“I don’t want to be a bother, but do you have clean clothes for me when I’m done?”
That was the first time I looked at what she was wearing. A black tank-top with white circles of dirt on it and a pair of tight, soft black pants. Both of which were the same that she had been wearing in the hospital days ago, only she was missing the long-sleeved pink shirt. “I don’t have anything that’ll fit you.”
“It’s okay. I’ll take whatever you have. I’ll wash my clothes and hang them to dry…I mean, I don’t suppose you have washing machines in this non-technological world of yours?”
“No washing machines, but I can clean them pretty quickly for you.” All it took was to wet the clothes and the sacrifice of a piece of wood from my woodpile. With a twirl of my finger…poof, they’d be clean, but there was something about having Izzy want to wear my clothes that had me disappearing into my bedroom, returning with the softest tunic I owned as well as a pair of knickers, laying them down beside the bath. “Just yell if you need anything else. I’m going to make us some stew.”
“You did promise me a bath, a meal, and bed.”
I didn’t miss the way she emphasized the word bed, but I kept my voice even despite the excitement that twirled deep in my core. “I did.”
I explained how to use the soap plant to get a lather before slipping out of the bathroom and closing the door behind me. I didn’t retreat into the kitchen. Instead, I leaned against the door, listening to make sure everything was okay inside the bathroom. I heard the creak of my old kitchen chair and the movement of water. An image of her slipping down into the warm bath formed in my mind.
Then she moaned like she was having the time of her life.
And I chuckled at how such a simple pleasure could make her so happy.
“Greyson, you there?”
“Aye. Sorry. I just…wanted to make sure everything was fine.”
“It’s better than fine. It’s…an amazing adventure. The best experience of my life!”
“I’m glad.” I truly was. I excused myself and forced myself into the kitchen to make my pot of stew, cutting up whatever root veggies I had on my porch as well as a few chunks of tundra-deer meat I had dried in my smokehouse.
When Izzy called for me to come get her out of the bathroom, the entire cabin was warm and smelled delicious. As soon as I stepped through the bathroom doorway, I stopped, seeing her sitting on the kitchen chair. My light grey tunic drowned her small frame, but the wide neckline hung over one shoulder, giving me a view of her creamy skin. I sucked in a breath, admiring how my clothes looked so right on her despite them being so wrong.
“Reading material?” she laughed, nodding towards the newspaper tucked underneath my arm.
“No,” I pulled it out and opened it to the article about the mysterious disease. “You said that you didn’t recognize any of the names of the others infected by the curse. I thought with a bit of magic, you could see their faces.” I knelt down beside the bathtub and read the first name into the air. “Marcus Hurth.” I plucked the bits of magic from the air, made my sacrifice, and waved my hand over the glass-like water surface.
An image of a man, old enough to be my father, or even my grandfather, appeared on the surface of the water.
“Do you recognize him?”
When I glanced at Izzy, her eyes were wide as she watched the man’s face move in conversation.
“Izzy?”
“No. I don’t know him, but holy cow! That’s magic.”
“You knew I was a witch.”
“You’re a witch?”
I took a deep breath. Perhaps she hadn’t put it all together yet.
“I thought it was just Ruby…”
“How else did I help with your disease? And you didn’t see me doing magic in your room when I was searching for your medicine?”
“I was a bit under the weather, but you are a witch?” Her mouth hung open slightly.
I chuckled at the repetitiveness of her question. “Why are you so surprised?”
She shook her head like I should know the answer. “Because you’re a guy.”
“And guys can’t be witches?”
“Warlocks, sure, maybe. But you don’t look like a warlock. Or a wizard for that matter.”
“Says the lass from a non-magical world. All magic practitioners are called witches. A warlock or wizard are just terms from your world to masculinize male witches.”
“Oh, I think you’re pretty masculine…for a witch.” She giggled.
