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  Both Hugh and Xavier stared at each other, obviously at a loss with what Gilda just said. The woman had mysteriously summoned Hugh to her room that day and urged him to call Jonah to specifically ask how she was feeling. Aside from telling him the fact that Rebecca was dead, she had not explained the reason for the call.

  "How is the girl?" Gilda asked.

  "I think she's taking it cool. But I don't know—we were interrupted," Hugh answered. "Why do you want to know?"

  "Why such naiveté? The greatest healer is dead. And haven't you heard that the seven children conspired to kill their own mother?" Gilda chided.

  "What's it to me?" Hugh asked. He moved away from the window and crossed the room. He tapped Xavier slightly on the shoulder and motioned for him to follow.

  "Come back here," Gilda scolded before Hugh could reach the door. "I am not done yet."

  "If this is about your eternal warfare with Rebecca Blood—" Hugh started saying.

  "This is about our dear boy, Xavier!" Gilda cut in.

  Hugh heaved in a deep breath and paused near the door, his brows in a scowl and both hands on his hips.

  "Sit down! Let me explain," Gilda said. Seeing that Hugh was not moving from his place, Gilda continued, "I want you to find who the next greatest healer is. I don't believe that the seven children killed Rebecca. But I do believe one of them did. And whoever did it is now the greatest healer."

  "This is a job for the police," Xavier said.

  At which point, Hugh, raising both hands heavenward, then pointing towards Xavier gestured his approval. "Precisely," he said.

  "The police are in it for the murderer. Leave them to their jobs. They may or may not close this case in their lifetime, it is not our concern," Gilda reasoned. "You're in it for the greatest healer. And you need to get into the bottom of this to heal our dear boy, Xavier for good."

  "How?" Hugh asked.

  "This habak will help you. It will summon the healer and reveal its secrets to her the way it won't to me, to you or to any other person alive. Start with the seventh child. Give this to her and see what happens when she wears it," Gilda replied.

  "Why Jonah?" Xavier blurted out. "She couldn't have killed her own mother."

  "She has every reason to—" Gilda answered.

  "What?" Xavier said, perplexed.

  "You!" Both Gilda and Hugh said in unison.

  "No way!" Xavier said strongly. "She won't resort to such heinous thing—even for me. It doesn't make any sense at all."

  "I have to agree with X!" Hugh said. "Jonah isn't the type."

  Gilda watched the two boys from beneath her lashes. They had been foolishly smitten by a girl. Wasn't it only a thousand years ago when she thought Rebecca wasn't the type to kill her own family for the sake of power? And wasn't it only a thousand years ago when she herself was tempted to end her own sister's life?

  "A healer thinks differently," Gilda said. "We don't think in line with what people call now a days morality. We kill for blood. For power. And yes, for love. It is neither good nor evil. It is just the healer's way."

  Gilda proceeded to tell Hugh and Xavier the story of her own family. It was the first time Hugh heard about his mother's ancestry.

  Rebecca, Gilda and Judith were originally sisters before they were borne out of their different families as they went through numerous lifetimes as healers.

  Zadok had taken Tali, the chief priestess, as his wife. But Tali died giving birth to their daughter, Rebecca. It was believed that when a woman died during childbirth, the child had overcome the mother and the power to heal or destroy will be passed on to the newborn baby. On that day, the mark of the greatest healer was bestowed upon Rebecca.

  Zadok, broken and devastated over the death of his wife, laid to waste himself in labor and totally forgot about his child. However, Tali's slave, Ivka, out of loyalty to her mistress, had loved the girl like her own and took care of the child.

  Ivka was the only notion of a mother Rebecca had and the child loved the woman dearly. Upon seeing Ivka's ways with his child, Zadok made her his wife to take care of him as well. The union produced two children, Gilda and Judith.

  However, Rebecca was not at all pleased with the birth of her two sisters. She had become possessive of Ivka and aloof with Gilda and Judith. It had become worse when Rebecca discovered her abilities to heal at a young age. She became guarded and self-centered. Even when Gilda and Judith began discovering their own abilities to heal, Rebecca had not wanted to take part of it.

