Dark Summer

CHAPTER 21

Six months later

An island in the Caribbean

"I BELIEVE I'M JEALOUS, DEVON," Bridget said as she got off the helicopter at the pad a short distance from the white plantation house. "I just got back from Dublin, and the weather was less than balmy."

"That's Marrok's main complaint." Devon smiled as she gave Bridget a hug. "He says the weather is too perfect. When he talks about sun, he wants hot and searing to the bone."

"Where is he?"

"At the cottages. He's trying to negotiate a treaty between Janet and Sid. They don't agree on anything but Wiley. He said he'd meet us at the garden." She studied her. "You look very fit."

Bridget made a face. "It took forever to get back on my feet. Tell Marrok that his shi'i'go hocus-pocus is pretty slow going."

"What do you expect? You were at death's door. Maybe beyond it. Are you going to stay the night?"

Bridget shook her head. "No, the helicopter is supposed to pick me up in an hour. I have to get back to Dublin. Jordan wants me to go to Paris."

"So naturally you'll do it," Devon said.

"It's my job." She started across the stretch of lush green grass toward the house. "Just as Marrok was my job. How is he?"

"Starting to get bored and restless. It was fine while he was busy setting up his stockade here. But you know Marrok, he needs a challenge."

"How about you?"

"Between taking care of the dogs, starting a new practice in town, and dealing with Marrok, I'm not lacking in challenges."

Bridget studied her. "You don't seem too harried. I've never seen anyone look so mellow."

"No?" Devon smiled. "I'm not ready to settle down either. But this period has been good for both of us. Why did you come? Just to check on your family's investment?"

"Partly. Partly to close unfinished business." She gestured to the envelope she was carry ing. "And to give this to Marrok."

Devon gestured. "Well, there he is." Marrok was standing on the patio talking to Nick Gilroy and gesturing at the dogs running on the grounds a short distance away. "Marrok likes to alter the exercise regimes for the dogs every other day. It may be good for them, but it's driving Nick crazy."

"I can see Marrok has too much time on his hands," Bridget murmured. "I think we may have to save him from himself."

Marrok turned to face them as Nick strolled down the steps and moved toward the dogs. "Bridget." He took her hands. "You look well. Why are you here?"

"Nothing like being abrupt." Bridget's gaze was on the dogs. "That's quite a pack. Gracie is running with them. And there are several other dogs."

"Why not?" Marrok said. "We wanted to see if the shi'i'go dogs had the same effect on other dogs as they did on Sarah Logan's Monty."

"And have they?"

"Only time will tell, but Devon said their checkups show an astonishing increase in strength and vitality."

"I'm surprised Sarah let you bring Addie with you."

Marrok smiled. "I told her that we had to test her dogs sometime. If Monty and the others showed any sign of a decline when I took Addie away, I promised her I'd bring Addie back to her. Monty and Maggie have remained as strong as ever."

"Then the effect is permanent."

"Again, only time will tell. The outlook is leaning toward positive."

"Good heavens, you sound like a scientist."

"I feel like one." Marrok grimaced. "All I need is a clipboard and horn-rimmed glasses."

"Sit down," Devon said. "Have a glass of iced tea."

Bridget sat down at the table shaded by a turquoise umbrella. "Thanks. I'm thirsty, and I have a lot of talking to do."

Devon poured her a glass of tea. "Catching up? We've been doing most of the talking."

"What are Sarah and John Logan doing to legally protect the dogs?"

"Mostly exploratory work so far," Marrok said as he dropped into a chair. "John says that he has to have the right people in place before he even starts to leak any information about the shi'i'go."

"That's smart," Bridget said. "Particularly since he doesn't have all the information himself."

"He does." Marrok's gaze flew to her face. "I told Sarah and John everything. I couldn't expect cooperation unless I gave it."

"My, my, how you've changed," Bridget said. "Your influence, Devon?"

"More tea?" Devon asked.

"You're being diplomatic." Bridget grinned. "And I do think that it's your influence." She leaned back in her chair and gazed out at the mountains. "Or maybe it's this place. Everything seems… easy here. Soft breezes, sun, blue sky…"

"Why did you come?" Marrok interrupted. "I know you, Bridget. You never do anything without a reason."

"Maybe I want to hit you up for a job."

He shook his head. "I'd give it to you. But I don't think that's why you came."

"No." She made a face. "I came because Jordan said that it's up to me to tell you a story."

