Jennifer Armintrout - Queene Of Light

The healer’s sign was a configuration of glowing blue, bent into the shape of hand. In the center, more radiant tubes, pink and yellow, formed an open eye that flickered as they approached. The door was a flimsy, black woven screen stretched across a metal frame with a wooden slat across the center. The smell of pungent smoke drifted out. Keller pulled the door open and ushered Malachi inside.

The room was dark, lit only by more glowing tubes, these black, giving off an eerie blue light. The walls were painted in blue, yellow, pink, the colors glowing as if illuminated like the sign outside. A row of chairs lined one wall, stopping at the mouth of a short hallway. There were doors, all closed, painted with the same strange symbols that decorated the entryway. In the center of the main room sat a wooden platform. An elderly woman with short white hair, dressed in a loose white garment, sat in the center of a glowing circle, her eyes closed. She did not acknowledge them as they entered.

“What do we do now?” Malachi asked, his voice seemingly too large for the room. It rang off the painted stone walls and echoed in the high-ceilinged space.

“Would you just—” Keller shushed him and flapped a hand. In a much quieter tone, he said, “Take a seat. When she’s ready for us, then she’ll say something.”

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