I had to look away, back at the tub, because if I kept staring at her, I’d never be able to focus on the whole purpose of bringing her to my home. “So, do you recognize him?” I pointed to man reflecting in her bathwater.
“No.”
I read the next name off the list and waved my hand to change the image in the water. “Peter Solomen.”
She shook her head.
“Daisy Anders.”
Izzy puckered her lips at the woman’s reflection that appeared who seemed to be about the same age as us. “I know her. I went to school with her, but her last name was Smith back then. She must be married already.” Izzy laughed. “What do I mean ‘already’? I’m twenty-six. Most of my classmates are probably married with kids.”
“You’re twenty-six?” There was no way this frail little beauty was twenty-six. Not by the way she acted or how she looked.
“Hey, it’s rude to ask a woman her age.”
I laughed again. I wasn’t liking all this hidden humor she brought out in me, but I couldn’t help it. “You just told me how old you were.”
“Then you don’t need to ask. Why are you so surprised that I’m nearly ancient?”
I shrugged. “I just didn’t expect you to be older than me.”
“You’re younger than me?” She tilted her chin. “Maybe you are, but you can’t tell because your hair covers everything but your eyes.” Izzy reached over and pushed my shaggy bangs off my forehead and squinted. “Yeah, perhaps you are younger than me. How old are you?”
“Isn’t it rude to ask a lad his age?”
“That only applies to women.”
“What a double standard. First, men can’t be witches, then you can’t ask a woman her age. Sounds like your world is quite sexist and discriminate towards men.”
“If only.” Izzy laughed and looked back to the water. “So, what does it mean that one of my old classmates is sick, too?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. There must be something you have in common with all four of the newly infected. I think we should have Ruby take us back to your world tomorrow to investigate.”
“Can’t you just ask your magic to tell us what we’re missing?”
“It doesn’t work like that.” I rolled up my sleeve and pulled the bath’s plug. “Magic can’t tell me something I don’t know.”
“But you didn’t know what those people looked like, and now you do. Magic told you.”
“Huh,” I said. “I guess it did.”
“So just ask the great bathtub what all of us have in common.”
“It won’t work.”
“Why?”
“It just won’t.”
“Maybe it won’t work because you don’t think it’ll work. Try it. For me?” She batted her eyes. “Pretty please.”
I turned back to the water, waving my hand over the surface, asking what Izzy wanted. “Oh, great tub of luke-warm dirty water. What do Marcus, Peter, Daisy, Annabelle, and Izzy have in common?”
The face of Daisy disappeared, and the water went clear.
“Either all of you have nothing in common, or, like I said, magic doesn’t work that way. Magic can’t solve any mysteries.”
“Hmm,” Izzy said, but then her lips curled up into the biggest smile. “What’s that I smell?”
“Stew.”
She clapped her hands and pointed out the door. “Then take me to the kitchen. Step two in making me healthy. I had a bath. And now, here comes a meal.”
>
I laughed. Her perkiness—though way over the top—was the positive outlook on life that I hadn’t had.
And I had my health.
She didn’t even have that.
How was it possible to keep so happy knowing that the current day might be your last?
I picked the chair up with her still in it, and she giggled as I carried her to the kitchen and set her down at my little round table where I already had the copper bowls set out. As I retrieved the pot of stew and a ladle, Izzy started coughing again as suddenly as if I hadn’t made her better back at her house. I tossed the kettle back onto the woodstove and knelt at Izzy’s side. I placed my palm to the first bit of skin I saw, against her cheek, and closed my eyes, separating the magical magnetic sand once again and dispersing it in her body.
Her coughing stopped, and when I opened my eyes, she smiled. “Thank you.”
I shook my head. “It appears my help doesn’t last long.”
“That’s okay. I still feel a million times better than I had.”
“Then why is your hand pressed against your side?” I asked. I had seen that action from many of my patients when they were in pain.
She dropped her hand and forced a smile. “No reason. I’m fine.”