"What story?"

"One that you're probably not going to believe, not at first." She was silent. "So let's play the suppose game." She kept her eyes on the green mountains. "Suppose that your mother, Catrin Munoz, was a member of our family. Not close. She belonged to a distant but very important branch. She was shallow, unstable, and wild as a hawk, but other members of her immediate family were more responsible. When she came back to Madrid after deserting you, her brother, Rico, decided it would be wise to keep an eye on you."

"I'm already tired of your game," Marrok said harshly. "It's a lie. She left me, and there was no kindly uncle, Rico, watching over me."

"I never said Rico was kindly. He was only a cut above your mother in character. But he did know that there was danger in Catrin's casting her seed about indiscriminately. So he hired someone to keep an eye on you to make sure there was no fallout from Catrin's promiscuity. His orders were not to interfere unless you became a problem."

"A problem?" Devon echoed. "He didn't consider having his nephew being brought up by a dope addict a problem? What kind of scumbag was he?"

"I told you, not a nice guy," Bridget said. "He didn't care about Marrok as long as the kid didn't interfere with his lifestyle. What he didn't want was having the core family angry enough to cut him off from funds when he needed them."

"I could hardly have interfered with someone half a world away," Marrok said sarcastically. "Though if I'd known what an ass he was, I might have tried."

"Those were the reports Rico was getting about you, violent, erratic, unstable. Even as a child you were reckless and striking out at all comers. Nothing to upset Rico or make him uncomfortable. That wasn't what he was worried about." She paused. "But then he received another report. A local shaman, Paco, had taken you in and was training you. That disturbed him."

"You mean that for the first time in his life someone had been kind to Marrok?" Devon asked tartly.

"No, he was afraid Paco might have seen something in him. After all, Paco was a mystic. It was possible. Rico felt that he was out of his depth and sent a report to London to our people there telling them about Catrin's indiscretion. They took it very seriously and sent a man to Arizona, Edmund Gillem, to see Paco. He had to be warned. But your Paco had already seen the danger in you and still wanted to keep you with him. You'd been with him two years and still not shown any signs, so Edmund Gillem told Paco to call on him if there was a problem. Paco seemed to be handling you as well as anyone could, considering your temperament. We didn't hear from Paco again, but we still kept a close eye on you."

"This is bull, Bridget," Marrok said impatiently. "Peddle your story somewhere else. Paco would have told me about this so-called visit."

"Would he? He was terribly excited. Paco was curious; he loved to explore the unknown. You've always told me that. Now he had something interesting to experiment with. He probably told himself he had seen it in you all along."

"Seen what?"

Bridget smiled. "Haven't you guessed? Shi'i'go. Summer."

Devon inhaled sharply. "What are you talking about?"

"Catrin Munoz's bloodline had a history of producing individuals with a very rare talent. Not every generation, perhaps only one, or two in the four hundred years we've been documenting her family. None in the last two centuries."

"Shi'i'go," Devon repeated. "Get to the bottom line, Bridget."

"Healers. Extraordinarily powerful. And everyone close to them seemed to have glowing health and vitality. Probably one of the reasons the members of the family flourished and lived very long lives in a time when that wasn't common." Bridget took a sip of her tea. "Though the two men who possessed the talent both died violent deaths. The Munoz men were not the tamest offspring our family has produced. You wonder if they would still be around now if their lives had not been cut short."

"Wait a minute." Devon was trying to make sense of this. "You're saying that the dogs have no ability to heal?"

"No, the dogs can heal. That's been proved by those visits to the hospital. It just didn't start with a panacea created by Paco. There was never a panacea. It was always Marrok."

Marrok shook his head. "Paco had me feed the dogs the panacea."

"No panacea," Bridget said quietly. "You fed them, but you also petted them, you touched them, you lived with them. You gave them your strength. Just as they later gave it to those patients in the hospital. Shi'i'go."

"Bullshit."

"I didn't think you'd accept it easily. The transfer doesn't seem to happen with people. It must be because there's an inherent healing ability in dogs anyway. Some people call it psychological, but it does exist. Ask nurses and doctors in any hospital. The dogs are strong but not nearly as strong as you. It's diluted in them. Why else did Paco make you come with him when he took Ned to visit a dying patient? He knew that he'd need you. It was a gamble with the dogs but not with you. And when Lincoln sent you on the missions with Ned, weren't you near them, touching every patient? I think Paco must have first noticed your effect on the dogs. They weren't aging, they were growing in strength. Then he started experimenting." She looked him in the eyes. "It's true, Marrok."

