In the Shadows (9 page)

              “Thank you, by the way, for coming,” he says, giving my hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze before halting suddenly, his head snapping up. “We’re almost there.”

              “How can you tell?”

              “I have a hunch.” He winks.

              “Are you doing okay, my dear?” Isobel calls back towards us from behind another mammoth boulder.

              “Yeah, I’m fine.”

              Isobel nods her approval before disappearing again. She’s a lady on a mission.

              When I get around the last large boulder I see an underground waterfall feeding a black pool of water. Isobel’s exploring the different cracks and crevices with increasing frustration when Jacoby stops her, “Isobel, stop right there. I think I see it.”

              “You do?” Isobel asks eagerly. “Where?”

              “Down there. Towards the center of the pool of water. You’re right. It’s not so much a color like a normal aura, but more like a constant rippling of the water itself.”

              “Where? I don’t see anything.”

              I’m straining so hard to see the so-called portal to the Underworld that I forget to pay attention where I’m placing my feet and my shoe slips.

              “Watch your—“

              I scramble to catch myself but the momentum is too much. My feet slip and my head hits something hard and wet and the next second I’m no longer in the cave with Jacoby and Isobel. I’m standing in one of the gardens in Álfheimr face to face with the Sun Goddess.

Chapter Eleven

              “
H
ello again, Mia. I have been waiting for an opportunity to speak with you again.” Sól’s lyrical voice greets me.

              “Why do you always wait until I’m scared or hurt to speak to me?” I ask accusingly, cautiously rubbing the back of my head where I fell, but it feels completely fine. Of course it’ll likely be a different story when I return to the real world. “Wouldn’t it be more pleasant to meet under different circumstances?”

              “You are most vulnerable when you are frightened or suffering. It is easier to break into your subconscious during those times.”

              “I still think it sucks,” I mumble to myself.

              “I know that this is frustrating for you. Just trust me when I say I have my reasons. I’ve come to warn you. The Dark Elves are not your only foe. Be wary of who you trust. There is another--”

              Her image starts to fade out and I can faintly hear Jacoby’s voice calling my name. “You are about to wake up. I will try to talk to you again soon.”

              “But wait!” I yell as her image fades even more. “You have to tell me who it is!”

              “There’s no time to explain. Just remember, not everyone is who they seem. Good bye, Mia.”

              “Mia!” Jacoby’s voice is clearer now though I can tell my brain is still a little hazy since I’m pretty sure there can’t really be two of him standing before me fuzzy and blurry, in and out of focus like I’m looking through a kaleidoscope. “Can you hear me?”

              My eyelids flutter open and I try to focus on his worried expression.

              “Jacoby?” I’m disoriented by the pain in the back of my head and the sudden change of scenery. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

              I realize that he’s not wearing a shirt and that he has his hand pressed up against the back of my skull. I reach back, removing the shirt to feel the back of my now damp head and when I pull my hand away there’s blood on my fingers. I feel the bile rise to my throat as my insides clench up in a ball.

              “I tried to stop the bleeding as best I could until I could wake you up so you could heal yourself quicker.”

              “I’m not sure if I have the energy right now,” I admit and Jacoby’s face blanches with worry.

              “Should I take you to the hospital?” 

              “No, just give me a second.” He presses his shirt to my head again as I take deep breaths trying to regain some control over my shaking body. Once my heart rate has slowed down I focus all of my energy on the back of my head and feel the familiar tingly sensation beginning in my core and it starts to travel up my spine and then, nothing. It just sort of fizzles out.

              “What was that?” I gasp in pain. I gingerly touch the back of my head again and discover what I already know; I’m still bleeding. For some reason I can’t concentrate enough to heal myself. This doesn’t make any sense. I’ve healed my hand after a third degree burn, why can’t I heal myself now?

              Jacoby looks at Isobel, plainly confused and concerned about my sanity.

              “Why didn’t it work?” My eyebrows involuntarily pull together in frustration immediately causing me to wince in response. I just want someone to tell me why it’s not working.

              They exchange another look and I realize that they have no idea either. “Of course. How could you know?” I say more to myself. I’m the only known healer in Álfheimr so nobody ever has the answers I need. 

              “Lark, are you okay?” Jacoby reaches his hand towards me, raising my chin so he can check my eyes to make sure I’m not suffering from a concussion.

              “What happened, dear?” Isobel asks curiously.

              “I don’t know.” The words are barely a whisper as the pain becomes overwhelming. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Usually when I heal the process induces a gradual tingly feeling that eventually takes over my entire body. I felt it starting to work a few minutes ago, but then it stopped for some reason. “I don’t know what happened.”

              “When was the last time you healed someone?” Isobel asks. I try to answer but the pain in my head is excruciating. I continue to try to heal myself but I can’t seem to focus.

              “I think it was that night. When she healed the humans the Dark Elves had held prisoner. I don’t think she’s healed anyone since then,” Jacoby answers for me.

              “Perhaps she’s just out of practice?” she suggests.

              “Can that happen?” Jacoby asked.

              I’m starting to get woozy.

              “I think we need to take her to the hospital,” Jacoby replies worriedly as he continues to put pressure on the back of my head.

              “But the portal—” I manage to get the words out but when I try to stand up I’m so dizzy I lose my balance and nearly fall over again. Luckily, Jacoby’s close enough that he’s able to steady me quickly before I crack my head open again.

              “Don’t even worry about it, my dear. We need to get you taken care of. That is the most important thing.”

              “Are you sure? I mean, I’m sure if we waited a second maybe I—” But I know they’re right. I’m struggling to keep focus on anything. Is it because it’s my head that’s injured? Is that why I can’t focus enough to heal myself?

