Page 30 of The Healing Dragon (The Red Book #2)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

JANELLE

I hand Isabel Amy Bee’s note and see her hesitation to even take the piece of paper. She reads it a few times, given the amount of time she stares at the words. There are not that many words altogether.

“I will have this ready by lunchtime. Do you mind dropping off the new basket?” She asks me in a soft tone.

I think that if I said no, she would cry.

I nod instead and give her a reassuring smile.

There are a lot of things to fear in this world, and Amy Bee doesn’t seem to be one of them.

I have no idea what Isabel has done to land on the medic’s bad side, but a little part of me is glad I’m not the only one with problems. Even perfect little Isabel has them.

The morning goes by fast and soon enough, it’s time to deliver the basket. Isabel has a system in which baskets only need to be delivered once a week. Since I delivered most yesterday, I only have Amy Bee’s delivery today.

The clinic is quiet as I approach. The majority of the staff can be found in the dining hall at this time. I knock lightly on the entrance when I don’t see Amy Bee right away. She sticks her head out of one of the observation rooms and gestures at me to wait for her at her desk. I do.

“Well, would you look at this,” Pad says, entering the clinic behind me. “Two days in a row.”

“How are you, Pad?” I smile at the old man.

He pats the sides of his stomach. “Not going hungry. That’s for sure. Did you eat today?”

“About to.” It’s a half lie. I plan on finding food after I’m done with Matias and Santiago.

“Oh hey Pad,” Amy Bee greets him, finally joining us.

She reaches for the basket and inspects all the different herbs inside. “Everything looks to be here.”

“Is one of those for me?” Pad asks.

Amy Bee nods and gives him a smile. “How are your hands doing?”

“Well,” he pulls his hand up and they are shaking. “The shakes are back. It makes cooking so much harder.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask as I take a closer look at his hands.

“Arthritis.” He looks at his shaking hands like he is trying to will them to stop, but to no avail. “Magic can heal and cure only so much. The toll of the body is something out of the range of power.” The laughter he lets out is hollow. “I suppose we would all live forever otherwise.”

This is the first time I noticed the tightness in his eyes that wasn’t there yesterday.

Amy Bee pulls one bag and hands it to him. “This will make you feel better instantly. I can’t apologize enough for making you wait a single day longer.”

She was furious with Isabel because she forgot the bags used for medical pain. Looking at the strain in Pad, it’s no wonder why Amy Bee was so upset. She knew what the day would be for him without them.

“Thank you,” Pad says as he takes the herbs in hand. He kisses the bag and pulls it to his chest in a gesture of appreciation.

“Wait,” I say without thinking.

I reach Pad and place my hand in his. I close my eyes and push the healing energy into him. It’s unlikely that I’ll be able to completely heal him. Oli has had a bad knee for years now. I’ve been able to soothe his pain to the point he feels as if nothing is wrong with him.

Pad gasps as we both watch as his hands stop shaking.

“It’s gone, the pain is gone.” His laughter is genuine this time.

“How?” Amy Bee asks in shock.

“It won’t last forever, maybe a couple of days,” I say.

I didn’t have to soothe Oliver every day, but about once a week unless he had an especially hard day. I might have to add stopping at the kitchen as part of my routine before or after breakfast to make sure Pad is ready for the day.

“Can you cure chronic pain?” Amy Bee asks, trying to figure out what just happened.

“I can soothe it. I can heal only small things like cuts and scratches. But for big illnesses or internal injuries, I can soothe the pain away.”

The look on Amy Bee’s face is close to diabolical. It’s a smile, but I’ve never seen something so wide and expressive on her face. I take a step back and regret ever saying she wasn’t something to fear. Isabel has my condolences.

“Can you please be here by five tomorrow morning?”

“I don’t think so. That’s an unholy hour.”

Who on earth gets that early to do anything requiring functioning?

“Janelle Duelo,” Amy Bee says in a sweet sing-song voice. “Be here tomorrow by five in the morning or I will go find you.” Her smile drops and the tone of her voice does, too. “You don’t want me to go find you.”

“Fine,” I spit out. “I’ll be here tomorrow morning at five.”

“I do not know what’s happening, but I will be here too with breakfast for all of us,” Pad says with a smile.

“That is very nice of you, Pad,” Amy bee says in a cheerful tone once again.

I watch the little sociopath walk back to her desk in her cheerful mood.

“I will head out then.” I look between them.

“See you tomorrow bright and early,” Amy Bee waves with a smile, like she didn’t just threaten me and forced my hand.

