“Sounds good to me,” I said, or thought I said. After a while, I managed a small smile. Blood leaked from the corners of my mouth.
“What?” said Molly.
“Those were just the Introductory Games,” I said. “Can’t wait to see what the next level’s like. . . .”
CHAPTER SIX
Robbery with Attitude
I don’t remember how they got me to the elevators. I remember drifting in and out, sudden flashes of pain, of people and places, and Molly yelling at Frankie to support more of my weight. I remember the taste of blood in my mouth, and light that hurt my one working eye, and voices that seemed to come from far, far away. I was broken. I knew that, but I couldn’t seem to care.
I remember being in the elevator, and Molly crying out with relief as the null lifted and her magics returned. She quickly cast a levitation spell on me so I could hang in mid-air, unsupported. It felt like being carried on the backs of angels. Molly leaned tiredly against the wall of the elevator, getting her strength back. The front of her dress was covered in blood. My blood. Frankie stood at the back of the lift, sulking because Molly had yelled at him. I looked down, and saw blood dripping steadily off me, to form a widening pool beneath my floating feet.
The elevator doors finally opened onto our floor, and Molly quickly floated me out of the elevator and down the corridor to our suite. I settled into the embrace of the levitation spell, like snuggling into bed. It felt good, peaceful, distant . . . far less painful than being hauled around. Any sudden movement meant fresh pain, sudden spikes that jolted me out of my protective daze, waking me up. I didn’t want to wake up. Molly opened the door to our suite and sent me floating in with a wave of her hand. I caught a glimpse of Frankie looking quickly up and down the corridor, to see if anyone was watching, and then he hurried in and locked the door behind him.
Molly lowered me onto the bed as carefully as she could, but I still cried out despite myself. Even the soft and supportive mattress was enough to put pressure on my broken body, and set all my wounds crying out again. Molly sank down onto a chair by the bed. She looked exhausted, and bad as I felt there was still enough of me left to worry about her. A simple levitation spell shouldn’t have taken that much out of her. Frankie dithered at the foot of the bed, hardly able to look at me, as though what he saw disturbed him.
“Should I ring for the hotel doctor?” he said. “I really think I should ring for a doctor. I mean, look at the state he’s in!”
“No doctor,” said Molly. “I can see how bad he is. I’m not blind! But I wouldn’t trust any doctor this hotel might provide. We can’t have anyone knowing how bad he is, and there’s always the chance the doctor might be able to tell who and what he really is. . . . You’d better be right about the surveillance bugs in this place, Frankie, because I am getting really tired of having to talk in circles. Anyway, we don’t need a doctor. I can heal him. As soon as I get my second wind. There’s something wrong here. . . . I think there’s a low-level null working everywhere in this hotel, hidden under the surface. Just enough to make every kind of magic an effort, and slow the players down. Give the Casino an advantage. . . .”
“You can sense that?” Frankie said dubiously.
“I can feel the extra effort involved,” said Molly.
“Can you still heal him?”
“I once brought him back from the shores of death,” said Molly. “This is just damage . . . I can fix damage. Go outside, Frankie, you’re a distraction. Guard the door, warn me if anyone’s coming, and don’t let anyone in unless I tell you otherwise.”
Frankie nodded quickly, and left.
“I thought he’d never go,” I said.
Molly levered herself up out of her chair and leaned over me, her face close to mine. “Hush, sweetie. I didn’t realise you were awake or I’d have put you under with a sleep spell.”
“No,” I said. “Don’t. I’m afraid to sleep. Afraid to let go, in case I don’t wake up again. This is bad, Molly. Really bad. I can feel . . . broken things, grinding together inside me.”
“That little bastard really did a job on you,” said Molly. “Who was he? It looked like he knew you, and you knew him.”
“An old friend,” I said. “And an old enemy. That’s the spy game for you, mostly.”
“I know, sweetie. Now shut the hell up so I can work on you.”
“Yes, doctor,” I said.
“We can play doctors and nurses later,” said Molly, trying to smile. “When you’re all better.”
“Can I be the doctor, for a change?”
“If you’re good.”
She kissed me briefly on the forehead, and then stood back, facing the bed. She frowned intently, her whole face a mask of concentration. She didn’t wave her hands around or chant incantations; most of that stuff is strictly for the rubes. She just gathered her strength, and drew energy from the hidden worlds so she could do what she needed to do. And just like that my body became transparent wherever she looked, so she could See inside me, and See how bad the damage was. The spell must have leaked at the edges, because I could See what she was Seeing.
My left arm was badly broken, in three places, splinters of shattered bone piercing the torn skin. Ribs were broken and shattered, all down one side. Some of them had pierced the lung. I could See great areas of internal bleeding, moving inside me like slow dark tides. Molly looked at my head. I couldn’t See what she Saw, but it must have been really bad, judging by the look on her face. It was actually something of a relief, to know I had good reason to feel this bad.
I was breathing as shallowly as I could, because even the smallest movement hurt so badly I had to fight to keep from crying out, when Molly finished her scan and shut off the spell. She sat down in her chair again. She was crying, silently. Great fat tears, rolling down her cheeks. I wanted to reach out a hand to her, but I couldn’t.
“Don’t,” I said. “Don’t, love, please.”
“Dear God, you’re a mess,” said Molly, sniffing back her tears so she could try to sound professional again. “I can’t believe how much damage you took in that fight. I can’t believe you hung on that long, to take him down.”
“Growing up with my family,” I said, “you learn to take punishment and keep going. I had to kill him, Molly.”
“Hush. . . .”
“I had no choice! He had to die, because he knew who I was, knew me from before. He would have told everyone if I’d let him live.”
“You had no choice,” said Molly. “He would have killed you. And if you hadn’t killed him, I would have. For what he did to you.”
“Can you fix me?” I said. “If there is a null operating here . . .”
“Low level,” said Molly. “I spit on their null. It’ll just make the job that little bit more difficult, that’s all. Means I’ll have to do it the hard way. And I’ll have to put a screen over us, to block out the bugs. Can’t have anyone watching this. Now shut the hell up and let me concentrate.”
“Yes, dear,” I said.
She spoke Words of Power over me, and I could feel her presence growing in the room, eclipsing everything else. I could feel her, as closely as I felt myself. Her mind, her soul, reaching out to me. Linking herself to me. And then she healed me, by taking my injuries into herself. She lay down on the bed beside me, taking my hand in hers, and one by one she took every broken thing inside me . . . and made them hers. I heard the bones in her left arm break, three times, but she never made a sound. My arm was immediately whole again, and I felt the magic course through her, as her bones healed in a moment. She stirred and stiffened on the bed beside me, sweat running off her face as she concentrated, taking my hurts and making them her own, so she could mend them inside herself. Because an injury shared is an injury halved, or at least weakened, and easier to deal with. My pain disappeared as she embraced it, and then rejected it. And she never cried out once. I knew what she was feeling because I’d felt it first, and I could only marvel at her strength.