The Samhain Chronicles: Ch. 14

Life at the convent was quite simple, yet rather peaceful. The sisters had developed a seamless routine of pray, eat, work, repeat, and Danny and Penelope fell into that routine with little difficulty. Mother Abigail had a seemingly endless list of minor repairs and routine maintenance tasks for Danny to do in addition to helping out with the daily chores. Although by far not the most skilled carpenter or plumber, Danny knew how to swing a hammer and wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty if the need arose. Every other day, a handful of the sisters traveled down into the valley to the nearby village, to help out the elderly and infirm. Penelope elected to go with them on these little trips, mostly so that she could check out the village book shop and do more research on the internet there. Danny, of course, couldn't leave the convent for a myriad of reasons, but was usually kept so busy he didn't have time to notice her absence.

For the next two-and-a-half weeks, he divided his time between Mother Abigail's "Danny Do" list and scouring the convent library with Penelope. Granted the library was small but its contents quite vast, overflowing with religious texts both modern and ancient lining every inch of the dusty shelves. It had a very retro computer database that worked most of the time (if they were lucky), helping them narrow down their search a little. Even with the dubiously reliable digital resource at their disposal, however, it very quickly began feeling like they were hunting for a specific needle in a larger pile of needles.

Although Danny began feeling discouraging thoughts not long into their search for a way to banish the Phantom forever, Penelope remained undaunted. She had the stubborn, unyielding determination of a bulldog with a bone. Whenever she sensed his frustration growing, she encouraged Danny to take a short break then keep plugging away at it. Each and every day, Danny felt his love for her grow a little more, and by association his guilt for turning her into a fugitive as well from the mysterious organization tracking him. If she felt any kind of resentment or fear, she hid it well, which he honestly wasn't sure was a blessing or a curse. Then again, she did have more freedom than he did currently, which was something.

"Daniel? Daniel, are you listening?!"

Danny blinked, shaking his head as Penelope's bemused voice brought him out of his deep thoughts, "Hm? What? Oh, my apologies, Dearest... Did ye say something?"

Penelope closed the assortment of books spread out in front of her with a sigh, "I was saying I believe it's time for bed. You can hardly keep your eyes open..." She covered her mouth to stifle a yawn, "...and I'm not much better off. Come on; these books will still be here in the morning."

Danny nodded, stretching his back with a wince as he stood, "Yes... as per usual, Darling, ye're quite right." He closed the books he was pouring over, which he honestly couldn't remember a single word from, arranging them into a stack in his arms. He pecked Penelope on the cheek as he turned to leave, "I'll take these anyway, to look over once more before bed. Goodnight, Penelope. I'll see ye tomorrow."

As he strode toward the door, Penelope gasped, "Daniel, wait! Mind your-!" Her warning came too late; he had remembered to duck his head to go through the low, narrow entryway, but his wings caught on either side. He lost his balance on impact and stumbled backward, sending his books flying when he landed hard on his rump on the cold, stone floor.

He uttered a loud "oof" when he fell over, then stretched out all the way onto the floor with a groan, "...wings... I forgot... How stupid of me. Thank ye, Dearest... Ouch..."

Penelope giggled soflty as she helped him off the floor and picked up his books, "Daniel, my Love, you must be more careful! Are you hurt?"

His tanned cheeks turned a deep pink as he massaged his bruised tailbone, "Just my... ah... 'pride'. Thank ye." He pecked her lips softly and took his stack of books back, this time being mindful to pull his wings in tightly to his body before he slipped out the door. "I'll see ye at breakfast, Darling. Goodnight."

Danny continued to silently curse his buffoonery while he trudged across the courtyard from the library to the dormitory building. Over the past few weeks, his wings it seemed had taken on a personality of their own. They popped out at the most inconvenient times, more often than not without his knowledge or consent, which he had honestly gotten used to by now. The convent was fairly isolated at the top of the hill it was perched on, and the nuns had grown somewhat accustomed to seeing his wings on a regular basis. Because of those factors, and how light they were upon his shoulders, half the time Danny completely forgot they were there and was only reminded of their existence when they caught in a door or knocked over furniture.

