Free Shaman, Healer, Heretic by M. Terry Green Page B

continued with annoying pauses that would lull her into thinking it had stopped. Then it would start again. Nacho meowed.
    “All right!” she said and threw off part of the covers. “All right,” she muttered, sitting up.
    She went to the front door, with Nacho trailing behind, and looked through the peephole but whoever was there was standing off to the side.
    “Who is it?” she said, her tiredness producing more annoyance than she felt.
    “Livvy, it’s me,” came a small, high-pitched voice. “Soo Min.”
    “Min?” Livvy said, not quite processing the information.
    Min was another shaman, a neophyte really, a little younger than Livvy. Even so, shamans didn’t visit one another. In fact, they were careful not to be seen in public together. That was how their clients liked it, a throwback to the day when villagers sometimes suspected their shamans of colluding together for hexes, not healings.
      Livvy undid the locks, discharging a small static shock to the chain, and opened the door. Nacho dashed out, his usual routine in the morning. Although Livvy had adopted him, he was still the building cat. During the day, he was out and about, but at night he always came back to her place. Min liked Nacho and usually tried to pet him, but it seemed as if she hadn’t even seen him.
    She stood there, wringing her hands, and peered through the gap. It had been weeks since Livvy had seen Min. They’d met in the university hospital where Livvy had studied. Although she and Min had started training as shamans about the same time, Livvy had grown by leaps and bounds while Min still struggled. From time to time, Livvy even mentored her. When she had insisted that Min use ‘Livvy’ instead of ‘Olivia’, Min had insisted she drop the ‘Soo’ part of her first name. Despite all the prohibitions, they’d quickly become friends–secret friends.  
    Livvy looked past her into the hallway to see if anybody was watching, then took her by the hand and pulled her in, shutting the door behind her.
    “Min, what are you doing here?”
    “I made sure nobody saw me,” she said contritely. “Can we talk?”
    There was a pleading in her voice and Livvy knew she must have taken the bus at first light to get here at this hour. Now that she was inside, Livvy could see that something was wrong.
    “Sure, sure,” she said, giving her a brief hug and encouraging smile. “Stay for a bit.”
    Min stood close to the door, watching Livvy lock it.
    “Come in, sit down,” Livvy said, heading into the kitchen.
    She pulled out a folding chair as she passed the card table that straddled the edge of the linoleum.
    “I’m so sorry for coming by,” Min said, still wringing her hands. “But I had to talk to another shaman.”
    Min had always been thin, even for a Korean, but she was looking positively gaunt now. Her almond eyes were set too deeply into her high cheekbones. A jade choker rested between her collarbones instead of clinging to her neck. Unlike Livvy, Min dressed the part of a shaman and was wearing a long black velvet coat with gray piping, the high collar tucked up under her shoulder-length black hair. The bottom of her coat reached almost down to the tops of her knee-high black boots. The small leather flaps at the top of the boots were shaking and Livvy realized that Min was shivering.
    “Sit down,” said Livvy, as she started to forget how tired she’d been. “I’ll make some tea.”
    Min glanced around as if she needed more permission than that but finally came over to the table and sat down on the front edge of the chair, knees together, her hands folded in her lap.
    Livvy filled the kettle with water from the tap, put it on the stove, and lit one of the burners with a match. The igniters hadn’t ignited anything for months. With the flame burning high, Livvy left the kettle, took an open package of cookies and two paper plates over to the table, and set them down next to the tall plastic bottle of syrup. She sat