milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Ray did a long shift of guard duty today. He's away from it now, though, and ready to get in some proper lightsabre practice. Only thing is, it's dark and cold out back, so he's going to have to use one of the other rooms on the ground floor.

That'll happen after dinner, which tonight isn't much more than a sandwich and some soup. Might as well keep it light.

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Nynaeve clears her throat.

It is reasonably quiet.

"I would like to thank you again. Your information and advice has been . . . helpful, here."

Ray looks up, blinking; then he smiles. "You're welcome," he says. "It's always weird being somewhere completely new, for me, so I like to think that I can at least help other people in that situation from time to time. How're you doing?"

She frowns, then smooths it away.

"Matters have gone reasonably well, I suppose."

Her voice is only a little grudging.

"And you?"

"Going well enough, I guess, though not as well as I'd like." He glances towards the infirmary. "Someone who hurt a friend of mine is starting to pay the consequences, and I have half of what I need to cure that friend, so that's good. I'm getting a little tired of being stuck here on guard duty but there's not much I can do about that."

Nynaeve leans forward at Ray's use of the word 'cure'.

She's Yellow Ajah for a reason, after all.

"Cure? What--"

She pauses.

"What, if I may ask, is the difficulty? I am something of a Healer."

Ray smiles a bit. "It's the result of a magic spell of considerable power forcing a young man's evil impulses to the surface. The kid's been put in thrall to his own shadows and darkness. We've already tried working with someone who's a powerful psychic, but that didn't seem to be enough to do it. If it were at least physical I'd feel better about our chances."

Nynaeve might look a little put out. But only for a moment. Some things are more important.

"I am sorry to hear that."

She means it.

"The Shadow is a terrible thing."

This is accompanied by a twist of her Great Serpent ring.

Ray smiles tiredly, but it is a heartfelt smile. "It is," he says quietly. "I'm not used to having to deal with it this directly. In my world we get ghosts and monstrosities from time to time, but it's not the sort of thing that affects an individual this deeply, if you know what I mean."

"I do know. Direct interference, such as it is, is a bloody bother."

One hand twitches.

"I regret that I do not think I will be of use."

She really hates saying that.

"In this case."

"Thank you for the offer, though," Ray says. "If something more suited to your abilities happens, I'll let you know. If you want, I mean. There's almost always someone in a bad way around here, for one reason or another. This is the only bar I know of that has its own infirmary."

"Infirmary? And where is that? I--well. Healing is what I do. And I can always learn more."

Sometimes that very fact irritates her.

Sometimes it doesn't.

"Down that corridor over there," Ray says, pointing. "I just came from there. We have some magical healers and some mundane ones, but considering the number of patrons around here, they could probably always use some more. It's still a pretty new place. Have you met Hank McCoy yet? Tall, covered in blue fur? He's one of the doctors there."

"Blue . . . fur?"

She shakes her head briefly.

"Him I haven't met, no. Though I'll look for him, now. He's in charge?"

"I don't know who's in charge of the infirmary at the moment," Ray says. "But he's the easiest one to describe and recognize. There's also a girl named Nita Callahan who works in there- she's one of the magical healers. Patched me up very nicely after a demon attack."

"Demons. They are . . . common, here?"

She might look nervous, for a moment.

"The injury wasn't incurred here," Ray hastily assures. "It was in the world of one of the patrons, a young man named Andrew Wells. Andrew helped me save a city some time ago, so I went with him to repay that debt when one of his friends was in danger from sorcerers who were raising a demon army. A lot of us went, actually. I got wounded in the battle and the only reason I made it home was because Nita closed up the wounds and got me back on my feet."

"She sounds very skilled."

It is possible Nynaeve will be looking for Nita in the very near future.

"And you called her a girl?"

Ray leans over and rolls up his right pantleg. Some time ago, something with a double dental arcade- an outer row of long, sharp fangs and an inner row of horribly snaggled wrecks of teeth- attempted to bite off most of his lower leg, and left its mark in the form of scars. "She healed that," he says simply, and rolls the leg back down. "I don't think she's much more than fourteen, so chronologically, at least, she's a girl."

"Very nicely done."

Nynaeve sounds rather reluctantly impressed.

"I'd almost wish there were more like her."

Almost, but not quite.

Some of those Windfinder girls have made quite an impression. Ow.

Ray nods. "Like I said, they could always use more, as far as I know."

"Well. I thank you for that information, too. And I--I might be able to offer my services, such as they are."

She looks a little more relaxed now, too. Comfort zones are funny things.

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