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Authors: Stina Leicht

And Blue Skies From Pain (13 page)

BOOK: And Blue Skies From Pain
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“Provided we can trust his claims,” Father Conroy said. “Or trust that he’d tell us the truth, if he does hold such abilities.”
“We should recruit him,” Father Thomas said.
“Unlike the Dominicans, there are no lay people among our numbers and never have been,” said Monsignor Paul. “He would have to be ordained to be considered.”
“Have you spoken to him?” Father Conroy asked. “I’ve never seen a less likely candidate in my life.”
Gerry is not far wrong there,
Father Murray thought, but he couldn’t stop himself from pushing the issue a bit. “Oh, I’m sure I can think of a few worse.”
“Regardless, we have yet to determine whether he’s human or not,” said Father Conroy, giving him a reproachful look.
Father Thomas said, “And why should that matter, if it’s his help we’re asking for?”
“I’d say it rather does,” said Father Conroy. “Do non-humans have souls? If so, can a non-human receive the sacraments, let alone dispense them?”
Bishop Avery held up a hand. “We’ll debate the issue later. We have more urgent concerns. This facility may be contaminated. Declan, call security. Tell them to prolong the lockdown until otherwise notified.”
Father Thomas nodded and went to the phone.
Monsignor Paul turned to Father Conroy. “Have you finished the report I asked for?”
“Yes, Monsignor Paul,” Father Conroy said.
“And do you believe Father Murray to be free from demonic taint at this time?” Monsignor Paul asked.
Father Murray returned Father Conroy’s judging look. He did his best not to take it personally. They were all exhausted for one reason or another, and it was a valid question, given the circumstances.
“I believe so,” Father Conroy said. “But I have reservations.”
“Reservations?” Father Murray asked.
Father Conroy frowned. “You have a bias—”
“I’d rather hope so,” Father Murray said. “In any case, why should it matter if I’ve retired?”
Father Conroy opened his mouth to answer but stopped when Bishop Avery held up a hand. “That’s enough.” He turned away and stepped to the examination table. “Have you reached any conclusions regarding the subject?”
“The results are… inconclusive,” Father Conroy said. “He passed the holy water test previous to entering the facility.”
“What test?” Father Murray asked.
Father Conroy looked away.
Father Thomas asked, “Do you remember the glass of water we served him before the search?”
“You didn’t—” Father Murray said. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
An embarrassed expression passed over Father Thomas’s chubby features. “We considered it. But it was thought that you’d object on the grounds that it would risk your charge dying in a flash of brimstone.”
“Not at all,” Father Murray said. “If you’d asked me, I could have told you he’s taken Holy Communion every Sunday since he was a child. With the exception of the years he served in prison, of course. I administered it myself from the time he was but a lad of thirteen. That is, until a little over two years ago. You would’ve known that if you’d bothered to read the entire report.”
“And why did you stop?” Monsignor Paul asked.
“It was the death of his wife,” Father Murray said, withholding information he felt was too personal. “The murder was never solved. It was hard on him.”
“He blamed God?” Father Conroy asked.
“It’s a common enough—a
human
enough response. Is it not?” Father Murray asked. “You’d know that if you’d lost a loved one yourself.”
The room grew silent. Monsignor Paul’s disapproval was clear, and Bishop Avery gave him a reproachful look.
“I apologise, Gerry,” Father Murray said. “I’ve not had much sleep over the past week.”
Father Conroy’s jaw was tight, but he nodded an acceptance, nonetheless.
“You’ve had two days,” Bishop Avery said to Father Conroy. “We’ve only the five remaining.”
Father Conroy said, “I was about to take a live sample but—”
“Your Grace,” Father Murray interrupted. “We can’t continue to hold Liam in good faith.”
“If issue was due to the security team being tainted, how is there a problem?” Monsignor Paul asked. “The issue is being corrected in a prompt manner.”
Father Murray bit back a second remark that could easily land him in circumstances he’d later regret—regardless of the fact that Monsignor Paul no longer had any direct power over him.
Not as a member of the Order anyway.
“Liam was attacked while in our custody. We promised his father that he would be safe. The man isn’t going to be happy when he finds out what happened.”
“All the more reason for damage control,” Monsignor Paul said.
“Damage control?” Father Murray asked. “We must tell the Fey, and extend our sincere apologies. And we must do it now.”
“We should get all the information we can. Once the truce is called off, it isn’t likely that there’ll be another chance,” Father Conroy said.
“I can’t agree to a continuation of testing. Not without a guarantee of Liam’s safety,” Father Murray said. “I’m responsible. His father will come to me.”
“You owe allegiance to the Mother Church,” Father Conroy said. “Not some demon—”
“Enough!” Bishop Avery sighed. “There’s no covering up this mess, Monsignor Paul. The lad will talk the moment he wakes. And who could blame him? We’ve given him no reason to trust us. When he sees his father, the Fey will know, and that will be the end of it.”
Monsignor Paul said, “Give me some time. A few days—”
“You heard. We can’t,” Bishop Avery said.
“Perhaps if we drugged him—” Father Conroy said.
“No!”
“Joseph, please,” Father Thomas said. “Calm down. Maybe you could talk to him when he wakes. Explain that it wasn’t our fault?”
Father Murray shook his head. “We are responsible.”
“Nonetheless, the guards were contaminated. We can’t be blamed for the actions of the Fallen,” Father Thomas said. “Can we? Surely, the Fey will see that.”
Father Conroy said, “We were in as much danger as he was—perhaps more.”
“More?” Father Murray asked. “No one else in this room sustained injuries. Explain again how we were in more danger?”
