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Helena prayed. “Lord, use me as an instrument of healing today. Bless me and Fairbairn as we undertake our mission. Bless those we are to minister today, let us uncover the Lady's plans so we can defeat her. Our Lad of Mount Carmel, protect us in your mantle, guide us in your steps. St. Nuno, protect me. Amen.”
Helena stood up and grabbed her bag filled with her Zat, her comms and smelling salts. She came into the refectory, motioned to Fairbairn, who was dressed in her excursion uniform and tactical vest, and the two set off for the first address Simon had given them.
Helena knocked on the door. For a long time no one answered. When Helena was about to knock a second time, a little boy of about five answered the door.
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Helena smiled. “Hello, are your parents in?”
The little boy was frightened of the Carmelite nun. Helena bent down. “I’m one of Maerwynn’s friends.” That seemed to reassure him a bit. “My friend and I are here to help cure your parents.”
“John, who is at the door?” a sweet feminine voice called from the other side of the room.
“One of Maerwynn’s friends, Mama,” the boy replied. The woman came to the door, a thin thirty-something creature with red hair and hazel eyes. She was in a blissed-out state; her hair was long and in a style like a hippie.
“Hello, Sister,” said the woman. “Do you know the light?”
Helena decided to play along to gain trust. She smiled. "Indeed, I have seen the light, my friend,” she said. “The Lady promises peace and long life.” It was then Helena realized this was the woman she prayed over two days ago. She changed tactics.
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