seat, walked across the room to where a pitcher of water rested on a rough-cut wooden table, and poured a small glass. He returned to the bed and took his seat once more.
Father Morrigan pushed himself to a sitting position, but the motion was too sudden, and he fell back with a moan. His vision swam, and the darkness rose up, threatening to consume him once more. He laid his arm across his eyes and took several long, deep breaths.
When he opened his eyes again, Father Prescott offered him the glass of water. This time, Father Morrigan sat up more slowly and leaned against the bed’s heavy wooden headboard. He took the glass gratefully, sipped the water, and then gulped it as he finally registered the parched condition of his tongue and the cracking, dry skin on his lips.
When the glass was empty, he handed it back slowly, and closed his eyes. The full memory of what had happened in the clearing – up to a point -- swept over him like a tide, and he turned, too quickly this time, to stare into Father Prescott’s eyes.
“What happened out there?” he asked.
“You fainted,” Father Prescott replied, his eyes dancing.
“You know what I mean,” Father Morrigan snapped, instantly regretting the hard shake of his head and the tone of his voice. Technically, Father Prescott was his superior – though they worked in different divisions of the same department.
“The blood – that blood. It was everywhere. I . . .”
Father Prescott watched the younger priest calmly as he sputtered, lost the words he’d intended to speak, and covered that loss by attempting to sip from the empty water glass in his hand. Finally, Father Prescott spoke.
“I don’t know what happened, Brian,” he said. “That’s why I’m here, you know, to find out? I wouldn’t have had you come on us like that without warning, but to be honest, I didn’t even know you were there. I got the wire saying you were inbound, but I didn’t expect you for hours.”
Brian eased back against the headboard, sipped his water, and stared at the wall across from him. His eyes had taken on a faraway, glazed expression.
“Brian,” Father Prescott said, “why are you here? I got the wire, but I’ll be honest. I find it hard to believe that after all of these years, Rome doesn’t trust my judgment. And there are others in the department, seasoned to such situations . . . ”
Father Prescott’s voice trailed off, but the implication was clear.
Brian’s eyes refocused and opened wide in sudden alarm.
“Oh,” he said, “It’s nothing like that. Nothing like that at all. I…”
Father Prescott watched Brian silently, lifting one eyebrow, but saying nothing. He was obviously amused at the younger priest’s embarrassment, and in no hurry to relieve it. Father Morrigan squirmed and held out the water glass. Father Prescott refilled it and handed it back in silence.
“It’s a new assignment,” Father Morrigan burst out at last. “Top priority. This one comes straight from Cardinal O’Brien.”
Father Prescott’s smile faded. He was not ready for a new assignment. He had to find answers here – now. His mind drifted, just for a moment, to the clearing, and the soft, warm spatter of blood across his face. He saw their eyes, all those dark eyes, watching him – and waiting.
“He said you wouldn’t want to come,” Father Morrigan went on, seeing the shift in his companion’s features. “He told me this was important, and that I was to give you
Father Morrigan pushed himself to a sitting position, but the motion was too sudden, and he fell back with a moan. His vision swam, and the darkness rose up, threatening to consume him once more. He laid his arm across his eyes and took several long, deep breaths.
When he opened his eyes again, Father Prescott offered him the glass of water. This time, Father Morrigan sat up more slowly and leaned against the bed’s heavy wooden headboard. He took the glass gratefully, sipped the water, and then gulped it as he finally registered the parched condition of his tongue and the cracking, dry skin on his lips.
When the glass was empty, he handed it back slowly, and closed his eyes. The full memory of what had happened in the clearing – up to a point -- swept over him like a tide, and he turned, too quickly this time, to stare into Father Prescott’s eyes.
“What happened out there?” he asked.
“You fainted,” Father Prescott replied, his eyes dancing.
“You know what I mean,” Father Morrigan snapped, instantly regretting the hard shake of his head and the tone of his voice. Technically, Father Prescott was his superior – though they worked in different divisions of the same department.
“The blood – that blood. It was everywhere. I . . .”
Father Prescott watched the younger priest calmly as he sputtered, lost the words he’d intended to speak, and covered that loss by attempting to sip from the empty water glass in his hand. Finally, Father Prescott spoke.
“I don’t know what happened, Brian,” he said. “That’s why I’m here, you know, to find out? I wouldn’t have had you come on us like that without warning, but to be honest, I didn’t even know you were there. I got the wire saying you were inbound, but I didn’t expect you for hours.”
Brian eased back against the headboard, sipped his water, and stared at the wall across from him. His eyes had taken on a faraway, glazed expression.
“Brian,” Father Prescott said, “why are you here? I got the wire, but I’ll be honest. I find it hard to believe that after all of these years, Rome doesn’t trust my judgment. And there are others in the department, seasoned to such situations . . . ”
Father Prescott’s voice trailed off, but the implication was clear.
Brian’s eyes refocused and opened wide in sudden alarm.
“Oh,” he said, “It’s nothing like that. Nothing like that at all. I…”
Father Prescott watched Brian silently, lifting one eyebrow, but saying nothing. He was obviously amused at the younger priest’s embarrassment, and in no hurry to relieve it. Father Morrigan squirmed and held out the water glass. Father Prescott refilled it and handed it back in silence.
“It’s a new assignment,” Father Morrigan burst out at last. “Top priority. This one comes straight from Cardinal O’Brien.”
Father Prescott’s smile faded. He was not ready for a new assignment. He had to find answers here – now. His mind drifted, just for a moment, to the clearing, and the soft, warm spatter of blood across his face. He saw their eyes, all those dark eyes, watching him – and waiting.
“He said you wouldn’t want to come,” Father Morrigan went on, seeing the shift in his companion’s features. “He told me this was important, and that I was to give you
Similar Books
