James Axler – Demons of Eden

The process began that very hour, everyone focusing his or her thoughts on healing Krysty’s wound, envisioning her whole, alive and vibrant. It wasn’t easy for such tough, pragmatic minds accustomed to dealing with a harsh, uncompromising reality, to invoke their imaginations. But all of them did their best.

THE PROCESS TOOK a week, and the passage of days and nights ceased to have any meaning to the people within the Cavern of Creation. To Ryan the hours blurred into an endless montage of kneeling, concentrating, envisioning, hoping, dreaming. He barely ate or drank or shaved or bathed. It wasn’t important.

Sometimes, when he was kneeling and focusing, there seemed to be too much light above him. It would move and pulse and swim to the movement of his blood, match the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Other times the light seemed too dim, and he was angrily aware that his mind was drifting down other paths, floating into unwanted channels. The pain of his wrist impaired his concentration.

One day he was sure he heard a million little bells, chiming softly, the cheerful sound speaking of love and kindness.

On another occasion he saw Joe and John Hatcher striding out of the green light, entering his mind, moving side by side like a pair of lions. Ryan thought hard and swatted them away.

Once, he was sure he saw Dean, sitting at a desk, reading a book, moving his lips, forming the words. Dean glanced up, puzzled, and his lips shaped the question, “Dad?”

Then, on another day, Ryan realized his fingers were hurting, and he was able to flex them. It occurred to him that perhaps an overspill of the green energy, of the geofire, was healing his wound, but he didn’t want to remove the splint made of wood and rawhide to check on it. He didn’t need any more distractions.

Krysty stayed calm, quiet and dignified during the entire process. She drank and ate whenever she was offered food and water, and she didn’t touch the arrow in her chest.

When he wasn’t kneeling and concentrating, Ryan stayed by her side. She rarely spoke, though she wrinkled her nose at his odor. Once, with great effort, she whispered, “A long life. None of it wasted, lover.”

Ryan didn’t reply. He didn’t have one. He thought of all the wandering, all the chilling, all the traveling, and it all seemed like a waste.

She managed to smile. “Not the chilling, not the bloodletting. You and me, together. A long life. Not wasted.”

“Yes,” he forced himself to say. “Shining times.”

Then, one dayand he had no idea if it was day or night, morning or afternoonSisoka pulled him away from the well rim and led him over to where Mildred knelt beside Krysty. Her face was startlingly pale, surrounded by her thick cloud of red hair, but her eyes were bright, more brilliant than the green geofire.

“Now,” Sisoka said quietly. “Now we will learn if our intentions were pure.”

Swiftly, unhesitatingly, ignoring Mildred’s word of warning, Sisoka seized the feathered shaft and yanked it from beneath Krysty’s breast. It came free as easily and as smoothly as if it had been lodged in cotton wadding.

Black fluid bubbled from the puncture wound, then came a flow of bright red blood. Mildred, her eyes dull with fatigue but registering astonishment, plugged the puncture with a mixture of buffalo tallow and yarrow. No blood seeped around the edges of the wound.

Sisoka touched Krysty’s face three times in a ritualistic fashion. “You are well now.”

And she was.

Chapter Thirty-Four

It was the third morning after they had left the cavern, and they were guests in the forest city. All of them had been given separate rooms. Ryan in particular was far too grateful for a place to bathe and rest to think about their next course of action.

He rose from the bunk he shared with Krysty and stretched. Pain flared along his right forearm, and he groaned. He parted the bandages and touched the discolored, scabbed-over flesh, wondering again how he had regained the use of the hand so quickly. The image of the green glow flitted through his mind and answered his question. Even Jak’s wound was almost completely healed.