When he reached the middle of the courtyard, Danny paused to look up at the night sky. The moon hung low in a fat crescent overhead, with the concave edge arranged almost completely horizontally. At that angle, he mused that it would have made a perfect hammock hanging in the velvety blue-black expanse. Danny's wings unfurled automatically, as he was tempted to see if he actually could fly up and settle into that silvery sling. Perhaps he might collect a handful of stars along the way, too, and string them together into a necklace for Penelope. As his toes left the gravel, however, the ever-present Phantom loomed near. It shimmered and rippled blacker than the night sky, almost gleeful with anticipation at his flight. It seemed to have gotten bolder over time, to the point that it hovered just below the edges of the rooftops. It always seemed to move closer whenever Danny thought about flying, as if it could still read his thoughts through their connection.

With a heavy sigh, Danny lowered himself back to the ground. The black mass bobbed tauntingly overhead, and although it didn't verbalize any thoughts, it's movements spoke volumes. "You're trapped here. As soon as you take to the sky, you're mine! It's only a matter of time. You can't stay on the ground forever, and you know it." Seething with anger and frustration, Danny picked up a handful of gravel and hurled it at the Phantom with all his might. "Go away!" He barked, "If ye want to leave so badly, then leave already!!" The pebbles sailed straight through the inky mass however, dropping to the ground again without leaving so much as a blemish on the surface of the inky, oily cloud. The Phantom didn't even flinch at the attack, and instead kept bobbing overhead even more mockingly.

Danny's shoulders drooped with defeat, "I suppose I shouldn't waste my energy on the likes of ye. Tomorrow promises to be long and busy... just like today, and yesterday... and the day before that."

"Not losing hope so soon, are you, My Lad?" The unexpected voice caused Danny to leap out of his skin, but when he whirled around to face the speaker, he pressed his palm over his pounding heart with a sigh.

"Dr. Horace," he smiled, "Ye startled me. What are ye doing here so late? Ah, not that it's any of my business."

His oldest friend chuckled and strode over, grasping his wrist to pull him gently back down to Earth. "My apologies," he grinned, "I had some business tonight with Mother Abigail that ran a bit late. I didn't mean to scare you, but I am very glad I caught you." He pulled Danny into a quick, warm hug, then broke the embrace so that he could look the taller, younger man in the eye, "So... how's progress? Have you figured out a way to deal with our, ah...little friend?" His eyes darted above Danny's head with a nod, indicating the cloud hovering around the dormitory building's eaves.

Danny sighed dejectedly and rubbed his stiff neck,"No, not yet. Penelope is quite confident though that we're getting close to...well, something. I have faith in her." A smile curled his lips as he thought more about the petite brunette, "Dr. Horace, she really is wonderful! I honestly dunno if I could e'en do this without her. Some days, it feels like she's the only thing keeping me sane."

"I assume your medication helps with that, too," Dr. Horace quipped, studying Danny's face sternly through his bushy eyebrows. "You have still been taking it, yes? Every day, like I've told you to?"

Danny shifted his weight and cleared his throat, his eyes lowering to his shoes, "Er... no, I-I haven't. It's the strangest thing, Dr. Horace; ever since Mother Abigail drove the Phantom out, I haven't felt like I need it. I took it for a day or two after, but they just made me feel..." He sighed, searching for the right words a moment, "I dunno... I suppose foggy-headed is the best way to describe it? I just feel sick when I take them now. Does that make sense?"

Dr. Horace sighed and shook his head in disappointment, "It's possible the dosage is too strong for you now. I'll make the proper adjustments when I can. Cut back to half a dose a day until then. Understand?"

Danny frowned puzzledly, "Why? I mean, I feel I really don't need them anymore, Dr. Horace. My mind is clearer than it's ever been, and I've stopped having nightmares. I had a dream the other night that was actually quite exhilirating...and I remembered it after waking up for once!" He chuckled at the thought, "Why, when I told Penelope about it the next morning, even she agreed-"

"That's what I thought," Dr. Horace frowned, "Daniel, did you stop taking your medication on your own, or did Penelope convince you to?! Answer me honestly!"