"What you believe is truth. Paco told Danner it was the dogs." His hand clenched into a fist on the table. "He was being beaten to death, and he told him it was the dogs."

"To protect you. He loved you. So he sacrificed the dogs. But he loved the dogs, too, and wanted to make it right. He told you that you had to protect them, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"And you did, Marrok," she said softly. "All these years, you did. You put aside everything, you grew, you worked and became a very special human being that had nothing to do with shi'i'go." She got to her feet. "I've got to get back to the helicopter pad. It's almost time."

Marrok stood up. "I don't believe any of this, you know."

"You believe some of it. After it sinks in you'll believe more." She handed him the envelope. "It's the family tree of the Munoz family. I had it copied. I thought you might want it."

"Why didn't you tell him before?" Devon asked. "Why wait until now?"

"Do you know how much power a healer has? It's staggering. Misused, it could create chaos, sway the fate of countries as Lincoln was having you do. It would inspire worship or hatred depending on what side of the fence you are on. When Marrok was a boy, he hated the whole world. If he'd had power then, it would have been a disaster. Later, as he matured, it became better, but there was still that streak of bitterness and violence. He had to work his way through it." She started across the patio. "I think I hear the rotors of the helicopter. Are they close, Marrok?"

"Yes, five minutes to the south," he said absently. "And I don't like the idea of you and your precious family treating me as if I couldn't make decisions for myself."

"We just wanted to make sure they were the right decisions. You had a fondness for death and mayhem." She smiled. "And it's your family, too… cousin."

He thought about it. Then he smiled faintly. "As long as I can pick and choose. You wouldn't be too bad as a relation."

"Don't turn your back on Jordan and the others. You may need all the help you can get. Devon said she thought you needed a challenge. I just handed you a king-size one. The dogs may be safer because there was no panacea, but you're going to be faced with monumental decisions. You can't heal everyone, and there will be people who will hate you for not being able to do it."

He scowled. "If I even believe a tenth of what you're telling me."

"But you'll have to experiment, you'll have to find out what's truth and what's not. That's your nature." She started across the stretch of lawn, then stopped and turned around. "I've only run into one other healer, but if you need help, call me, and I'll put you in touch with him. I hear he wasn't any happier than you about discovering that talent." She smiled. "Good-bye. Next time I come, I promise it will be a social occasion." She turned and walked rapidly toward the descending helicopter.

"I'm… stunned," Devon said as she watched her. "It's plausible, but I'm still having to turn my thinking around."

"Don't be too quick. I haven't seen any proof."

And he didn't want it to be true, Devon thought. Who could blame him? The responsibility would be staggering, and there was still too much of the wild, reckless Marrok in him to accept it calmly.

Calm? No way. Not Marrok.

"And this may not be proof either. May I?" She took the envelope from him and opened it. She studied the paper and handed it to him. "Only a family tree as Bridget said. Very carefully documented for the Munoz branch of a Devanez family. Your name is on it."

His lips lifted in a crooked smile. "You mean the bad penny was actually acknowledged at last?"

"Acknowledged? If Bridget is right, you may well be the superstar."

"Disgusting." He grimaced. "I don't want to be a superstar. I want to be left alone."

"Then ignore everything Bridget told you." She turned and started walking toward where the dogs were playing. "Look how beautiful they are. Gracie's coat is shinier than I've ever seen it. She's very happy here."

"You're changing the subject."

"Yes. I'm going to start accepting search and rescue missions again next month. Bridget says Gracie gets upset on the missions. May I take Ned?"

"Of course. I may go with you."

She shook her head. "You'll be too busy." She stooped and patted Ned, who had run up to her. "Because you're not going to be able to ignore what Bridget said. You'll be reaching out, searching, experimenting, just as your Paco did. Bridget says it's your nature, but I think Paco gave it to you as a gift." She picked up a large twig and threw it with all her strength. Ned took off, and the other dogs raced after him. "Just as he gave you his dogs. He may have wanted you to save them, but he wanted them to help you, too. He wanted them to give you something he thought you needed."

Marrok watched the dogs running joyously, muscles flexing, tails pluming in the bright sunlight.

He took Devon's hand. "Shi'i'go? "

She nodded. "In the very best sense." Her grasp tightened on his. "Summer."