“I may go home now, Holly,” Jack’s former mentor said. “I feel very injured.”
Holly latched onto both of his arms. “Why are you here all of a sudden?”
He opened his mouth, but Holly overrode him. “Never mind. Jack needs you. There’s something wrong with him.”
“I know, but—“
“Just shut up until we get there, okay?” Holly dragged him to the stairs. “He passed out screaming about midnight—“
“Holly—“
“—and then he’s been in this coma thing the rest of the time.”
“Holly, I—“
“None of the quacks in this place can do anything for him, but I think you can.”
“Holly, I know I can’t!” Hermes burst out.
Holly spun to face him, stopping right outside Jack’s hospital room. “What?”
Hermes closed his eyes. “I know what’s wrong with him.”
Holly stared. “...You do? Why... why didn’t you... stop us or come with us or at least tell us? Jack’s half-dead in there!”
“I’m sorry!” Hermes clenched his fists, a pained expression flashing over his face. “I’m an idiot, all right? I’ll hate myself for the rest of my life, I’m sure. And seeing as how I’m immortal, that’ll be a while.” He paused, opening his eyes. “Will you hear me out now?”
Holly seethed, but tried to keep the anger inside. “Speak.”
Hermes nodded to the door. “Is that his?” he asked more quietly.
“Yeah.” She pushed it open and padded a step inside. Bianca was still there, sitting on the edge of the bed. One hand lay across Jack’s chest. Holly stiffened and halted where she was.
“You can’t trust her, Jack,” the pixie was whispering. “She’s... she’s out for your soul. I know she did this to you. You have to stop trusting her. She doesn’t really love you. I’m the one that loves you, Jack. Why can’t you see...”
Holly felt her eyes widen.
“Holly?” Hermes said, nudging her arm.
Bianca was up in a flash, staring at them, her cheeks red. A line of dampness sparkled down the side of her face, and she swatted at it. “What are you doing?” she hissed at Holly.
Holly tried to get rid of the tenseness in her shoulders, but it was futile. “I’m out for his soul?” she repeated, moving closer. “You lying—“
“Dragging him into wars!” Bianca shouted, voice cracking. “He was fine before you came back from the Metalworker!”
Holly flinched away, feeling the words like the flaming whip across her face. “It wasn’t my fault,” she tried to say, but the words caught in her throat; they came out like a frog’s croak.
Hermes stepped between them. “You’re disturbing Jack’s dreams,” he said firmly. “So shut up, the two of you.” He turned to Bianca. “I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are, but it’s the truth.” With that he moved closer to the hospital bed, where Jack clung to the mattress as if it were a safety ring.
Holly stared at the three of them, one at a time. Then she scampered to Hermes’s side.
“Who is this?” Bianca asked stuffily, standing back.
“Hermes,” Holly said. The immortal in question sat by Jack and took his pulse.
Bianca huffed. “I know that. What I don’t know is why he’s here.”
“I dunno.” Holly focused on Hermes’s rather pessimistic expression. “He just said he knows what’s wrong with Jack.”
“How?” The question was now directed at Hermes.
Hermes sighed, let Jack’s wrist drop, and turned to face Bianca. “As you know, Jack and Miss Holly here were arrested by the Agency a thousand years ago, for—“
“Mass murder,” Bianca said.
Holly stiffened.
Hermes cut his eyes to Holly, then back at Jack. “Right. Well, the reason Jack hadn’t been caught earlier is because he was extremely... extremely...”
“Slippery,” Holly supplied.
“Slippery. We got him in an ambush at a temple in Stonne. Apollo and Isis – the so-called deities of prophecy and magic, respectively – caught him. He thought he’d get away. But we...” He paused, licking his lips and not meeting either of the women’s eyes. “The Agency and the Prophetic Board had agreed earlier to put a mark on him.”
Bianca’s eyebrows met. “A mark?”
Holly swallowed. “Why do I think that that’s not as tame as it sounds?”
Hermes gripped the edge of Jack’s bed. “It was a curse, all right?” he said, leaning forward. “It was a curse. I was in on that decision. I agreed that we had to put the... the mark on Jack. It would make the memories of his wars come back, the soldiers. Make his mind conjure up fake memories of soldiers that he had killed. Nightmares, for all intents and purposes.”
Holly felt a warm shiver run through her body. “You... you cursed him?” she whispered.
“It was our only way out, Holly,” Hermes said, finally meeting her gaze. “He was out of control. He had half of Sector Country killed.”
“That was her fault, not his,” Bianca said, snapping a finger in Holly’s direction.
Holly jumped up. “It was not! You’re a slandering—“
“Ladies,” Hermes said, waving his hands. “This is not the time or place.”
“Right,” Holly said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “Because Jack’s in a curse-induced coma enduring visions of dead soldiers!”
“I’m sorry.” Hermes looked at the wall. “But he was asking for it.”
“Asking to wake up screaming one random day?”
“It was scheduled to start in one thousand years,” Hermes said. “We thought that would be when he got out of prison.”
“And you were right.” Holly almost stamped her foot. “But did you ever think about the fact that maybe prison was enough? Jack’s not even sane anymore, Hermes! He acts normal, but I see it in his eyes – he’s not all here. You know how I know that, Hermes? You know? Because I’m not sane either. I’m as crazy as the Mad Hatter!” She grabbed his shoulders and gave him a shake. “You took away both our minds. Maybe it was the Agency and the Prophetic Board’s decision, but you were our ally. You let them take our sanity away.”
Hermes stared at her, crystal blue eyes wide and expressionless. Then he stood, pried her fingers from his tunic sleeves, and went to the door.
“He should wake up about midnight,” he said over his shoulder. “Contact me about his condition.” And he left.
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