  When it was time for Ivka to pass on to another world to die temporarily before she awakened again as a healer, Rebecca took her life and killed her. Rebecca had thought once Ivka awakened again, she will have a new set of family and children to rear as her own and Rebecca would lose her place in Ivka's life. Killing Ivka and owning the power she had was Rebecca's way of keeping Ivka a part of her forever.

  However, the taste of another healer's power in communion with one's own had a different effect on Rebecca. She had hungered for more of a healer's blood. She had planned to kill Gilda and Judith as well.

  "God, I had wanted to kill her myself when I found out," Gilda said. "And yes, it entered my mind that when I succeed, I shall be the greatest healer. Now, now—there's no shame or guilt about it. It's just the healer's way."

  Gilda fingered the trinkets of the habak again. Then, she held it up high, dangling the jewelry like a bait on a hook. "Lure the girl to wear this the way you lure women to your bed. A heart so in love will wear a garland of poison to her deathbed. This is nothing deadly. I am pretty sure, one of you will be able to pull it off. Then, tell me how she will react to this and I will know for sure."

  Hugh approached Gilda and took the broken habak from her fingers. He turned to Xavier and said, "Let's get out of here, man!" Then, he headed towards the door without looking back at Gilda.

  Xavier nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders off and stood up. But Gilda stopped him and said, "Let me bless you first, my dear boy Xavier!"

  Xavier threw Hugh a helpless look pleading for him to stay until the whole thing was over. But Hugh turned his back and went for the door.

  As Hugh closed the door behind him, he saw Xavier lowered himself on one knee in front of Gilda as she laid her hands just a few inches above his head and muttered a prayer. Hugh turned the habak in his hands and ran his fingers through the little trinkets the way he had seen Gilda did it. He felt nothing. He had expected something unusual to happen since he was also a healer. But there was none.

  Just then, Xavier opened the door and joined Hugh. He swatted Hugh's arm and told him, "Thanks a lot for bringing me in there and staying with me. You know I don't like those woo-hoo stuff she does."

  "Oh, come on, X! No harm done. You're in one piece. You don't even have to believe. Let me show you," Hugh said. He ran his hand in circles over Xavier's chest and added, "Tell me if you're not feeling better already."

  "It's not that. It's just being with her—" Xavier stopped in mid-sentence, color rising to his face, looking embarrassed. "I didn't mean to say that about her—"

  Hugh chuckled merrily. "Gotcha! Now, we're even for putting me through the call with Jonah earlier. Don't bother explaining. I feel the exact same thing even if she's— you know."

  "So, how do you reckon about Jonah?' Xavier asked.

  "I'll have this one fixed first before you give it to her," Hugh said, pocketing the habak.

  "No way," Xavier blurted out. "I am not giving it to her. She's your mother. It's her orders, remember?"

  "She's your girlfriend, remember?" Hugh asked. "It'll look funny."

  "We—" Xavier stopped and looked thoughtful for a moment. "But you like her, don't you?" he asked, catching himself by surprise.

  Hugh was silent but he did not break eye contact with Xavier. Neither a single crinkling between the eyebrows nor the quivering of the mouth would have betrayed what he was thinking or feeling. The expression on his face was bland.

  Xavier dismissed
the idea with his hand before Hugh could say anything and turned to leave. He pulled a bonnet out of his pocket and put it on his head. He called over his shoulder and said, "I am out of here, man. If mom asks—I need some air. And yes, I feel better already."

  Hugh heard the last of Xavier's footsteps died down before he was able to breath freely again. He mused. Did I like Jonah? Did it matter? It wouldn't have mattered because Xavier loved her and she loved him back. And there was no way he could take away from Xavier the one thing which kept him alive, couldn't he?

  It was not about Xavier. Or Jonah. It was about how he truly felt for Jonah. Did he like Jonah? That was the issue.

