The Odd Job Page 12

  Chapter 12

  "Elder Bran, can you heal him?" Belinde asked, through choking sobs and tears.

  "To be honest, Adjustor Dagmar, I do not know," Bran said heavily. "The damage is great. He has a pound and a half of foreign matter embedded in him and he has lost much blood."

  "Take as much of mine as you need!" Belinde pleaded.

  "Aye!" boomed a voice behind Belinde. "I have plenty to spare. You'll have mine if you need it," Smith vowed over Belinde's head.

  "I would like to offer some of my own," Wellington added in support.

  "Thank you, all of you," Bran said, meeting their eyes as Miach cleaned and bound one wound after another. Miach, who had been summoned from the emerald estate to assist Bran, looked up at his fellow healer. "Your blood will not be compatible, Adjustor. You are not entirely human and your blood may actually kill him in his present state."

  Belinde broke down into a series of wracking sobs and was comforted by the massive arms of Goibhniu.

  "Bran," Aphrodite scolded over the head she cradled carefully in her lap, "take her blood and check it anyway.”

  Belinde stepped forward, rolling up her sleeve. Bran moved to a nearby cabinet for syringes and tubes, and suddenly everyone present was rolling up a sleeve. A croak from the opposite side of the room startled everyone.

  "You will test mine as well, Healer. I would be dead if not for this Guardian," Heimdallr stated wearily

  "You shut up and sleep, you big lout. You've given yer lot o' blood already this day," Smith barked.

  "Alright," Bran soothed, "this is a room for healing. I will test all of you except the Lady herself. Her strength is needed to hold the adjustor's life within his mortal shell." With that the room grew quiet and all human, god and demigod, lined up to give blood in hopes of saving a man they cared for. "You know this is forbidden?" Bran whispered to Thor as the thunder god rolled a sleeve back down.

  "I know well, Healer. I also know the blood won't help him but it does great service to the others as they watch me give it," Thor whispered back under his breath. At this Bran couldn't help but provide a rueful smile and clap his relative on the shoulder in solidarity.

  Soon the line before Bran was empty and those gathered were holding a cotton ball to their arms as they stood around the prone form of the Adjustor. Miach, who was still working diligently, produced a vial of salve that was generously applied to the area of Declan's face where he had just removed a hands length of flexible electrical conduit, embedded there by some unknown explosive force.

  Belinde had almost emptied her stomach at the sound of it pulling free and dropping into a metal bowl. Looking at poor Declan's ruined face and broken body tore savagely at her heart, but it also filled her with rage and bloodlust.

  "Smith," Belinde began, "I would like you to accompany me to the armory."

  "What? Now?" Smith asked, startled from his musings.

  "Please," Belinde asked as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

  "Welly," Smith said as he turned towards the slim Englishman, "fancy a walk with the lady?"

  "I believe I could do with a walk," Wellington said in agreement, holding out his arm formally to Belinde. The living vampire took his arm and kissed him lightly on the cheek as he led her out of the infirmary.

  "I'll catch you up in a moment," Smith called after Wellington and Belinde. Those who weren't directly needed began filing out and Miach returned to the emerald estate after cleaning and binding all of Declan’s wounds. Smith, however, had caught a glance from Bran and knew the healer wanted a private word.

  "What is it?" Smith asked.

  "I can't use the Adjustor's blood as I suspected, nor can I use Wellington's which is surprising. I can however use yours. If your blood is present, I can use some from Heimdallr also."

  Smith's eyes bulged in surprise. "Thank the Father for small mercies!" Smith said gratefully.

  "Smith,” Bran asked in a serious tone, “what of the pact?"

  "What of the pact?" Smith asked. "That boy is an Adjustor and he's proven that he is the Guardian as well." Smith gestured towards the unconscious form of Declan as he spoke. "No one of the blood can break the pact, agreed. But, surely, once we give our blood away, it no longer belongs to us." He glanced over at the snoring form of Heimdallr and snorted. "That lout isn't even family. He's a Titan and I was born after the pact out of wedlock. I'm half human,” he continued convincingly. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. “You weren't thinking of using Thor's blood, were you?" Smith asked with concern.

