Darkness

May 14, 1812

Gregor

The book I am reading in the dark, propped in bed next to Rosalind as she slumbers, is very engrossing, and it startles me just a little when Wolk interrupts me. “Albert’s symptoms are worsening, beloved. His fever has become very high, and he is feeling quite miserable.”

Oh. Drat. I had hoped that they’d both be feeling better by now. I went back yesterday when I returned from Homochitto to lay hands on them, and even snuck down there again later, before midnight. “What time is it?” I ask.

“It is a quarter to five in the morning.”

Hm. I slip carefully out of bed and pad softly over to the window to glance outside. The sky to the east has a slight tinge of gray to it, the darkness of night starting to succumb to the coming dawn.

I start pulling on my clothes as quietly as I can, trying not to disturb Rosalind, and wondering if I can go take care of Albert and then sneak back before anybody even wakes up.

“Actually, darling, Baker is already awake, and considering for himself whether he should go down so early to check on his ill crewmen.”

Ah. All right, then, maybe we can both go. “Is Abigail awake?” I ask.

“Yes, darling, and they are whispering about whether he should go now or wait.”

I look at Rosalind’s softly sleeping countenance as I move towards the door, and want so badly to kiss her, but I want more to let her sleep. I open the door as quietly as I can, and close it behind me without a sound.

“It worked, she’s still sleeping. So is Vernon.”

I steal down the hallway in my stocking feet, carrying my shoes, and tap very lightly on the door to the guestroom. In a moment Baker is peeking his head through the door looking down at me, wondering why on earth I am knocking at this hour. I see Abigail sitting up on the bed behind him, holding the covers up to her chin.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I whisper with total honesty. That’s usually true. “I thought I’d head down to check on Albert and Caleb.”

“Good,” he says, “I was thinking the same. Wait just a minute, I’ll join you.”

I nod. “Meet you downstairs.”

In a couple of minutes we are walking down the hill. I know Abigail will tell Rosalind where we went when she gets up.

When we get to the boarding house extension, David is sitting in the parlor, reading a book. When we draw close enough I smile when I see that it is the most recent copy of The Navigator, from last year. I wonder when Zadoc will get the next edition out? He should have made it to Pittsburgh by now.

“Hey, David,” I say, “you got the night shift? How are they doing?”

“I think Caleb is doing all right, but Albert is very hot, and he has the dry heaves. There’s nothing left in him, but it keeps going. I’ve emptied his basin a few times.” He grimaces.

Baker looks at me, concerned.

“Thank you, David,” I tell him, “I know how unpleasant this is.”

He shrugs. “I’m glad to help.”

“Is there any fresh water in there?” I ask.

“Yes, in a jug.”

“All right,” I say, “why don’t you go on home and see if you can get a little rest before the sun comes up. I’ll stay here.”

“Okay, ’night,” he says, loping towards the door.

When Baker and I get into their room, Caleb is propped up on one elbow on his bed, looking at his roommate with concern in the dim light of the lantern that has been left burning. Albert is lying back, but it is not a peaceful sleep. He is weakly thrashing and moaning. I move at once to him, and put one hand on his shoulder to still him, and the other hand on his forehead. He is truly burning up. I split my focus, thinking “Heal!” at him, sending the energy flowing through my hands, feeling Wolk transmitting it to me. At the same time I ask Baker, “Can you get me a damp cloth? It’ll help with the fever.”

He hands it to me quickly, and I start mopping Albert’s sweaty face with it, always keeping my hands on him as much as possible. I feel that Wolk and I are getting better and better at this. His energy surges through me, straight through my hands. It is an amazing feeling, to know myself to be the conduit of his power.

“It is not only my power, beloved,” he tells me, “it is your inventiveness, and your nature as a Seer that allows you to utilize it in this way.”

