Godspeed

Chapter 4

“Has she spoken?” Quinn asked, tossing both of his coats aside and beginning to roll up his sleeves. He proceeded to a stand in the corner containing a basin and pitcher of water and commenced washing his hands.

“A few words, here and there, with much effort,” Schuyler replied, watching Quinn’s every move with unwavering attention.

“Where did she come from?”

“She would not say.”

“Hmm,” Quinn grumbled. “And you’ve left her in her soaking clothes? Have you gone mad?”

“What do you suppose I put her in? One of my dressing gowns?”

“Better than letting her shiver on so.” The doctor shook his head. “You expect me to believe you don’t have something suitable tucked away in this flying circus you call your existence?”

I did not marvel that they spoke of me as if I was not present. It was hardly as though it was the first time it had happened in my life, only the first time for this particular pair of gentlemen, and it would set precedent.

“Where did you find her?”

“Not far away.”

“Could you be any less precise?”

Schuyler emitted a low growl. “Does it truly matter?”

“With so little to go on, every detail matters.”

Schuyler’s lips pursed and froze into a distinct, if only momentary, pout. He folded his arms and shifted his weight from boot to boot. “Up the block, about three doors down. Near the corner where Tower Place meets Eternity Court.” Schuyler seemed to shiver himself now with the shock of a new and haunting thought. “So near the cemetery…”

Instead of thanking him for the elaboration, the doctor continued his rapid-fire questioning. “Has she remained conscious?”

“Since I revived her, yes.”

“One small victory.”

Schuyler frowned again. “You’re welcome.”

Quinn opened up a small leather bag he’d brought with him and began rifling through the contents. “She has a pallor that concerns me.” He stopped speaking and withdrew a listening scope from the bag. He placed the earpieces and then moved toward me, without hesitation pressing the cold metal end to my chest, just above the bodice of my dress. I startled, not just from the shock of the chill but more so from his close proximity.

“Breathe steadily, if you can, girl,” he instructed. “Deep breaths.”

I struggled to draw in air and the pain was excruciating. I began to cough. He pulled the scope away and waited for the fit to subside.

“Try again.”

As I did so, he moved his scope around my chest, closing his eyes as he listened. When he was satisfied, he reached out and placed his hand against my back to lean me forward. I felt the still cold metal press behind me as he continued to listen.

“Her issues are definitely cardiac in nature,” he said, turning back toward the man who had rescued me from the world beyond his door, and again speaking as if I could not hear.

“Are you certain?”

The doctor glared, insulted by the very question.

“I’m sorry,” Schuyler said, and brushed an unsteady hand back through his artfully contrived, shining mop of hair. “I know this is your area of…”