  Chapter 9

  The Healer's Gift

  Jonah had been roaming around the 600-hundred-year-old Church for the lack of anything better to do. She bounced off, coming down from the balcony of the building. It was there when she felt like a CCTV camera was following her every move, secretly knowing the times when she snuck out with Xavier to make-out at the farthest corner of the balcony. Despite feeling the guilt, prompted by a conservative religious mindset instilled by Rebecca's voice in her head, she smiled mischievously looking back at those moments.

  She could hear the piano and a very familiar male voice singing in the background from down below.

  It can't be X… Jonah told herself. Probably a member of the church choir practicing. But it couldn't be X.

  When Jonah reached the first floor, she sat at the farthest corner at the back. She had opted to remain inside the Church than to go with Jane to Father Ulysses’ office to discuss the services for Rebecca.

  Jane was the only one who insisted that Rebecca be given a proper religious service. Jonah had thought it wouldn't make any difference. The other Blood siblings had agreed it would be laughable to include the Church to bury their mother. Even Aunt Judith had not opposed.

  "It's the least we can do for her funeral!" Jane had insisted. "It'll be like an acknowledgement for the good that she has done."

  It wasn't a secret that Rebecca had earned the ire of the bishops. While both Rebecca and the bishops rubbed elbows in charitable functions, they were stabbing each other behind their backs. Rebecca may have been a staunch supporter of the Church but Jonah doubted her mother was a true believer.

  Rebecca had often said, "The Church is where the influence is. And I want to be in the middle of it."

  But the worse scenario for Jonah would be for the people to flock to the Church to see if the rumors were true—that Rebecca and the rest of her family cannot really enter the building without turning into witches and burning.

  It had started even before Jonah was even born. The tale went on that there was once when people witnessed Rebecca in a heated argument with a woman just outside the Church. And when Rebecca tried to enter the building, a strong wind blew, her hair had stood on its ends and her eyes had turned red.

  A few days after, the woman whom Rebecca had a spat with, died mysteriously.

  The older members of Jonah's family took the rumors as a joke. However, Jonah had never quite gotten used to it. She still felt embarrassed every time she heard of it. And there was the burning desire to prove people wrong.

  The last time Jonah had been inside the Church, it had already been months. And it was not to attend celebrations. Blushing with embarrassment, she was reminded again of her not-so-religious adventures and intentions when she frequented the Church.

  Jonah looked towards the right side corner of the altar where the big piano was. She froze, almost forgetting to breathe and think as she saw two boys who were looking over sheets of paper.

  Even with his bonnet, which was pulled low to his face, the tall boy about her age, looking through the other one’s brown-haired head who sat by the piano, was undeniably familiar. Although, it was the last place Jonah thought she would find Xavier, it was so unexpected to see him there, looking like— he was supposed to be there.

  X…

  Jonah was feeling foolish all of a sudden. For so many weeks, she had thrown herself towards Xavier just to get a word from him—she almost camped outside of his house. But seeing Xavier again just a few meters away from her and she could not think of anything but her hair and the lack of make-up.

  I am not moving an inch…even when he sees me. Jonah thought to herself. She squirmed a bit, her hands feeling sweaty all of a sudden. She noted three more people inside the Church. They were in deep prayer.

  God, if they see me here…I’ll die. She thought. It never entered her mind the possibility of bumping into Xavier inside the Church. Since he was avoiding her for so long, he wouldn't turn up in the same places he knew Jonah will likely find him. It had been Xavier who drew her to Church then. His voice…his looks—making out. But it was also him who drove her away from the place. She wasn’t expecting to see him at all when she decided to be left behind because all she wanted to do was to avoid being asked to play a part in Rebecca’s services.

  Maybe, he wants to be found… Jonah reasoned to herself recalling what Hugh said that Xavier was getting well and he may connect with her again.

  Without taking her eyes off from the altar, Jonah felt blindly through her sling bag for the little mirror she always carried with her. When she finally found it amidst the mess inside, she flipped it open and looked at her reflection without taking the mirror from the bag. She slouched lower to take a peek at herself but all she could see was a part of her face from her eyes to her nose, which wasn't that disappointing at all.

  God, my hair…why did I cut my hair?