I roll my eyes and leave the clinic. Looking at a clock on the wall, I realize I spent longer than anticipated with that errand. I make my way to the forest behind the castle. The training circles seem almost deserted as the dining hall fills with hungry people.

My steps pause in the middle of the yard as pressure rises, slowing my pace. The current pressure of the atmosphere resembles the one of water. I take one step and the pull against it reminds me of walking in a pool.

“This is odd,” I say.

I place my hand up and try to scan for magic when I recall my lack thereof.

That is also when I recall the protection spell that encapsulates the Black Castle and its grounds.

I push against the pressure and walk past it.

Once the tension drops, I know I have crossed the barrier.

I look back at the castle and admire how the few people that were visible by the gardens seconds ago are gone.

The protection spell conceals anyone on the other side from sight.

I walk into the woods and find the first clearing and spot Matias and Santiago right away. They are sitting side by side on a boulder with a bag of snacks between them. I knew that planning to meet during lunch didn’t mean either of them were planning on going hungry. I’m glad about it too.

“There you are!” Matias greets with a smile.

The bags under his eyes look smaller and the smile less heavy. Last night I was so tired. I slept like the dead and from the looks of it, so did Matias. I’m glad for it.

I only get a nod from Santiago, but I don’t mind. That’s a better greeting than I got yesterday.

“Let’s not delay this any further.” I turn to look into the vegetation. “Matias, can you call for it?”

“Already?” Santiago asks, looking into the woods. “Shouldn’t we prepare what we plan to ask?”

“Are you scared?” Matias looks amused.

“Who? Me?” Santiago shakes his head.

“She will not hurt you. She listens to me. I often wonder if I will find her on the edges of the barrier, but she is never there.” Matias taps his chest. “It’s like I know she will only come if I ask.”

“Then ask,” I urge him and stop myself from reminding him once again that Calaca is not a girl.

Santiago is about to say something when movement from the bushes to our right alerts us. The skeletal figure draped in cream color fabric steps out of the darkness into view. No one says a word as it crosses the distance directly to Matias’s side.

Santiago moves behind me. His hands grip to my shoulders tightly. “Don't worry, Janelle, I will protect us.”

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “By using me as a shield.” I push his hands off me.

“I don’t remember you being so tall.” Matias looks up at Calaca with concerned eyes. “You can hear me when I call you in my head?”

Calaca nods its head slowly .

“Can you hear all my thoughts?” His tone is curious, not accusatory.

“I can only hear you when you call for me,” it confirms.

Matias lowers his voice. “What about the other voice?”

“You hear others?” Calaca looks around as if someone else was around it would see them. It stops when its body turns to the castle. “You hear voices inside the Black Castle?”

“Sometimes,” Matias says. “Well, one voice.”

“I don’t hear voices from here.” It points at the castle. “I’ve got to get closer to the walls to hear what they whisper.”

“No, I hear them here.” Matias gestures to his temple.

Calaca moves its skeletal hand over Matias and takes a closer look.

“I don’t hear anything inside your head but you.”

“What do you see in Matias?” I ask, prompting. “You said Matias’ magic is what you recognize as your sire, correct?”

Calaca nods. “I sense your magic, the one that created me.”

“Yeah, about that.” Matias scratches his head. “I don’t think that magic is mine. I think it’s the Red Book.”

Calaca inclines its head to one side, then another.

“Is it?” I ask.

“Books can’t talk,” Santiago says, still hiding behind me. “The Red Book is not the voice inside your head. It has to be someone or something else.”

Calaca looks between Santiago and Matias. “The magic that created me, it’s not yours but bestowed to you to keep?” Calaca asks.

Matias shrugs one shoulder. “I think so.”

“If that is the case, look inside you. The way you reached for me, reach for it and demand answers.”

The order is so simple. Matias looks at me and a flash of apprehension crosses his eyes.

“What if, by letting it talk to me, it takes over? ”

He hasn’t talked to it or listened to what it has to say out of fear of losing control.

“It can’t.” Calaca reaches for him and places one hand on his shoulder. “The vessel is yours. It can’t hurt you.”

“It took control once.” Matias steps away. His eyes find mine and I can see he is close to spiraling. “The day we escaped. It raised the dead to help us. I didn’t do that. It took over.”

“It did it to protect you.” I step forward. I can feel Santiago reach for me to pull me back, but his hand isn’t quick enough. “If it meant to do it again, I doubt there is much we can do to stop it.”