“Understood.” Jeong put a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Helena. Everything will be fine.”
I wished I knew him well enough to judge whether he was offering me empty assurances. Instead, I said, “Thanks.”
I was recovered enough to walk under my own power to the little white van, where I sat in the back seat while Judy rode shotgun. The last thing I saw before Dave pulled away from the curb was the three scientists carrying Viv’s unconscious body to the blue van. That made me cry when nothing else had.
We rode to the Gunther Node in silence. I tried once to open my left fist and felt only as if someone had closed their much bigger hand around mine. The rest of me felt as numb as my hand, but with an emotional deadness rather than a physical one. Now that the immediate terror had worn off, my mind circled around and around might-have-beens. If I had refused Wallach access to the store’s node. If I’d pushed him to listen to the oracle’s warnings. If I’d made Viv stop working for him. If I’d—the possibilities were endless, and all of them felt like my fault. I’d known there was danger, and I hadn’t acted decisively.
The gardenia scent of the Gunther Node should have been calming, but today it made me feel ill. I followed Dave down the passage to Green 1 and waited, still feeling numb, while he spoke to the bone magi at the desk. I caught them staring at me and almost turned my back on them. I didn’t need to feel like a freak on top of everything else. Judy eyed me, but said nothing.
Finally, Dave and one of the bone magi came to my side. “This is Veronica,” he said, indicating the woman in maroon scrubs. She looked familiar. “She’s going to show you to your room, and in a few minutes they’ll do an initial analysis. It’s going to be fine.”
I nodded and let Veronica lead me back down the hall to one of the little rooms with the curtained windows. Judy sat in a chair opposite the bed while I kicked off my shoes and lay back. Veronica looked like she wanted to shoo Judy away, but was afraid to. “You don’t need to undress or anything,” Veronica said. “Someone will be in shortly.” She pulled the curtain across the window and left.
“I can go if you want me to,” Judy said. “But I don’t think you ought to be alone.”
“I’m worried about Viv. Maybe you should find her.”
“Those scientists told me she would be in isolation while they treat her.” Judy clasped her hands on her knee. “I’m worried about her too.”
The door opened. A young, dark-skinned woman with her black hair pulled back from her face in a soft pouf entered, followed by Jeong. I recognized her; she was Wallach’s assistant, or something, and they resembled each other strongly. “Ruby Wallach,” she said, offering me her hand. “You tried to save my grandfather.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s a terrible loss.”
Ruby nodded. “Let’s take a look at your hand.”
I hesitated. “Are you sure…I mean, you must be grieving…”
“I am,” Ruby said, “but he would want me to honor his memory by carrying on his work. And you were injured trying to save his life.”
I extended my left hand, still not looking at it. I couldn’t feel her touching me, but I did feel the rotation of my wrist as she turned it one way and the other.
“You’re right, Rick,” she said. “All the bones are there. I think we can reconstruct the hand.” She released me, and I lowered my hand out of my line of sight. “Helena,” she said, “I don’t want to lie to you. This is an extremely complicated magical procedure, and my grandfather was the expert. But with a combination of surgery and magic, I think we stand a good chance of success.”
I shuddered. Surgery. “I want you to try. But what happens if you fail? I mean, could you make it worse?”
Ruby considered the question. “That would depend on what you thought of as ‘worse.’ You might end up with a partially functional hand, or only three fingers. To me, even partially functional is better than what you have now. But you may disagree.”
“No, I’d rather have some fingers than none.” I took in a deep breath. “How soon can you do it?”
“They’re prepping an operating room right now. You will need to change into a hospital gown because it’s a surgical procedure.” Ruby opened a cabinet and pulled out a pile of cloth. “Take everything off and put this on so the ties are on the side. Then we’ll come back for you.”
“I’ll go,” Judy said. “Is there a waiting room?”
“I’ll show you,” Jeong said. “Good luck, Helena.”
Judy hugged me. “I’ll tell Malcolm everything when he gets here.”
I’d almost forgotten Lucia had called Malcolm, and the thought that I probably wouldn’t see him before the procedure made my chest ache. “Thanks.”
When everyone was gone, I undressed awkwardly, one-handed, and put on the gown. It was already tied, for which I was grateful because I couldn’t have done that myself, but it was loose enough to slip over my head regardless. I’d never had an operation before and was surprised at how comfortable the hospital gown was. All those movies with people walking around with their butts hanging out…either they’d been playing for laughs, or hospitals had gotten fed up with being made fun of and had changed their styles. I sat on the edge of the bed and wished I had slippers. My feet were cold despite the room being the same comfortable temperature all of the Gunther Node was.
In a few minutes, someone knocked on the door and entered without waiting for me to respond. The man was pushing a wheelchair and had a pleasant smile. “Ms. Campbell, I’m your ride,” he said. “I know, you’re not an invalid, but the floors are cold and hard and we don’t want you uncomfortable.”
I felt plenty uncomfortable anyway, but decided a wheelchair was better than truly being an invalid and having to go on one of those wheeled beds. The nurse—I assumed that’s what he was—tucked a soft blanket over my lap and legs and wheeled me out of the room. I hid my malformed hand under a fold of the blanket and pretended no one was staring at me.
He pushed me down the corridor to Green 1 and then beyond it to a wide door that swung open without being touched as we approached. Beyond lay another corridor, more brightly lit than the main one and with a lower ceiling. It looked like any of the hospitals I’d ever been in and smelled faintly of antiseptic and gardenias. The nurse pushed my chair halfway down the hall and through a door on the left which also swung open without him touching it. If he was doing it with magic, that was quite the useful skill.
The new room, larger than the one where I’d changed, was just as brightly lit as the hall, but curtains hanging from a rail in the ceiling made it look dimmer even though the curtains were currently drawn back. When they were pulled out, they would surround the operating table at the center of the room, shrouding its occupant and her surgeons. I realized I was shaking and without thinking clasped my hands together—or, rather, put my good hand over the injured one. I wished I hadn’t. It felt so wrong, lumpy and too-smooth and more like a leather sack of marbles than a clenched fist. I snatched my hand away and closed it on the armrest, which was cold and angular but at least felt normal.