  "No, no. That would be a clear breach of the pact and would elevate the Adjustor to a God," he stopped briefly to shake his head. "Even using your blood, there may be side effects," Bran stated, concern evident upon his face.

  "Bah,” Smith said in dismissal, “so he may grow a bit. Who should find concern with that?"

  "Goibhniu, he already carries the Mantle of Adjustor and the shield of ‘The Guardian’ within him. If I add your blood and Heimdallr's blood, he may still become a god," Bran finished in a hushed voice. "

  “Then use my blood alone, or Heimdallr's" Smith offered.

  "I can't," Bran pleaded. "Heimdallr can recover from any wound. I need that blood to save Declan, but it must be mixed with yours or it will kill him." Smith looked at Bran in dismay.

  "Boys," Aphrodite said gently from her place at the Adjustor's head. The two men turned to her as she continued, "Don't think you can whisper in a corner and I won't hear you. I'm an older and higher god than either of you."

  Smith and Bran both sagged visibly. There was no way an elder goddess of the lady's standing would let them sneak around the pact. "Goibhniu, you were right when you said that Declan is already the Adjustor and the Guardian. I will not sit idly by while another good life is sacrificed in this battle." Tears threatened to spill over Aphrodite's lower eyelashes as she spoke, "We've all learned our lessons. We've learned to love, to trust, to hope and to honor. We've never had to learn bravery until now and we learned these things from mortals whose lives are frail and fleeting."

  The goddess held her head in fine regal manner as she continued. "Goibhniu, you make weapons at your forge but you are delicate of heart. You have never taken a life, not even in the hunt, yet this very day you fought a titan to the death. You did it out of love for your friend here." She paused to swallow a lump in her throat, not noticing the visible glow that was infusing her. Smith sniffed a big wet snort and cleared his throat gruffly. Bran shuffled his feet in obvious discomfort.

  "Even now, I have the strength to keep our friend alive because of diligent and unceasing prayers of thanks. Those prayers are from a young woman whose life was changed by Declan shortly after last night's ceremony," the goddess sniffed slightly and quickly composed herself. "Little brother, perform the procedure and save our friend. I will take full responsibility for any repercussions."

  Both Bran and Smith were shocked speechless for a moment. Neither could remember an elder ever sticking their neck out for a mortal.

  "Boys," the goddess said with a sigh, “we haven't held the pact for near a thousand years out of fear of reprisal. We follow the pact because it is right. Do you not believe in your hearts that helping our adjustor is right?"

  With that Bran and Smith practically tripped over each other as they finally sprang into action. Moments later, Bran was collecting the necessary blood from both Heimdallr and Goibhniu. Bran wasn't concerned about risk to Heimdallr. The giant guard hadn't lost much blood in battle, at least not in comparison to the amount that usually coursed through his veins. Heimdallr was still lying in a sickbed due to the massive blow to his head. That blow had only landed because one of the Sly's minions had distracted him with a stinging barrage of automatic weapon fire that left over a dozen itching, burning holes in his side.

  "Thank you Smith. You may join our friends in the armory. I will send for Llyr and Lugh to help with the transfusion," Bran said with the air of a seasoned doctor. Smith grunted and f
rowned in confusion. Bran chuckled and said, "I need them to trick Declan's body into believing this blood is already his." Smith nodded, actually understanding. Two metals mixed together must often be different temperatures when first poured or they wouldn't bond.

  Regardless, his duty called. Another adjustor was waiting in his armory and that was his area of expertise. As hard as he tried to remember, Smith could not bring to mind a single adjustor that had been female. Outfitting her with the right weapons was going to be a challenge and he loved such a challenge.