Father Conroy said, “If he isn’t human, then he doesn’t have a soul. And therefore—”
“Again, enough!” Bishop Avery sighed. “There is no point in continuing with speculation. We must wait until we have facts.”
“I will not authorize further testing. I can’t, Your Grace,” Father Murray said, folding his arms across his chest. “Not when what Gerry is proposing amounts to vivisecting a living being.”
Bishop Avery held up a hand, effectively silencing a fresh explosion of arguments and protests. “Gerry, Declan, Monsignor Paul, would you give me a moment alone with Joseph?”
Father Conroy nodded and went to the door. Monsignor Paul and Father Thomas paused.
“Are you sure this is wise, Your Grace?” Father Thomas glanced at Liam’s unconscious form.
“He’s been drugged,” Bishop Avery said. “And is likely to remain that way for hours, is he not?”
Father Conroy shrugged. “Given the dosage, the subject should be unconscious for at least an hour. I took the precaution of administering a non-human dose.”
“What? That might kill him!” Father Murray said.
“I rather doubt it,” Father Conroy said. “Given what we know, it’s safe to assume he metabolizes medications at a faster rate. And in any case, I’ve gathered enough data to determine that the subject isn’t entirely human. Even you admit that is so.”
“Nonetheless,” Bishop Avery said, loud enough to drown out further protests. “I will be safe for a few minutes. You’ll not be far.”
“But, Your Grace—”
“Don’t insult me by insisting, Declan,” Bishop Avery said.
Father Thomas’s shoulders dropped. “Yes, Your Grace.” He slipped out last, behind Monsignor Paul, but paused to give a meaningful glance that seemed to say,
I’m leaving under protest. The Bishop’s life is in your hands now.
Father Murray nodded in answer. Waiting until the door clicked shut, he released the breath he was holding, but he knew the battle was far from over.
“Gerry took a hell of a chance with the dosage. Was that an act of good faith, do you think? And why is Monsignor Paul here?” he asked. “Who called him in? Was it you?”
“Frankly, I thought we had enough problems. No, Monsignor Paul heard about the situation from Cardinal Wilkinson, and travelled here on his own. There’s been a recent development you should be aware of, Joseph,” Bishop Avery said.
“Go on,” Father Murray said.
“The Prelate has agreed to send his Secretary to observe the situation for himself,” Bishop Avery said. “He’s taking your hypothesis under serious consideration. I’ve been granted the authority to extend the truce should your theory prove sound.”
Father Murray blinked. “This is what I’ve been praying for.”
“Yes, I know,” Bishop Avery said. “If the Prelate’s Secretary is sufficiently convinced then I’m to meet with His Holiness, himself. Joseph, much hinges on how this is handled.”
Nodding, Father Murray felt conflicted. “But we can’t guarantee Liam’s safety.”
“There is a danger, I admit. But it existed from the start. You both knew that before you came here.”
Father Murray looked down at Liam. The lad twitched in his sleep, and Father Murray wondered what demons walked in Liam’s dreams. Whatever it was seemed to be more than a lengthy prison stay could account for. However, he couldn’t help if Liam refused to talk.
What would he say to this? Would he take another chance? Or would he withdraw?
Father Murray sighed. “I can’t make this decision for him, Your Grace. No matter what Gerry says, Liam is human. And as such, he has the right to choose. I won’t take that away from him—no matter how important I might think the reason.”
“All right,” Bishop Avery said. “When he wakes, ask him if he wishes to proceed. Until then, I won’t approve any further testing.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
“But you must decide whether or not to stay in the meantime.”
Father Murray took a deep breath. There was a possibility that this would be his only chance of getting Liam out of the Belfast facility alive. On the other hand, there was the possibility that the truce could be extended, that the Pope might agree to acknowledge the Fey. It’d only been five years since alterations in Church doctrine had been made that most felt were impossible. Did he dare accept this risk for Liam, if even for a few hours?
It’s everything I’ve prayed for. If we leave now it’s all over. Bran was willing to take the risk. The Fey understand what’s at stake. All those lives.
“We’ll stay.”
“Very good, Joseph,” Bishop Avery said. “Thank you.”
“On two conditions.”
“They are?”
“That Liam be treated as a human being until absolutely proven otherwise.”
“What exactly do you mean?”
“No more threats. No more beatings. He should be addressed by his name, with respect due any other person, and if medical care is required there should be no delays.” Father Murray watched as his words sunk in.
“Why should there be a delay?”
“Before you arrived, Gerry wanted to record the length of time required for Liam to heal without medical assistance. Then he administered a potentially lethal dose of a narcotic without my knowledge,” Father Murray said. “What are we running? A torture chamber?”
“I was unaware that he’d withheld medical assistance.”
“His behaviour today has been reprehensible. Let alone irresponsible. You heard him. He claims he isn’t certain what Liam is. This is what uncertainty looks like? Which brings me to the second condition.”
“Yes?”
“I want Gerry replaced. He’s dangerously biased. And I can’t trust him to not poison the lad before my very eyes.”
Bishop Avery’s eyes narrowed and the lines around his frown pulled deeper. “We’ve only five days remaining. Even if there were time, it’s impossible,” Bishop Avery said. “Father Gerry Conroy’s scientific credentials are unique. It’s why he was selected for this project. It would require three specialists to replace him. That would mean three more technicians would be aware of the doubt surrounding the Fey. The Church wants this issue kept localized until more is known. The security issues alone….” He made a gesture with his hands as if helpless.
“You say you trust me. That you believe in what I’m doing.”
“I do.”
“Gerry Conroy will kill Liam Kelly if we leave him in his care.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Bishop Avery looked down at the sleeping Liam. “If we were to assign a medical technician to stand in for Gerry whenever patient interaction is required, would that suffice?”
BOOK: And Blue Skies From Pain
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