Life After Death

Juliet/Corryn: work work work

{Juliet}

We met at Lancelot's place because it was quieter than Vercyne, and because Mirael made the best cinnamon rolls. Mirael knew we were coming, and we all sat for an early breakfast. Jave, Lancelot's youngest, made it to the table before we began eating.

"I smelled the cinnamon," he accused. "You were going to eat all the cinnamon rolls without me."

"I would have saved you one," Mirael told her son. "If you're going to eat with us, sit down. They are going to be leaving soon."

She pulled another plate from the cabinet and set it in front of her son, who gleefully grabbed the biggest cinnamon roll he could find.

"I don't blame him for being mistrustful," Lancelot told his wife. "Last time, Parsifal did eat them all."

"And I told you I'm sorry," Parsifal said indignantly. "What more do you want from me?"

"For you to eat more quickly," I replied. "We need to get going if we don't want to spend the night there."

"Where are you going?" Jave asked through mouthfuls of dough.

"Jave, chew, then ask questions," Mirael pleaded, though it was hard to be mad at Jave. He grinned and icing dribbled down his chin.

"We're going to Martel," Parsifal told him. "We're going to make people better."

"Oh." Jave finished chewing and then frowned. "Can I come?"

"Not this time," Lancelot replied. "You have school. Maybe some other time."

Parsifal finished his breakfast and I set my knife down.

"Thank you so much, Mirael," I said. "This was delicious."

She smiled and then handed her husband a napkin. "I enjoy cooking," she answered. "Now get out there and save lives. I can get the dishes. Jave will help me, won't you?"

Jave frowned at his mother as we stood. Parsifal fished out the transport spell and we vanished from the table to the Martel portion of the barrier. Once through, we went straight to the hospital.

Over the last ten years, Parsifal and I had made it a habit to go to Martel every two weeks or so. We always came back out of magic, but we were stronger for it. Lancelot had joined us in the last five years, and although he could only heal bones and cuts, he enjoyed the work as much as we did. We lacked such a sense of urgency in Otherworld.

The hospital was busy today, which was fine for us. The staff was used to seeing us around, and although no one ever said anything to us, they had to suspect something. Days we were there, bones would set by themselves, cancer would vanish, and children would be healthy again.

"Where do we want to start?" Lancelot asked. "Don't leave me in the X-ray waiting room again. All the children scream in that room."

"Are you that scary?" Parsifal inquired. "Let's go to the children's ward. We can start there and work out way back to the waiting room. Deal?"

We didn't talk about our work much. In some ways, I felt bad for patients who had been waiting on days we weren't here, days that cancer results came back positive. But we couldn't come every day, and we couldn't save everyone. It was nice to think we were making a difference though.

"Jave is probably the most ancient three year old I have ever met," I told Lancelot.

He laughed. "That boy gets me into trouble constantly," he admitted. "Which is not what we had expected. Beo has battle magic. He doesn't get into as much trouble as Jave."