Light A Single Candle
Amy
Chan pulled into the traffic jam at 43rd street, and as she inched
her way toward the bridge and home, she suddenly noticed the birds flocking to
the cars ahead of her.
Huh? What’re those? She
thought, and then realized there was more ahead than a simple accident. Reaching for her jacket in the back seat,
she swung out of her car, and into the chaos of the accident scene.
As she ran, she pulled a stethoscope
from her pocket, calmly thanked the Gods of Medicine yet again, and assessed
the scene in front of her.
For the man, she could do
nothing. His face, and most of his
head, had been hollowed out like a clam.
What the hell could do something
like this…?
She pushed the thought from her mind:
she’d come back to it later, but for now there were injured to deal with.
The woman lay about fifteen feet from
the man, shaking, with the pale blue skin of oxygen deprivation. Amy looked her over impassively, checking
her airway, feeling for a pulse. She
noticed the woman’s bulging stomach, shook her head sadly for the mother and
child about to die.
Then she noticed a small piece of
black glass lodged in the woman’s neck.
With deft fingers, she plucked it out.
The claw twisted in her hand, trying
to pierce her skin. She smacked her
other hand down on it, and it splashed, as if it had been nothing but
water. It left an oily puddle on her
palm.
Chimerical weapons? She thought
with a start, then turned to the woman again.
What she saw then rocked her back onto her heels in the street. Webs, like fine threads, had begun to sprout
from her eyes, her nostrils, even her mouth.
Amy knew they were chimerical, that ordinary humans couldn’t see them,
but she could. But, despite their Fae
nature, the webs were capable of doing real damage. Of causing death.
Amy didn’t waste the time wondering
who this woman was, or how she had run so afoul of a slugh assassin. She swept the webs from her mouth and bent
over her to begin rescue breathing. As
the webs tried to worm their way from their host and into Amy, she bit at them,
and sent them curling back upon themselves.
Do not interfere with the churigan
of House Liam, she thought.
She continued the breathing as the
sharp wail of sirens pierced the crowd, and stopped only when she was assured
the ambulance was equipped with life-support.
Then she sat back, exhausted, as the attendants loaded the young woman,
now hooked to bright blue and yellow tubes, into the back.
And have I done the right thing? She thought briefly, as they pulled away
from the snarl of police cars and wrecked vehicles. She wiped dirt from her cheek, pushed her long black hair back
behind her ear. Then she made her way
back to her car. With shaking hands,
she pawed around in her purse, until she found her cell phone. She dialed a number from memory, and then
bit her lip when her husband answered, hoping her voice was not too weak, or
too shaky, that it would alarm him.
“There’s a case coming in, right
now.” She repeated the ambulance number
to him. “It is … one of us, I
think. Please, my love, do all that you
can for her. This is strange. She was attacked by the inner spinners,”
this last, she said low, and in Korean, so that anyone listening would not
hear, or understand. “I am coming back
in. I will take this patient, if she
even makes it to MICU.”
She hung up before her husband could
protest her return.
Honestly, she loved Scott from the
bottom of her heart, but sometimes, he was such a worrywart. She turned her little car around, wading
through the traffic, then used one of her Fae magicks to clear a lane for her
to return to the hospital quickly.
Some days, it’s good to be
Fae.
And then she thought of the woman, now
fighting for her life because of a fae talent, and she shuddered.