The Veil
Page 88
Lizzie definitely wasn’t human. A fire spirit of some sort, by my guess.
She spared me a glance, looked at Liam. “I hope you tranq’d her this time.”
“Yeah. And it’s wearing off.”
She nodded, put two fingers in her mouth, and whistled shrilly. There were footsteps, and two men in scrubs appeared in the doorway. “Get her jacketed first, then get her into a room.”
The first orderly came over, his eyes the same burning embers, and let Liam transfer the girl into his arms. They trotted out of the room, down the hallway.
Lizzie pushed a hand through her hair, the fire on her hand shifting as she moved. Like fire itself, it was a little scary, a little awesome. “Haven’t seen you this week.”
“Long story,” Liam said, then gestured at me. “Lizzie, this is Claire Connolly. Claire, Lizzie.”
“Hi, Claire.” Lizzie looked me over, the fire in her eyes sparking when she reached my face again. I didn’t know how she’d done it, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she knew what I was.
“Well,” she said, smiling, “that’s an interesting development.”
“I’m being careful,” Liam said.
“I certainly hope so. And that she is, too.”
“She is,” I said, meeting her gaze. I was in the mood for answers. “What happens to the wraiths when they’re brought in?”
“They’re cared for as best we can. We try to keep them calm, keep them fed, keep them clean. Until someone comes up with a cure, that’s all we can do.”
“And Sensitives?”
She gestured to a couple of stingy chairs in the waiting area, and perched on the edge of the desk.
“Sensitives are in a separate ward,” she said. “Same protocol—calm, comfortable, cared for. But any magical practice—even the regulation of magic—is forbidden here.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I whispered through gritted teeth. “It would keep them from becoming wraiths.”
“But it’s the Containment way.” The flame in her eyes shifted, simmered. “The best bet is to not end up here in the first place.”
“Understood,” I said, and she nodded efficiently.
“Anything new?” Liam asked quietly.
Lizzie frowned, picked at a stain on her pants, brushed it aside when she realized it wasn’t coming out. “Two girls last night.”
I guessed she meant wraiths, and it made me feel a little better that she still thought of them as something other than “it.”
“Any signs of critical thinking?”
“Not that I’m aware of, but I didn’t see them before they were sedated. The girl tonight?”
“Maybe. She didn’t attack when she first saw us. Ran instead. And we think she was trying to talk. Kept saying ‘contact’ over and over again.”
Lizzie’s eyebrows lifted. “What does that mean?”
“I was hoping you’d know. That have any connection to the Beyond?”
She frowned, crossed her arms. “Not that I know of. Maybe she wants you to contact someone?”
“Maybe. If so—if it’s a word, and not just a random sound—that’s big. That’s the first time a wraith has done that.” He glanced at me. “We should go back to the house tomorrow, take a look. Maybe we can find something.”
I nodded. “Fine by me.”
Lizzie fished something silver from her pocket. It was a stick of gum in its foil wrapper. “Splitsies?” she asked, offering it to us.
Liam declined with a raised hand, and she held it out to me.
She spared me a glance, looked at Liam. “I hope you tranq’d her this time.”
“Yeah. And it’s wearing off.”
She nodded, put two fingers in her mouth, and whistled shrilly. There were footsteps, and two men in scrubs appeared in the doorway. “Get her jacketed first, then get her into a room.”
The first orderly came over, his eyes the same burning embers, and let Liam transfer the girl into his arms. They trotted out of the room, down the hallway.
Lizzie pushed a hand through her hair, the fire on her hand shifting as she moved. Like fire itself, it was a little scary, a little awesome. “Haven’t seen you this week.”
“Long story,” Liam said, then gestured at me. “Lizzie, this is Claire Connolly. Claire, Lizzie.”
“Hi, Claire.” Lizzie looked me over, the fire in her eyes sparking when she reached my face again. I didn’t know how she’d done it, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she knew what I was.
“Well,” she said, smiling, “that’s an interesting development.”
“I’m being careful,” Liam said.
“I certainly hope so. And that she is, too.”
“She is,” I said, meeting her gaze. I was in the mood for answers. “What happens to the wraiths when they’re brought in?”
“They’re cared for as best we can. We try to keep them calm, keep them fed, keep them clean. Until someone comes up with a cure, that’s all we can do.”
“And Sensitives?”
She gestured to a couple of stingy chairs in the waiting area, and perched on the edge of the desk.
“Sensitives are in a separate ward,” she said. “Same protocol—calm, comfortable, cared for. But any magical practice—even the regulation of magic—is forbidden here.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I whispered through gritted teeth. “It would keep them from becoming wraiths.”
“But it’s the Containment way.” The flame in her eyes shifted, simmered. “The best bet is to not end up here in the first place.”
“Understood,” I said, and she nodded efficiently.
“Anything new?” Liam asked quietly.
Lizzie frowned, picked at a stain on her pants, brushed it aside when she realized it wasn’t coming out. “Two girls last night.”
I guessed she meant wraiths, and it made me feel a little better that she still thought of them as something other than “it.”
“Any signs of critical thinking?”
“Not that I’m aware of, but I didn’t see them before they were sedated. The girl tonight?”
“Maybe. She didn’t attack when she first saw us. Ran instead. And we think she was trying to talk. Kept saying ‘contact’ over and over again.”
Lizzie’s eyebrows lifted. “What does that mean?”
“I was hoping you’d know. That have any connection to the Beyond?”
She frowned, crossed her arms. “Not that I know of. Maybe she wants you to contact someone?”
“Maybe. If so—if it’s a word, and not just a random sound—that’s big. That’s the first time a wraith has done that.” He glanced at me. “We should go back to the house tomorrow, take a look. Maybe we can find something.”
I nodded. “Fine by me.”
Lizzie fished something silver from her pocket. It was a stick of gum in its foil wrapper. “Splitsies?” she asked, offering it to us.
Liam declined with a raised hand, and she held it out to me.
