I can’t answer. The Rover races past designer stores until we get to a modern glass building with a green cross floating above it. Thank Gods.
The receptionist looks up, takes in the cut of my suit, and switches on a welcoming smile. It gets wider when I produce my black Bank of Havengard credit card, though it falters when she sees the name on it.
“Oh, er, Mr. Drakeward. I’ll get the healer to see you immediately, this way.”
Each step is agony, the vibrations of my footfalls reverberating through my agonized skull. I’m led into a clean white room and, almost blindly, sink into the nearest armchair.
“Mr. Drakeward?”
I peel open a lid to see a middle-aged female healer hovering over me. “Head. Pain.” I grunt.
“Ah, I see. Please allow me.” She sets to work, first pulling a vial from a drawer and releasing the contents under my nose. “Inhale please…”
I do as she commands, but the pounding continues.
Next, she starts doing the real healer shit that involves incantations and casting. The air moves around my scalp, and an icy chill settles into the room.
“Hmm,” she murmurs after a couple of minutes. “Interesting.”
I don’t know what her next move is, but the room gets even colder, and every inch of my skin is goose-fleshed. “I’m going to touch you now,” she tells me, as her fingers touch my brow. “Oh!”
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure, a blockage. I’ll try to work around it. Definitely an obstruction of the aura. Take a deep breath.” I wince as she trails her fingers across my forehead.
Finally, the thumping headache begins to ease. Not completely, but enough to be bearable. “That’s all I can attain today, Mr. Drakeward. I’m quite unfamiliar with the pattern of your pain. Er, have you been traveling abroad?”
“Yes.” I guess one could say I’ve been out of the country.
“Then I’d recommend a rare ailments specialist,” she tells me, writing down a name and number and passing me the details. “Your, er, psychic congestion should really be looked at.”
Opening and shutting a cabinet, she then hands me another small vial. “Inhale this in two hours. It will prolong the effects of the healing.”
I can move without agony now, but it’s still rough.
After settling up, Dono and Wes escort me out. “Dude, are you better? You still look seriously messed up.”
“I’m OK,” I tell Donovan as he peers at my face.
The truth is, I’m absolutely wiped. It’s hard to keep my eyes open.
“Can you remember what happened?” he asks.
“Not really,” I tell him. “It’s a blur, I’m hoping it’ll come back soon. I have this feeling there’s something I really need to remember.”
“What do you mean?”
I don't get the chance to answer. Darkness takes me before I can speak.
24
“Thanks for cutting with me, babes,” I say, as Willow hands around hot chocolates from her fancy machine. "I've something big to tell you."
I bite my lip as anxiety swirls in my stomach.
“Waiting with bated breath,” Duncan says.
That’s all very well, but I don’t know where to begin.