              Even thinking hurts so I try not to concentrate on anything else but breathing in and out, in and out, willing myself not to panic, but my efforts are fruitless as I feel the world starting to slip away again, fading to black.

              “Take Mia on to the hospital. I’m sure she’ll need stitches. I’ll go update Alberico,” Isobel instructs Jacoby before kissing my cheek and transporting away.

              Jacoby pulls me up into his arms like a rag doll and whispers, “Just hold on, Lark. I’ll take care of you.”

              Then I sink into a black abyss.

              The next thing I’m aware of is that I’m lying in a white sterile hospital room surrounded by an ugly floral curtain and a splitting headache. I automatically reach for the back of my head but a tugging on my arm halts my movement: an IV.

              I hate needles.

              I raise my other arm and gingerly touch injury feeling the long bumpy line of metal staples. I count each one. Seven. Seven staples in the back of my head but thankfully, all of my hair seems to be intact.

              “They don’t shave your head anymore,” Jacoby says from a chair beside my bed. “You’re lucky you were knocked out for those staples though. It was painful for me to watch.” He shudders.

              “How long have I been out?”

              “A couple of hours. I tried calling your mom but it went straight to voicemail.”

              “She’s probably in her studio. Is Paul here?”

              “I asked already, he’s in surgery.”

              Just then a nurse walks in. “Oh good! You’re awake. I’ll just check your vitals and then I’ll send for the doctor.”

              “What happened?” I ask Jacoby while the nurse listens to my heart and lungs and checks my blood pressure.

              “We were hiking and you slipped.”

              “Well, no wonder in those shoes,” the nurse scolds as she removes the stethoscope from her ears and wraps it around her neck. “Everything looks good, I’ll go fetch Dr. McVey and let him know you’re awake.”

              As soon as she leaves Jacoby uses mind-speak to ask,
“Do you remember anything?”

              I wince as a sharp pain stabs through my brain.               “Oh!”

              “What hurts?” Jacoby jumps up.

              “That hurt. When you did, you know that thing that we do.”

              “Are you serious? I’m so sorry!”

              “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

              Why can’t I heal myself? Why does it suddenly hurt to have Jacoby speak in my mind?

              “Do you think it’s the head injury?” Jacoby asks.

              “It has to be. I can’t think of anything else it could be. Do you think I’m broken, you know, permanently?”

              “I doubt it, Lark. I’m sure you’ll be back to normal soon.”

              I shrug and shake my head without thinking, causing a fresh wave of pain. Jacoby carefully strokes my arm in an attempt to comfort me without disturbing the wire from my IV.

              Dr. McVey walks in the room with his clipboard. I recognize him from the annual holiday parties we attend with Paul every year.

              “Mia-Schmia, how’ve you been?” Dr. McVey’s informal greeting is comforting. I wonder if he has such good bedside manner with all of his patients or if it’s just because he knows my step-dad.

              “I’ve been better,” I admit to him.

              “I bet,” he replies, looking down at my chart. “That was quite the gash you came in with. We had to put seven staples in to close you up. Those will have to come out in about ten days so you should be all healed up in time for prom.” He smiles.

              “Good to know.”

              He hands me some paperwork. “The nurses have your discharge papers so you should be good to go. Here is a prescription for the antibiotic and some pain medication just in case you need it.”

              “Thank you, Dr. McVey.” I take the paper from him with no real intent of using the pain medicine. Sól said it’s easier for her to visit me when I’m weak and vulnerable, well now I’m both so she has no excuse not to come back and finish the conversation she started. Who was she talking about?

              “Some dizziness is to be expected but if you experience any vision problems, a worsening headache, or uncontrolled vomiting, please come back in, okay?”

              “Alright.” I nod so that he knows I understand and wince when my head protests the sudden movement.

              “Oh, Dr. McVey, do you think you could maybe not mention this to Paul. I don’t want him to worry about me. I’ll just tell him when he gets home tonight.”

              “Mum’s the word.” He smiles jovially as he waves good bye.

              Dr. McVey leaves the room and a nurse comes in to help me dress after kicking Jacoby out. My head is throbbing and I’m wondering if it's really worth the pain just for a slight chance that Sól might make a reappearance and explain everything. Maybe it's a good thing I accepted those pain pills after all.

              “Are you in pain?” Jacoby asks me when we are alone again.  I wonder if he heard some of my thoughts while I was getting dressed--including the part about my conversation with Sól—or if he is just concerned.

              “A little.”

              “Is there anything I can do?”

              “No, I'll be okay.” I tell him I'm not completely sure why I don't just tell him about my encounter with Sól. I don’t know why, but something about what she said makes me want to keep it to myself.

              Not everyone is who they seem.

              One miniscule conversation and Sól has me questioning everything that I think I know about the people that surround me in my life. I don’t like the tightness in my chest or the distrustful thoughts currently coursing through my head. However, as much as I want to pretend that she’s mistaken, I have a feeling she probably knows what she’s talking about—being omnipresent and all that jazz.

              “Earth to Lark,” Jacoby says as he waves his hand in front of my face to capture my attention. I realize he must have said something.

              “Huh? Sorry, what did you say?”

              “Its okay. Wasn't anything important. I just said, it's too bad we missed the dinner trays.”

              “What?” I ask, anxiety creeping in like it does when I know that I've forgotten to do something but I can't seem to remember what it is that I've forgotten.

              “I’m just teasing. Even I know hospital food sucks.”

              “Dinner tray?” I ask, scrunching my eyebrows together in confusion making my head hurt even more as I remember that it’s Saturday. “What time is it?”

              “It’s a little after six,” Jacoby answers. “Why?”

              “Crap! I missed cheerleading try-outs!” I feel the desire to smack myself upside the head for being so stupid but I figure that’d probably be pretty painful and my desire for self-preservation wins out. “Hannah is going to kill me!”