Christopher Stasheff - The Warlock Unlocked

Then Rod leaped in, shouting, “ ‘Oh ye dry bones, now hear the word of the Lord!… I heard a noise; it was a rattling as the bones came together…” and lunging full-out for Redcap’s belly. The sword shot into the monster’s smock with a CLANK! that shocked through Rod’s arm and into his body. The blasted critter was made of rock!

Redcap brayed laughter and swatted out at Rod backhanded. Pain flared through Rod’s side, and the cliff and tower tumbled past him. Then, with a crack that exploded through him, he stopped, and got a close-up view of a rock wall sliding upward past him. He realized he was sliding down the cliff face and turned, frantically, as he jolted to a stop on the ledge. He was just in time to see two small figures appear right next to Redcap, inside his guard, and start chopping at his legs with small swords. “Boys, no!” he tried to yell, “Get back to your mother!” but it came out more like a chorus from a frog-pond. He could scarcely hear it himself, anyway; Redcap was roaring loudly as he reached down toward the mites…

A boulder slammed into the back of his head.

Redcap jolted forward, and tripped over Magnus, went sprawling. Small rocks bombarded him; then a boulder crashed down, just as he was getting up to his hands and knees. It crashed into his back, flattening him again.

Magnus and Geoffrey ran to finish him off.

Panic surged as Rod scrambled to his feet, lashing over him like a coating of fire. He had to get his boys out of there! He stumbled forward as Redcap heaved mightily, shaking the rock off his back, and rolled to his feet just in time for the boys to carom off his legs. He laughed wickedly, and bent toward them, then straightened suddenly and reached up to catch a boulder. He swung around following its inertia, and hurled it back up toward the mountaintop.

The bastard! If he’d hit Gwen or Cordelia… Boiling rage surged up in Rod, seeming almost to come from somewhere outside himself, flaming hatred at a monster who dared injure his child! He slammed into the back of Redcap’s knees, and pain howled through his shoulder; then a small mountain crashed down on his back. Dimly, he heard Magnus howl, and fought his head up just in time to see Father Al, on hands and knees, reach out toward Redcap, who lay fallen backward across Rod. The stone was in the priest’s hand; it touched the monster’s forehead. Redcap howled, his body bucking in agony—

And disappeared.

Rod stared, not believing.

Then the whole scene turned dim; stars shot through it, a cascade of stars, leaving darkness in their wake…

“…three broken ribs. That nosebleed is stopped? Then the flow’s from his mouth.”

“Oh, Father! His lung…?”

“Pierced? Could…”

The sound faded out, then faded in again. “…shoulder’s broken, and the collarbone. How…” Roaring came up like the surf, then faded. “…on his feet again?”

“His back is broke?”

“No, but I think there’re cracked vertebrae.”

Rod felt awfully sorry for the poor slob they were talking about. Who, he wondered?

Then an inspiration hit: Look. Just open the eyes, take a look.

Who was that, crying in the background?

Trouble was, there was this sandbag on each eyelid. And pain, that blasted pain, all through him! But he could do it; he’d done tougher things. He just fought a giant, hadn’t he? A five-foot giant…

“Please, Magnus, staunch thy tears, and comfort thy sister and brother! Elidor, canst not help with Geoffrey? I must work!”

Agony seared through his shoulder. His eyes snapped open, and he bawled like a dogie who’d bumped a branding iron.

A lovely face hovered over him, framed with flaming hair. “He wakes! Husband! Dost hear me?”

Reason returned for an afterthought: Gwen was trying to mend his shoulder telekinetically. “Stop… please… Pain…”

“It will take time.” She nodded, tense-lipped. “But it must be done. Oh, Rod! So many wounds…”

“It won’t work; there’re too many, and it’ll take too long.” Father Al’s face slid into view as Gwen’s slid out. “High Warlock! Hear me! Wish, as you’ve never wished before! Wish, with all your might, all your being, for your body to be whole again, completely mended, as it was before you ever were wounded!”

“I do,” Rod croaked. Now that the priest mentioned it, he did! Oh, how he wished! If anything could stop this agony, let it happen! He wished, fervently, for total health, for an unmarked body, for the wounds to go away, and never come back…!

And the helping spirit was there again, sliding inside, up, and all through him, kindly, reassuring, healing, absorbing the hurt…

Then it was gone—and so was the pain.

Rod stared, unbelieving.

Then he lifted his head, slowly, and looked down at his body. He was covered with blood, and his clothing was torn to rags—but the blood was still, there was nothing new running. And he felt well. In fact, he felt wonderful.

“Uh… Gwen…”

“Aye, husband.” She was there, her hand cradling his head.

“Just to be on the safe side, I’d better not move. Check the shoulder, will you?”

He felt her fingers probing—rather pleasant sensation, really. In fact, more than pleasant…

“ ‘Tis whole, Rod.” There was wonder in her voice.

He relaxed with a sigh, letting his head fall back. “Thank Heaven for that! Was there anything else wrong?”

“Quite a bit,” Father Al admitted.

The children had hushed.

“Check it out, would you? I’d hate to move if I’m going to start hurting again.”

“I will, husband.” He felt her fingers probing his side, his collarbone, his nose, rolling him a little to test his back.

“Thou’rt whole, husband.” The wonder gave way to rejoicing. “Oh, thou’rt healed!”

“Well, then, let’s get back into action.” He sat up and gathered her in. She clung to him as though he were a rock in the rapids, sobbing. “There, now—there, love,” he murmured. “I’m okay now. There, be a good girl, don’t cry, we’ll go find a haystack as soon as the kids’re asleep, and I’ll prove it.”

She smiled up at him, blinking through her tears. “Well, if I’d any doubts, they’re resolved. Thou art healed.”

“Papa!” shrieked three jubilant voices, and the kids piled onto him.

He just barely managed to remain upright, patting and hugging. “There, now, children, don’t worry. Papa had a bad time, but he’s clear now… Gwen, watch Elidor, would you? We don’t want to lose him again… No, now, there, I’m all right!”

“Aye,” Gwen breathed, eyes glowing. “Father Al hath cured him.”

“No— he did,” the priest insisted. “I just told him what to do.”

Rod stilled.

Then he cleared the children gently out of his line of sight.

“You mean I wrought that miracle cure?”

“Well…” Father Al spread his hands. “We’d already established that what you wished, happened…”

“Yes, we had,” Rod agreed. “Ready to try a hypothesis yet, Father?”

“No-o-o-o,” the priest pursed his lips. “But I am getting closer…”

“You and my robot,” Rod sighed, getting to his feet. “He never would state a hypothesis until it was established fact. Hey, I don’t even feel any of the aches from those faery pinches last night!”

“Interesting,” Father Al breathed. “Have any old scars?”

“Hm—that’s a thought.” Rod glanced at Gwen. “We’ll have to check that tonight, dear.”

She blushed, and explained to the priest, “Some of them are where he cannot see them.”

“I always did like a good Christian marriage,” Father Al agreed. “Well! If we’ve picked up all the pieces, can we get back to the chapel? I have an altar stone to return.”