I tilted my chin. “You’re not fine.”
“I am. Really. Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
I grit my teeth and kept quiet, knowing, but not wanting to accept what was wrong. Magic only went so far. Izzy was still sick and there was nothing I could do about it. Eventually, the magic of her sickness would overtake my ability to control her pain and her cough. And she’d be right back to where she was when I first met her…slowly falling into her grave.
Chapter 8
I didn’t think the stew was anything special, but Izzy said it was the ‘best experience of her life.’
“Set me up in front of your sink, and I’ll help with dishes,” she offered, after she licked the bowl clean.
I picked up her bowl and turned it over in my hands. “First off, this bowl is already clean,” I teased. “But seriously, you don’t need to help.”
“If you think I’m too sick for domestic chores, you’re wrong.”
“No, really.” I waved my hands over the dirty bowls, pulling at my magic and sacrificing a few more pieces of wood. All the dishes on the table turned clean. “You don’t need to. Remember, I’m a witch.” I smiled.
“Then it’s time for bed, and tomorrow, we’ll lift this curse.” She reached out towards me, wiggling her fingers while waiting for me to swoop her up. “Take me to bed!”
To bed? Certainly, she didn’t mean…but when I saw her big, goofy smile, I laughed. Honestly, I hadn’t laughed as much as I had in the past few hours as in the past year or more. I nearly charged forward to scoop Izzy into my arms. She circled hers around my neck, brushing my shaggy hair off my cheek and tucking it behind my ear.
I carried her into the spare bedroom where I laid her down on the down-filled mattress. “I’ll be right back,” I said, disappearing into the living room. I hefted my davenport over my shoulder as I maneuvered the heavy piece of furniture through the bedroom doorway, setting it down as soon as I found enough floor space.
“What are you doing?” Izzy asked.
“I’m staying in here with you. If you have another fit, I need to be near. I want to make sure I hear you.”
“And you’re going to sleep on that little thing?” Izzy pointed to the davenport which was only two-thirds my size.
“I’ve done it before.”
“Nonsense. There’s plenty of room up here.”
She patted the mattress beside her.
“That’s not…proper.”
“Come on. Somehow, I don’t think you really care what’s proper and what’s not. It’s practical. Doesn’t it make sense? This bed is way bigger than I need, and I don’t mind sharing. That is, unless you can’t be trusted?” She arched an eyebrow at me.
“Wha-wait. You insisted on staying at my house—a complete stranger to you. You’re beyond the point where you can question whether or not I’m trustworthy.”
I returned the davenport to the living room and took off my boots, then changed into something more comfortable after washing up. By the time I returned to the spare bedroom, Izzy was fast asleep.
I took a deep breath. Should I have insisted on the davenport? How about my bedroom? I’m sure I could hear her coughing through the wall. Why did I even want to be in her bedroom at all? Was I just making an excuse?
A more respectable man would have slept in his own bed, but I had nobody to impress. I crawled into the bed beside Izzy with a separate blanket and covered myself up.
Her soft breaths filled the room with a rhythmic sound that lulled me to sleep much faster than I would have expected, sleeping next to a woman who amazed me as much as Izzy did.
As soon as we ate dried meat and nuts for breakfast, I bundled Izzy up in my best cloak and we went outside to call for Luna. I put two fingers in my mouth and filled the mountain side with an ear-piercing whistle.
“That’s it?” Izzy sat on a bench made out of a few split logs.
“She’ll be here in a few minutes. Her family’s lair is within dragon-hearing distance. I know it’s not as easy as your world with your cell phones.”
“You know about cell phones?” Izzy prodded.
“Ruby told me all about them. She’s from your world.”
“But she’s a queen here.”
“Long story, but her father is from here. He is a half-witch, which makes Ruby a quarter-witch. Her mother was just as mortal as you are.”
“You say her father and her mother, but she’s your sister? Don’t you both have the same parents?”
