Ivy shrugged. "Okay, I won't tell him."
Lacey came closer to the bed. Ivy saw Ella's injured paw being lifted up.
"Nasty."
"Lacey"-Ivy's voice shook a little-"can you talk to cats? Can you explain to Ella that I didn't know Gregory had a way of getting in? Could you tell her I would never have left her if I'd known, and that tomorrow I'll" "Who do you think I am," Lacey interrupted, "Dr. Doolittle? Snow White?
Do you see little birdies, landing on my hands?"
"I can't even see your hands," Ivy reminded her.
"I'm an angel, and I can no more talk cat than you can."
Ella began to purr.
"But I'll tell you what I can do," Lacey said in a softer voice. "What I'm gonna do. If it works," she added.
"It's kind of an experiment."
Ivy waited patiently.
"First, lie down," Lacey commanded. "Relax. Relax! No, wait. Get a candle."
Ivy rose and searched through her desk drawers, at last holding up an old Christmas candle that Philip had given her. "Where do you want it?"
"Somewhere where you can see it," replied Lacey.
Ivy set it on her bedside table and lit it. At the same time she saw Ella get up as if being prodded. The cat limped down to the other end of the bed.
"Now lie down with your feet at this end, next to Ella," Lacey said.
Ivy stretched out on her bed as directed, and the bedroom light clicked off.
"Look at the candle. Relax!" Lacey barked.
Ivy laughed a little. Lacey wasn't exactly a pro at making someone else feel comfortable. But after several minutes of staring at the warm and flickering flame, Ivy did begin to relax.
"Good. Don't fight me now," Lacey said in a quieter voice. "Keep your eyes on that candle. Let your thoughts, your mind, your spirit float toward it, leaving your body behind. Leave it with me so I can do my work."
Ivy watched the flame, watched how it shaped and reshaped itself. She imagined herself like a moth, flying toward the fire, circling it. Then she felt the sole of her foot growing hot. She felt as if a burning hand were wrapped around her foot, and she fought the reflex to pull away.
Watch the candle, watch the candle, she told herself as the heat became more and more intense. Just when she thought she couldn't take any more, the burning lessened. There was a cool touch, then a tingling feeling.
"Done."
Lacey's voice was so weak that Ivy had to strain to hear it. Even in the darkness, Ivy could barely see Lacey's shimmer now. She sat up quickly.
"Are you all right?"
Lacey didn't answer the question. "Turn on the light," she said, her voice as thin as thread.
Ivy got up to do so and, without thinking, stepped down hard on her injured foot. There was no pain, not even a tingling. She switched on the light, then sat down quickly and lifted up her foot. Her sole was smoother than the palm of her hand, smoother than the sole of her other foot, and without a trace of the cuts. Ella's paw was also healed.
"Yes! Oh, yes!" Lacey congratulated herself. "Lacey, you are good!" she said, but her voice still rasped like an old woman's, and her purple shimmer lay low to the floor.
"Lacey, what's happened to you?" Ivy asked. "Are I you okay?"
There was no answer.
"Talk to me," Ivy demanded.
"Tired."
"Tristan," Ivy called softly on the outside, but loudly on the inside. "Please come. Something's happened to Lacey. You have to help her, Tristan. Angels, help Lacey!"
"Just tired," murmured Lacey.
"You shouldn't have tried that. You did to much," Ivy said, frightened.
"I don't know how to help you. Tell me what to do."
"Go. Gregory's in Philip's room now. Go." Ivy didn't move.
"Take Ella," Lacey said weakly. "Let him see. It'll be fun."
"No. I'm not leaving you like this." "I said go! Make it worth my time."
"Stubborn angel," Ivy muttered. She picked up Ella and reluctantly started toward the door. As she passed through it she heard Lacey say softly, "You're all right, Ivy, you're all right."
"What did you say?" Ivy called back. But Lacey wouldn't repeat it.
Carrying Ella like a baby over her shoulder, Ivy walked into Philip's room. When Gregory saw her standing in the doorway, his eyes brightened.
He's hoping I'll scream like I'm crazy and accuse him, Ivy thought. She smiled at him and saw him glance down. His smile flattened when she padded in comfortably barefoot and without pain.
"Ella wants to say good night," she said. Ella was squirming wildly in her arms, wanting to get as far away as possible from Gregory.
Though Ivy felt bad about restraining Ella, she knew at she could score some points against Gregory, psyhological points that might keep her and Ella safe for a while. She purposely kept Ella's shaved flank next to her. The wounds were healed, but the skin was still re. Sitting on Philip's bed, Ivy drew her feet up next to her so Gregory could see her smooth, bare soles.
She saw the flicker, the momentary puzzlement in his eyes, and then the mask was back in place- the nice-big-brother mask he wore while putting Philip to bed. Of course, he could think of an explanation for her unscarred feet: she had known something was up, she had looked before she stepped out of the shower and avoided the glass.
"I want to give Ella a hug," Philip said.
He reached for her, but Ivy held on tightly to the wriggling cat.
"What's wrong with kitty?" Gregory asked.