4. Chapter 3 #2
Her parents were older, in their early-seventies, but losing their magic had aged them exponentially.
She wasn’t stupid. She knew that if she couldn’t get their magic back as soon as possible, then her parents would pass away.
Religious arcane texts depicted those who lost their magic as “half-souls” and would not be accepted into the afterlife.
Instead, they would be stuck between the planes of the living and the dead.
Ivy didn’t believe it. None of it. She wanted to return her parents’ magic to them so that, when it was their time, they would remember who they were and see everything she had become.
They couldn’t leave this world, her world, without that. She wouldn’t allow it.
“So, Ivy,” Betsy said, her voice soft but with an edge of caution. “I may need to hire part-time help while you’re in school. Miriam and Charles…they’re needing more help in their day-to-day an—”
“Whatever you need,” Ivy nodded, placing her fork onto her barely touched plate. “Make sure they’re taken care of. I’ve already added your name to all the accounts for withdrawals for their wages.”
“Alright, I’ll do that,” she said before taking a sip of her cola. “Do you plan on visiting during school breaks?”
“Likely only for Christmas. I’m not sure I’ll have much time to come all the way here with a double major.” She left out that she’d also be searching for Briar.
“Good, good. I’m sure they’d love your company as much as possible.”
“Are you sure I can’t try the remedy I made for them?” Ivy pleaded, dropping her fork with a light clink. “I have it in my purse. All it should do is make them alert. To…clear the fog a bit.”
Betsy chewed her lip, her focus shifting between the three of them around the table. “I don’t know…”
“We both know their conditions are getting worse,” Ivy said bluntly, choking the last word out. “It’s why you need more help. I’m not oblivious.”
“I wasn’t insinuating you were,” Betsy said, turning to face her. “I know how hard the last time was on you. You tried to hide it, but the pain was obvious. And for your parents…whatever memory came to the surface was traumatic, and it took a week for them to return to a calm state.”
“And what if this is the last time I get to see them?”
Previously unspoken words now hung between them, taking up all the air in the room. They’d been skirting around the question for the past year. Neither of them wanted to admit that time was running short.
Betsy sighed. “Alright, only a small dose. If it works as you say, then it could be a shock and upset them.”
“Thank you,” Ivy whispered, pushing herself from the table to rush over to where her purse hung in the hallway. She dug through until she found the small dropper bottle with a pale green liquid inside, then went back to the small dining room.
“What is the remedy made of?”
“Sphinx mane mushroom powder, a few leaves of amber sage, rosemary oil, and lemon balm. I ordered the powder from a local apothecary, who had to outsource it from somewhere in South America. All of these ingredients should increase blood flow to the brain and provide temporary cognitive awareness.” Ivy unscrewed the dropper and drew some of the liquid into the glass pipette.
“I’ll put just a couple of drops on their foreheads instead of the tongue so it’s a little less potent. Just in case it’s too strong for them.”
She squeezed the bulb twice, letting the droplets collect on her thumb, and she swiped the liquid across her mother’s forehead gently.
She murmured an enchantment to encourage the formula to be absorbed by the body, and a faint white glow shimmered on her mother’s skin as she uttered the last word.
Ivy turned to her father, repeating the same steps, and then placed the bottle on the table.
She and Betsy remained silent for a moment, watching for any changes. But their gazes remained distant, their forks scraping slowly against their plates to collect tiny portions of food.
Ivy sighed, bending down between her parents. Even if there were no visual signs, something might still be happening. “Mom? Dad?”
Still nothing.
“I know you can hear me, and I’m hoping you understand what I’m saying,” she said. “I got accepted into graduate school to finish my studies.”
Nothing again.
“I’ll be leaving tomorrow for Arcania Academy.”
Then her mother’s hand moved. It shot out and grasped Ivy’s wrist firmly. Her head turned slowly, her cloudy eyes wide with horror. “No. No. Do-door.” Her voice cracked through the words, barely above a whisper.
Betsy shot up from her chair, rushing over to their side of the table. “What did she say?”
“What?” Ivy brought her other hand to cover her mother’s, brushing smooth circles over the crepey skin.
“Door,” her mother said again, a little louder. “Red door. Door. No.”
“It’ll be okay,” Ivy reassured. “I promise I’ll be okay.”
Her mother’s grip loosened before sliding off completely, and she stared back at her plate, her expression returning to stasis.
“Mom?”
But she said nothing.
Ivy studied her father, whose state remained unchanged. “Maybe if I put more on, then she could say more.” She reached for the bottle, but Betsy covered her hand with her own.
“That’s enough for tonight,” Betsy said softly, nodding her chin at Ivy’s mother. “She’s tired enough as it is.”
Ivy looked closer at her mother and noticed the heavy rise and fall of her chest and the slow blink of her eyelids. “She c—”
“I said no,” Betsy said, her brows curled together. Ivy knew she hated saying it, especially to something like this. “Maybe in the morning.”
“Okay.” The word barely made it past her lips as her hand slipped to her lap.
She swallowed roughly, pushing the stinging threat of tears away.
“I wish I’d gotten her back for just a little longer.
” She wanted to tell her mom how much she loved her and maybe hear it back.
But she’d have to rely on hope and gut feeling that her parents cared, as she had for years now.
“I know,” Betsy said. “If I could give you time with them, I would.”
Ivy rose back to her feet, shuffling back to her chair. What her mother said was a clear warning, but she couldn’t determine how a door could cause concern. It was likely nothing, and her mother was still in a state of confusion. Her stomach twisted. Maybe she shouldn’t write the words off so soon.