“She’s my half-sister. We share our father, unfortunately. He’s locked in the dungeon of the castle.”
“Ruby has her father held prisoner?”
“Oh, he deserves it. He had taken over the kingdom. Lots of people were going to die under his rule. His wife—who I thought was my mother, but now, it turns out she probably isn’t—cursed the kingdom…and other kingdoms in the past. The two of them are ruthless.”
“So, who is your mother?” Izzy asked, staring off into the bright blue morning sky.
“Maybe her sister, but I’m not sure.” With a flutter, around the mountain side flew in my dragon. Saved from attempting to answer whatever question Izzy threw at me next, I pointed. “Here comes Luna.”
“If anyone knows what screwed-up parents are like, it’s me.” Izzy laughed and my heart seemed to melt since I had thought the same thing about her only a day ago. She did know what deadbeat parents were like. Parents who would steal their own child’s medicine. Who didn’t visit her in the hospital. My whole life, I felt bad for myself, but it could have been worse. Sure, my father tried to steal my memories, and basically, disowned me. But at least, he never brought me physical pain like Izzy’s parents did when they deprived her of her medicine.
Luna touched down in an open area beside my rows upon rows of chopped wood that covered ten times the ground that my house did. If I was mortal, the wood would last me a lifetime. But I was a witch who used it as a magical sacrifice. I couldn’t have too much prepared—just in case.
“Hey, girl,” I said, placing my hand against the cool scales of her neck. “Could you fly us to the castle? We need Ruby to take us to the other world.” Having a cellphone would have been easier. Or perhaps a magic mirror, but those were typically only used by evil witches. There was something about a know-it-all mirror that twisted and corrupted your soul.
Luna glared at me with an icy stare.
“Don’t tell me you’re mad because we left you at the castle yesterday? Ruby had news that I felt I had to deal with urgently.” And in an attempt to make Luna happy, I waved my hand in Izzy’s direction. “And look who’s visiting. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Luna’s gaze didn’t lighten.
I ran my hand down her neck. “Okay
. We won’t do it again. From now on, you can come everywhere we go.”
Luna nudged me with her nose, and her wings flapped.
“So, I’m forgiven?” I asked, already knowing the answer but still waiting for my dragon’s confirmation. When Luna nodded, I retrieved Izzy from off the bench and hefted her up on Luna’s back, securing myself behind her. I wrapped my arms around Izzy, ensuring she wouldn’t fall, and leaned down and took the ever-ready reins.
“Ready for the real ‘best experience of your life’?” I teased, throwing her words back at her.
She twisted around with big wide eyes almost as glowing as her smile. “I am.”
With that, I tugged the reins to give Luna the go-ahead. With a powerful jump and flap of her enormous wings, Luna lifted us into the air. Her breaths heavy against my legs wrapped around her torso.
“What do you think?” I whispered into Izzy’s ear, leaning in close enough to smell the soap sticks on her skin.
When she twisted around this time, her lips were mere inches from mine and every ounce of me wanted to kiss her.
But whatever bit of that respectable man I didn’t think I was, showed himself and by mere…magic…kept my composure long enough to feel Izzy’s breath against my skin as she whispered, “You’re right. This is the best experience of my life.”
And I laughed, wrapping my arms around her tighter as Luna’s speed picked up.
Honestly, that moment was the best experience of my life, too.
Ruby was happy to take Izzy, Luna, and me to the hospital where the other four victims of the curse stayed as soon as she and Ty finished with court. All the politics a king and queen had to go through wouldn’t suit me. I was too impatient and wouldn’t want to hear the whining of the villagers about who stole whose crops or built a fence on the other’s land. But Ruby and Ty had a knack for dealing with the villagers in a way that elicited respect. They never let the villagers rant or exaggerate. They swiftly whittled the complaints down to mere facts and made a decision.
It was like they were born for their current positions. I guess, Ty was.
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