  "Why should I feel discouraged…why should the shadows come…why should my heart feel lonely…And long for Heav'n and home," Xavier's strong male voice reverberated through with his own rendition of His Eye is on the Sparrow by Civilla Martin.

  Giving up on the mirror, Jonah zipped her bag close and leaned forward, resting her face on both clasped hands. His voice hadn’t changed a bit. She mentally noted.

  The boy’s head turned an inch towards Jonah’s direction and her heart almost leaped through her throat. However, she kept still. He shouldn’t see me at all…if he sees me, what will I say?

  Jonah felt very different when she was forcing her way to see him. She had felt the drive. The anger. The motivation. The obstinacy. But with Xavier just a few steps away, with no hindrance, Jonah felt like cowering away.

  Xavier stopped just as the piano stopped. From where Jonah was, she could hear a few of the two boys’ fragmented conversation and their laughter.

  "Can't do it—" Xavier said.

  "You—beat—let go—" Dean, the dark haired boy whom Jonah knew as well, answered.

  If he sings again, it will be my time to leave…Then, he won’t notice me at all. Then, I can just call him to meet up some other time. WHEN I AM READY. Jonah reflected, planning her hopefully undetected exit. While waiting to hear his voice again, she observed him from a far.

  His contours seemed on the leaner—in fact thinner side. Jonah examined. The light overhead reflected brightly through his face, making it even looked lighter from afar. His face…the cheekbones were a little bit prominent. And his skin—definitely needed a lot of color. Well, he is still nice to look at… Jonah concluded.

  A movement from the corner of Jonah's eye made her looked away from Xavier. It was an old woman with a four-footed standard walker. The woman left her walker in the aisle and clumsily held out her hand to Jonah for assistance as she squeezed herself to get seated in the long bench.

  Jonah stood up and took the old woman’s hand and guided her to her seat.

  "Thank you," the old woman uttered. As if she was in a trance, she did not let go off Jonah’s hand.

  When Jonah heard Xavier's voice again, she decided it was time for her exit. Without noticing, the old woman was still holding on to Jonah's hand. The woman was allowing herself to be dragged as Jonah backed off towards the other end of the bench.

  The other boy abruptly tapped on a piano key for a beat which drew Jonah’s a
ttention back to the altar. And when she looked towards the brunette by the piano, their eyes locked and there was a moment of hesitation from both of them. Then, recognition came.

  For a split second, Jonah felt panicky. Dean had seen me. And it won’t be long before… She saw him trying to shield his eyes with his hand as if he was making it certain it was really her. Then, to her horror he held his hand up in a wave which made Xavier looked in her direction.

  "Jonah?" Dean asked. "Is that you?"

  Jonah looked back at the old woman and hurriedly said, "You’re welcome!" It was the only time she noticed that the woman had not released her grip yet making her panicky all the more. She thought if she carelessly run outside, the old woman would certainly fall off and she couldn’t bear to think of it. However, it was also to her detriment because the very last person she wanted to see at the moment was on his way towards her.

  "Thank you," the woman said again. This time, her eyes were beginning to reveal a few tears brimming on the edges. "Thank you! For years, I shake and can't walk properly. Now—What a gift—. Thank you! I—you healed me. You are a—" She was not able to finish what she was going to say as she began to cry loudly.

  Jonah's mouth dropped open. Did she just do something strange to the old woman? What was it Aunt Judith said about healers? She hadn't paid much attention to it when Aunt Judith told all of them that their mother was a great healer and they were searching for the next healer in line. She vaguely recalled her Aunt Judith saying something about healing powers being passed on to Rebecca's murderer.

  SHE WAS NO MURDERER. SHE WAS NO HEALER…How was it possible? The old woman couldn't really be sick. She was probably senile and imagining things. Jonah couldn't have cured her of anything. She peered over the old woman's shoulder and saw the walker. I didn't make the woman walk, did I?

  There was no time to ponder about things. And there was nothing else Jonah was able to say. She was not thinking straight anymore. She pried her fingers from the old woman with her free hand and began her exit. All the while she was nodding with a half-frozen smile plastered on her face at the old woman.