“Keep your hands clear, Mr. Crane,” Dr. Gold said. “Here it comes.”
It was, simply, healing. Down from her shoulder, the flesh knitted and mended as Crane watched with numb acceptance, the tears and bites repairing themselves. Leo’s sick pallor changed to a healthier pink, her breathing became steady and gentle, and finally Dr. Gold lifted his hands from her head and looked down at unmarked skin, with only the slightest fading lines to show where the horrible tears had been.
“Tsaena,” Crane whispered. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“Don’t thank him,” Esther said. “It’s not his power.”
The doctor looked up, eyes very bright. “But I can use it. Oh, I can use it. Mrs. Henville’s cancer. Lucy Gillett’s consumption—”
“No, no, no, no.” Esther’s voice was harsh. “Stop this.”
“But look at what I can do. Think who I can heal. So many people.” His face was alight with wild wonder and greed.
“Stop this, Danny. Stop it now.”
“Don’t. I don’t want it to stop.”
“Stop it!”
Stephen jerked his hand violently away from Crane’s, and the world snapped back to normality with a disorienting jolt, like the sensation of falling in a dream. Dr. Gold gave a cry of pain and rage, and reached a hand towards Crane, but Esther was right in his face now, talking urgently. Stephen span away and stood, facing the wall. Crane looked down at Leonora, unmarked and peaceful, at his own hand that showed no trace of a wound, at his lover’s tense, hunched shoulders, then over at the Golds. Dr. Gold was sitting on a stool at the head of the couch now, face in his hands, Esther holding him with angry care.
As the power drained out of the room, the silence grew.
“So,” Esther said finally. “Blood magic.”
“It wasn’t—” began Stephen, without looking round.
“You used his blood. You’ve been using his blood for months.”
“Twice. I’ve done it twice. And it wasn’t—”
“Don’t lie to me.” Esther’s voice cut like a whip. “I’ve seen you riding this. What are you doing, cutting him? Drinking it?” Her tone was thick with anger and contempt.
“I haven’t done anything like that.” Stephen spoke flatly. His voice sounded hopeless. “That was the second time. If you don’t believe me—”
“No, I don’t believe you!” Esther screamed. “I saw you. That’s the power you’ve been drawing on for months and I stood up for you in front of the Council and told them, no, Stephen Day is not turning warlock, and now this—blood magic right in front of me, and you don’t even have the spine to look me in the face and admit it, you cowardly little—”
“Mrs. Gold!” roared Crane, in a voice trained by ten years on a trading floor. It rang off the walls, jolted Dr. Gold into looking up, and momentarily silenced Esther.
“Mrs. Gold,” Crane repeated, with slightly less volume. “Mr. Day told you the absolute truth. That was the second time he’s used my blood in that way, and the first time was to save my life. This business is none of his choosing or his seeking, it’s my fault if it’s anyone’s, and if you need to shout at someone, Mrs. Gold, then you can shout at me and we’ll see who shouts loudest.”
“I don’t want to shout,” Esther said through her teeth, addressing the words to Stephen. “I want an explanation. You’re telling me it’s not blood magic. Very well, let’s say that’s true. Then how the devil have you been riding that power for months? If you’ve not been using blood magic, what’s the source?”
Stephen turned then. He was chalk white. “It’s, um—it is a transference, but the blood is purely catalytic. You can see that. If I’d stripped that power out of him, he’d be a heap of dust.”
“That’s true, Esther,” said Dr. Gold wearily. “I’d have noticed.”
“A catalyst. And his blood has been a catalyst for the last few months because—?”
“It hasn’t. Well, not, not precisely. It, um, I—”
Esther folded her arms. Her face was disbelieving, and disgusted.
“Look.” Stephen shut his eyes. “It’s, um…well, it is physical, only not blood, but it happens when, when we—” His voice dried up, and he flung a desperate look at Crane, who took two strides forward at that mute appeal, unclenching his fists from the white-knuckled nail-in-palm position that he had used to make himself keep silent, and put both hands possessively on Stephen’s slender, shaking shoulders.
“Oh,” said Dr. Gold.