Danny blinked in astonishment, completely taken off guard by his therapist's sudden change in bearing, "I... I-It was my idea. I told ye, they made me feel ill. And when I told Penelope about it, she said I'd made the right decision." The look in Dr. Horace's eyes was one he had not seen since he was young. The old therapist scowled at him with anger and disappointment, the same way he had when Danny had accidentally broken a lamp while taking practice swings with his cricket bat in the house. "Dr. Horace," he asked, shrinking away from the heat of the older man's gaze hesitantly, "Is something the matter?"

The older man let out a heavy sigh and grabbed Danny firmly by the shoulders, staring him right in the eye. "I didn't want to tell you this, My Lad," he murmured, "but I don't believe Penelope can be trusted. I haven't trusted her from the moment we met, honestly. You're letting your affections for her cloud your judgement, Boy! Can't you see that?!" His grip tightened a little as his emerald eyes flashed with intensity, "Just today, in the village, I saw her talking to that creature you described... the woman with the red hair. They're working together, Daniel! She can't be trusted."

Danny's brows furrowed with confusion, and he pulled out of Dr. Horace's grip with a shake of his head, "No... No, that can't be. Y-Ye made a mistake, Dr. Horace! Penelope was almost killed by that woman. They can't be in cahoots! I don't believe it... I can't believe it!" He started to walk away from his guardian, but Dr. Horace grabbed his arm to stop him.

"I have cared for you these fifteen years as if you were my own," he growled angrily, his eyes vibrant with determination, "Why, I practically raised you, Daniel! My only thought is for your well-being! Are you so blinded by infatuation that you cannot see that?!" His tone softened as he walked closer, putting his hands on Danny's face this time in a gentle, fatherly manner. "Trust me, Danny," he muttered, his eyes almost seeming to glow with intense love and kindness, "trust me, as you once did. Please."

Danny nodded slowly, then pulled the therapist into a hug, "I do... I've always trusted ye, Da'. Ye've looked after me all this time. That is a debt of kindness I can never repay, and I'm very grateful for everything ye've done."

Dr. Horace nodded and smiled, "Good... I'm glad to hear it. Until we get to the bottom of this, I want you to not utter a word to Penelope. I need time to do a little digging, make sure she's as upstanding as she appears. Can you do that for me?"

Danny bit his lip in thought. He trusted Penelope completely up until a few minutes ago. Now, however, he was beginning to question everything. Could Dr. Horace be right? Had she been lying to him all this time, pretending to love him and faking the attack with the creature to gain his trust? That thought alone made him feel sick.

He didn't know what to think anymore. He'd begun to develop a strong headache just from trying to think too much. He was beyond tired and confused, and didn't know who he could trust...apart from Dr. Horace, that is. Dr. Horace had always steered him right, keeping him on the straight and narrow for as long as he'd known him. Danny shook his head and rubbed his tired eyes with a heavy, defeated sigh, "Dr. Horace, I don't feel well all of a sudden. Can we talk about this more in the morning? Will ye stay here until then?"

The therapist nodded, putting his arm around his patient's shoulders warmly, "Yes, of course... if you insist. Let's get you to bed now, and make sure you take your medication tonight." Dr. Horace continued chatting with him all the way up to his chambers. The more they walked and talked, the stranger Danny seemed to feel. He couldn't quite explain it; something about Dr. Horace's usually calming tone of voice and cadence of speech was making him feel tired, melting his thoughts together into a muddled lumpy mush. He chalked it up to just being worn out from the day's work, not thinking much of it after Dr. Horace helped him to bed.

Once the older man had left Danny to return to his rooms in the village, Danny tried to get a little more reading done. The medication in his system however made his thoughts even more cloudy, causing the words to dance off the page and swirl around until he felt sick to his stomach. Eventually he gave up, stacking the books up on his bedside table with a sigh, "Never mind... Perhaps this will all make better sense in the morning." He plucked off his glasses and set them on top of the stack before switching off the light, then rolled over in bed wearily. He fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of a shadowy forest and people dancing around a large bonfire in kilts and animal hides. He was awakened suddenly when he felt a strange presence. For a moment, he thought he'd imagined it and tried to go back to sleep... but then he heard it again: footsteps creeping slowly across the creaky wooden floor. He lay in bed stock still, his eyes wide and his heart racing. Someone was in his room, and with each step they were moving closer and closer to his bed!