An Immortal Descent

I sighed as power warmed my palms. Soft snores came from the bench, and I gave my head a quick shake to stay focused on Mrs. Gibbon’s joints rather than my own weariness.

 

Minutes passed into hours. One by one, the more daring and desperate sipped from Calhoun’s bottle and then stepped onto the crate. Each time I did my utmost to conserve Brigid’s fire, while silently thanking Justine for insisting that I drink my fill from the spring yesterday.

 

By the time the last pair of hands poked through the curtain, I had cured scores of illnesses, including chronic headaches, one dropsy, three more rheumatism, clotted arteries, the dry gripes, heartburn, baldness, ingrown toenails, rotten teeth, half a dozen cases of warts and boils, and the common cold. Though there was little to be done for one girl’s broken heart, I mended the numerous eruptions on her face and did my best to send her off with thoughts of finding a new beau.

 

Ailish woke once during that time, grumbling something about nature’s call before rolling to her other side for more sleep. Not until the last coins had been pocketed, and Calhoun took his seat on the driver’s box did she wake for good.

 

“Ouch!” she cried when her head smacked into the wall from the caravan’s sudden lurch forward.

 

Already braced, I reached toward the curved ceiling to stretch the soreness from my back.

 

Ailish sat up and mimicked my movement. “How’d you do?” she asked, half yawning the words.

 

The horses picked up speed, and the bottles started a low rattle on the shelves.

 

“He squeezed more than ten pounds out of those people.”

 

She whistled under her breath. “Not bad for the first go. Calhoun never dared ask so much when I be on the other side of the curtain.” Her voice held an edge close to resentment.

 

Well, let’s see. Perhaps because you’re descended from Cailleach and make people ill rather than heal them... I pushed the words aside, seeing no point in stating the obvious.

 

“Where is he taking us now?” I asked.

 

“Me best guess be Waterford. It’s a thriving port town and will bring in a hundred times what we made in Dunmore today. It’s also close to...” She stopped talking, as though catching herself just in time.

 

“Close to what?” I pressed.

 

“None o’ your concern.” She crossed her arms and looked away, a stubborn tilt to her chin.

 

I had my suspicions, but decided to take a different approach to keep her talking. While healing the villagers, I’d realized the best chance of escape hinged on convincing Ailish that she’d be better off without me. In addition to our being mortal enemies, she had other reasons to wish me gone as my sudden appearance had led to her prompt expulsion from Calhoun’s show and what seemed an unwanted marriage. Certainly, with a little prodding, she would see the wisdom of parting ways.

 

“Tell me,” I said, “what is your share of Calhoun’s takings?”

 

This got her attention. She looked back at me, a sullen expression clouding her face. “A shilling from time to time.”

 

“Is that all? I’d think as half of the business, you’d get a higher percentage.”

 

She shrugged one shoulder. “Calhoun’s kept me fed and clothed since me da’s death, so I’ve never expected anything more.”

 

He’d also kept her in bruises from what I could tell. Releasing a long breath, I let my gaze drift along the walls, purposefully looking everywhere but at her. “In the rowboat he mentioned a lad named Paddy.”

 

“What of it?” she asked, the few words sounding more like a threat than a question.

 

“Nothing. I just wondered who he is.”

 

She considered the question for a moment. “Calhoun’s son.”

 

I should have guessed. “Does he live near Waterford?”

 

“Maybe. Why do you want to know?”

 

It was my turn to shrug. “Just that Calhoun said something about a particular fancy the lad has for you.” I returned my gaze to her. “From the boat, I gathered you’re to be married.”

 

The sullenness turned to a scowl. “Paddy can take his fancy to the devil,” Ailish muttered. “I’ll never marry that stupid bogger.”

 

“It wasn’t my impression you had a choice.” I watched her closely, ready to push the point further. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe he said something about not needing your particular skills for a while and that Paddy could have you once you returned home.”

 

She glowered at me. “And I said I won’t be having him.”

 

The bruises on her face seemed to stand out even more, and I made a point of staring at each one. “How many beatings will it take before you finally consent?”

 

“Don’t be worrying yourself for me sake. I can take care o’ Calhoun and Paddy.”

 

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