and I try to disguise my embarrassment with cooperation. “Oh, that’s good, then.”
When the door swings open, I want to take back my words.
“Sorry,” the short, wiry man says, “we’re—”
When he sees Sthenno, his jaw drops.
“Gorgon,” he says, inclining his head, “you are most welcome.”
He steps back and waves us inside. Sthenno goes in first, carrying Ursula in her arms as if my mentor weighs nothing. I wave Thane in before me, and Sillus and I bring up the rear.
The healer takes one look at the two unconscious bodies and says, “Come this way.”
We follow him through the space, into a large room in the back with twin massage tables set up in the center. It smells like herbs and essential oils, and the air is filled with music that sounds like the soundtrack to some tragic movie where everyone dies.
“Lay them down,” he says, walking over to a stereo sitting on the counter and punching off the music. “What happened?”
“Euryale is but weakened,” Sthenno exclaims. “She autoported us from Olympus while her energy stores were still quite low.”
The healer pumps liquid sanitizer onto his hands and then walks over to Ursula. He runs his hands around her, not touching her—his palms hover just above the surface of her body. When he gets to her wrists, he swirls his hands in small circles. She groans and tries to sit up.
“Hold still, gorgon,” he says to her in the gentle voice of a therapist or kindergarten teacher.
He crosses to the cabinet, pulls open one of the bottom drawers, and takes out a small brown vial with a black top. Unscrewing the cap, he squeezes the bulb, drawing up a dropper full of orange liquid. Returning to Ursula’s wrists, he squeezes one drop on first her left and then her right. He replaces the cap and then proceeds to rhythmically rub the stuff into her wrists.
“This nectar of Iaso will restore her,” he says. “She will need to rest for a few hours. When she wakes, she will be healed.”
“Thank you, friend,” Sthenno says. She sounds relieved.
“What about Greer?” Thane asks.
Sthenno studies him. Maybe she sees the same thing I saw in his eyes when he told me he could carry my sister here. He cares about Greer. They may not have known each other for long, but he has feelings for her.
Sometimes it doesn’t take much time. I haven’t known Nick for long, but I still dived into the abyss to save him.
Sthenno turns to the healer. “These are my . . .” She glances at me, like she’s trying to figure out how to define our relationship. “Nieces.”
There are too many “greats” in there to keep track of, so I suppose “niece” is simpler.
“Your nie—” The healer’s eyes widen. “Oh, wonder of wonders. They are of the Key Generation?”
Sthenno only stares at him.
The healer turns his attention to me. “Are you?” When I nod, his old face cracks into the widest grin. “Such miraculous news. The rumors are true.”
Ursula collapses to the ground.
“Ursula!”
“We must get her to the healer,” Sthenno says. “Who has a vehicle?”
“I do,” I say. “But not here.”
My car is halfway across town, parked in front of Greer’s house.
“Where is the healer?” Thane asks. “Greer needs help, too.”
Sthenno looks at Greer, frowning with concern. “I am afraid,” she says, “that a healer cannot help her.”
The muscles in Thane’s jaw clench. If I didn’t know Sthenno was the gorgon with super strength—like me—I’d be worried for her health. Thane looks like he wants to destroy something, or someone.
I know the feeling.
“I’ll go get my car.” I glance at our two unconscious companions. “It will take me a while. Maybe twenty minutes.”
“There is no time,” Sthenno says. “Can you carry your sister?”
“Of course,” I reply without hesitation. Sillus climbs off my back.
Sthenno smiles like a proud teacher. “And I can carry mine. We can be at the healer’s in a matter of minutes.”
I reach for Greer, but Thane holds her out of range. “I have her.”
Our eyes meet, and for a moment, I feel like we’re going to have a stare-down. Then his look softens, and his brows dip just a little, turning his expression into a plea. I don’t have to be a social genius to know what that means.
“Fine,” I say, pulling the monkey back onto my shoulders so he won’t slow us down. “Let’s get moving. Sthenno, you can lead the way.”
The healer is in a tiny storefront in Russian Hill, a short uphill trek from the loft. Unlike the oracle’s abandoned-looking shop, this place is all lights and neon. Only a plastic “closed” sign on the door gives a go-away message.
Sthenno knocks on the door.
The painted notices in the window invite customers to get acupuncture, acupressure, massage, facials, and aura readings inside. A glowing neon sign advertises aromatherapy. There is a special discount—free aura reading with the purchase of six acupressure sessions.
“Who is this quack?” I ask. “How can they help us?”
Sthenno looks evenly at me. “This quack,” she intones, “is a child of Panacea, a goddess of healing.”
My cheeks burn, and I try to disguise my embarrassment with cooperation. “Oh, that’s good, then.”
When the door swings open, I want to take back my words.
“Sorry,” the short, wiry man says, “we’re—”
When he sees Sthenno, his jaw drops.
“Gorgon,” he says, inclining his head, “you are most welcome.”
He steps back and waves us inside. Sthenno goes in first, carrying Ursula in her arms as if my mentor weighs nothing. I wave Thane in before me, and Sillus and I bring up the rear.
The healer takes one look at the two unconscious bodies and says, “Come this way.”
We follow him through the space, into a large room in the back with twin massage tables set up in the center. It smells like herbs and essential oils, and the air is filled with music that sounds like the soundtrack to some tragic movie where everyone dies.
“Lay them down,” he says, walking over to a stereo sitting on the counter and punching off the music. “What happened?”
“Euryale is but weakened,” Sthenno exclaims. “She autoported us from Olympus while her energy stores were still quite low.”
The healer pumps liquid sanitizer onto his hands and then walks over to Ursula. He runs his hands around her, not touching her—his palms hover just above the surface of her body. When he gets to her wrists, he swirls his hands in small circles. She groans and tries to sit up.
“Hold still, gorgon,” he says to her in the gentle voice of a therapist or kindergarten teacher.
He crosses to the cabinet, pulls open one of the bottom drawers, and takes out a small brown vial with a black top. Unscrewing the cap, he squeezes the bulb, drawing up a dropper full of orange liquid. Returning to Ursula’s wrists, he squeezes one drop on first her left and then her right. He replaces the cap and then proceeds to rhythmically rub the stuff into her wrists.
“This nectar of Iaso will restore her,” he says. “She will need to rest for a few hours. When she wakes, she will be healed.”
“Thank you, friend,” Sthenno says. She sounds relieved.
“What about Greer?” Thane asks.
Sthenno studies him. Maybe she sees the same thing I saw in his eyes when he told me he could carry my sister here. He cares about Greer. They may not have known each other for long, but he has feelings for her.
Sometimes it doesn’t take much time. I haven’t known Nick for long, but I still dived into the abyss to save him.
Sthenno turns to the healer. “These are my . . .” She glances at me, like she’s trying to figure out how to define our relationship. “Nieces.”
There are too many “greats” in there to keep track of, so I suppose “niece” is simpler.
“Your nie—” The healer’s eyes widen. “Oh, wonder of wonders. They are of the Key Generation?”
Sthenno only stares at him.
The healer turns his attention to me. “Are you?” When I nod, his old face cracks into the widest grin. “Such miraculous news. The rumors are true.”
