326

Lucy

Peter's breath hitched, rasping, and shallow, then deepened into a cough that wracked his battered body. His eyelids fluttered, eyelids so pale they were almost luminous in the dim torchlight. He struggled to get up, leaning on his Spear and on Michelle. The light pulsing through the Spear rippled over his skin. He let out a soft sigh and stumbled a little.

“Peter?”

“I... It’s gone.”

“What?” Michelle gasped as his hair started to change, losing the gray color and growing dark. His face turned younger until I was sure that he was all of twenty-something. He grew a bit taller, too, bigger until his shirt strained against his chest and his buttons popped. He flushed.

“Well… that’s not…” He cleared his throat as Michelle smiled up at him.

“So this is what you looked like in your youth?”

He scoffed. “I’m much younger than you think.”

He grunted, pressing a hand to his side. “Wish the Spear would heal the wound, though.”

I winced. “Sorry… it’s a