Well, not really my inventiveness. I always knew it was possible, after knowing Yosh all those years ago. I’m a bit ashamed of myself for never much using this ability until recently. I guess I never felt the need. I have rarely been in situations where I felt so compelled to help other people. Everything has changed for me since I got to Natchez. Maybe because of Ayola, maybe because of Rosalind, or maybe as Wolk says, because my heart was simply tired of loneliness. I’ll probably never really understand. “Is it working?” I ask Wolk, although I can see for myself that Albert seems quieter, calmer, and is apparently just sleeping peacefully again.

“Yes, darling, it seems quite effective. The fever is being reduced, and as you see Albert is much more comfortable.”

Poor Baker is standing there staring, not sure what he should be doing. I continue applying the damp cloth to Albert’s skin, and look over at Caleb. “How’re you doing?” I ask him.

“Better than him,” he says, waving a hand at his companion.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that, at least,” I tell him. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep, I’ll sit here with Albert and do my best not to disturb you.”

He sighs, nods, and slumps back down onto his pillow. In just a couple of minutes I hear his breathing slow into sleep. My goodness, if only it could be that easy for me. Granted, he’s sick, and that probably helps, but still.

I look up at Baker and whisper, “Well, I think I’ve got this. I know Samuel will come and check on them sometime after dawn. I’ll just stay here until then. You can head over to the ship if you’d like.”

“Are you sure?” he says. They’re his crew members, after all.

“Absolutely,” I say. “I don’t mind a bit. I’ll come and let you know what the doctor says after he visits.”

He shrugs slightly, nods, and heads out.

I glance at Caleb, slumbering soundly. Albert is also apparently in a deep sleep.

Perfect. I lay my hands flat on Albert, one on his head and one on his chest, and concentrate, Wolk focusing on sending all the energy I need for healing. I should have an hour or so at least before Samuel arrives. Hopefully this will do the trick.

Gregor’s

It is remarkable to observe how his ability has grown in just the last year, since he first tried to heal Rosalind. We have both learned a great deal about how to effectuate the healing of injuries or illness.

Throughout his entire life, his touch has brought comfort. He never fully appreciated how much. But he has always instinctively touched people, with a lingering handshake, a pat on the back, a grip of a shoulder, and almost every time the person being touched has felt a warm sense of comfort as a result. The prostitutes that he frequented always enjoyed an unusual delight with him, more so than any other customer, and it was only partially because of the skills he has gained through long experience. There is something innately soothing about the touch of a Seer, even without the intensely directed effort that he is currently engaged in.

But now he has learned how to focus, how to concentrate, how to direct the power through himself to the patient. I have learned how to send him enough energy to heal, but not so much that my control over the glamour which disguises him is impaired. The whipping incident taught me that. Our combined efforts, using our recently learned skills, make us an impressively effective healing team.

As a result, Albert is truly being cured now that Gregor has the opportunity to lay hands on him for a prolonged period. The infection which was ravaging his system is diminishing, his pain and fever are receding, the damage to his organs which had begun is being reversed.

After nearly an hour of concentrated effort on both of our parts, Gregor thinks to me, “Give me an analysis.”

Before I get the chance, though, Albert opens his eyes, looking not bright with fever and pain, but with a sense of relief. “Oh, hello,” he says, waking to find Gregor there holding a cloth to his forehead. He reaches up to touch the cloth. “Um, thanks.”

Gregor leans back from him, finally taking his hand off. Except for a few minutes which he spent touching Caleb, lightly enough not to wake him, he has had his hands on Albert since he arrived. “Good morning,” he says with a little smile, “how are you feeling?”

Albert looks around, almost as though confused by how much he has improved. “Um, a lot better, actually. Man, I wanted to just die last night.”

Gregor nods. “I heard you were pretty sick, but it looks like maybe you’ve turned the corner.”

Caleb wakens, hearing their voices, and rolls over to see what is happening. “Hey, Albert,” he says, “you sure seem better. You looked like crap last night.”

Albert chuckles. “Well, sorry for being so disgusting.” Caleb rolls his eyes, and all three of the men join in soft laughter.

“Darling, Samuel has arrived.”