Chapter 10 #3
I cringe when she reaches for my ankle. Even the light contact aggravates it.
She brushes over my skin lightly, summoning her magick and murmuring quietly to herself as she concentrates on her spells.
Her hands heat up my already hot, swollen ankle as the magick weaves through me.
It’s an uncomfortable sensation at first like exposing a burn to the scorching midday sun.
The pain steadily ebbs, and the swelling noticeably reduces.
She doesn’t stop until the discoloration turns from blackish to purple to green to yellow, healing before my eyes.
When she’s done, she smiles at me and moves her hands away.
“Give it a test run! But don’t actually run, please,” she encourages with a chuckle as she scoots over to give me space. Guess I really won’t be going with Tallie anytime soon.
Still resting on the stack of pillows, my ankle swivels without painful resistance.
Like she said, it’s not completely healed, but it’s close.
Sitting up straighter and swinging my foot off the pillow, I place it gingerly on the ground next to the healthy one.
So far so good. She holds out her hands to hoist me up from the sofa.
My ankle takes my weight well enough. After a few steps, I feel confident I can walk without difficulty, only minor discomfort.
“So much better! Thank you, Thea. You’re a lifesaver,” I gush as I turn around and walk back toward her.
“Oh, don’t be silly, this was nothing. But you’re quite welcome.
I’m so glad you called me. You may not be fleet of foot quite yet.
The ankle looks good, and the sprain is mostly healed.
I knitted together the partial tear in your ligament, but it still needs a few days rest to fully recover.
I’m on my way to the clinic after this for my shift.
I’ll deliver some pain relief salve afterward.
In the worst timing ever, the last of my jars at home ran out the other day and I haven’t restocked.
Promise me you’ll use this as an excuse to laze about and take it easy today?
Maybe read a good book and drink a glass of wine later to relax?
In fact, I’m officially prescribing it.”
We’re both giggling as we embrace in a brief hug. Her delightfully spiky black hair tickles my cheek as she pulls away.
“Thanks again, and I’ll follow your advice to the letter. I’ve already picked out the book,” I declare.
“The saucier the better!” She winks as she steps out the door onto the porch. We wave goodbye as she hops in her automobile to drive to work.
After shutting the door, I slump against it, relief coursing through me now that there’s only a dull ache in my ankle, hardly noticeable at all.
Footsteps from the kitchen startle me, reminding me of my plan.
I dub it Operation Unsteady the Yeti. Mayhap it needs a better name in the future, but for now that’s what I’ve got.
No sooner than I’ve pushed myself away from the door, do I see his form darken the entry to the kitchen.
“Breakfast is ready. I had not realized your friend would heal you so quickly. I was about to ask her to join us. I made more than enough. And I do not believe anyone else will be coming down soon,” he observes as he turns his head toward the stairs, listening for signs of life and evidently finding none.
“I haven’t seen anyone but Tallie, and she’s out for a while. Thea works quickly. She’s one of our best healers. Don’t feel bad though, this was a detour on her way to work. She probably couldn’t have stayed. Someone else will appreciate the food,” I respond with a shrug, my tone matter of fact.
“How is it? Your ankle? Do you need help to the kitchen?” he asks solicitously as he joins me in the foyer, his gaze sweeping downward at my healed ankle. It takes all my willpower not to roll my eyes.
“No assistance needed, thank you. I need be careful with it for a few days, that’s all.” I offer a faint smile, putting my plan into place.
He narrows his eyes as they fix on my mouth and then back up to meet my gaze. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking. But it seems to work. He nods and smiles back at me with a flash of sharp white teeth.
“That is good news. We should eat before the food gets cold,” he says, using a casual hand to gesture for me to go first.
The aroma of breakfast wafts toward me before I even reach the threshold.
And once I do, the kitchen smells divine.
It sparks a longing in me, to a time when this house was full of life.
So much love and happiness. When was the last time someone cooked just for me in this kitchen?
It’s hard to pinpoint, but likely it was fifteen years ago in the days leading up to, mayhap even the day of, his return to the North Clan.
Fifteen Years Ago
My mom left her workshop in such disarray.
She expected to come home to it. It wouldn’t have crossed her mind I’d have to clean out this space without her.
She would have eventually organized her work in that system that only made sense to her.
I turn over an old pendant, still brimming with her magick.
When my mom worked on it, did she cradle it in her hands like I’m doing now?
It’s illogical, but holding each one, brushing my magick against the last vestiges of hers, makes me feel like she’s still here.
But this was just her work, stock to add to the family shop I was helping her run, nothing inherently special.
So why are they now so important to me? Part of me never wants to sell them.
Horde them in this room forever. The other, more rational, part of me thinks they’re clutter covering up a useful workspace.
Grief is funny like that. Suddenly everything and nothing holds meaning.
Every time I attempt to clean it up, I lose myself in years’ worth of childhood memories of sitting next to her, watching her work, fascinated by all the tools, equipment, and strange objects strewn about. As messy as it looked to me, she always knew where everything was.
When I was old enough to begin practicing spells, we spent many mornings tinkering and experimenting with silly enchantments as she taught me how to make them.
We created one that gave us bright rainbow-hued hair, weightless and floating in all directions, while we wore it.
Another one made everything taste like bubblegum.
Any progress I thought I’d make today halts as I try shaking loose every detail tucked away in my brain.
Even though it’s been a few months since I lost her and my dad, it’s hard to see the point in changing anything here.
This space was hers. It should still be hers.
I don’t know when I’ll ever think of it otherwise.
I don’t know if I want to replace these memories with new ones without her.
A noise in the hallway draws my attention away from the enchantment still clutched in my hands and toward the doorway.
Norrell steps inside, stony faced, his eyes strangely lifeless.
He has stuck by my side since my parents died.
A strong, stoic companion whose love helped prop me up when I was ready to crumble apart in grief.
For all the issues we had the past couple years, he has been unfailingly supportive in this.
“Time must have escaped me. Sorry, my love. I think I’m done for today,” I say with a watery smile.
I set down the items in my hands so I can wipe my eyes.
I came in right after Norrell made lunch for me, but the low light from the window shows many hours have passed.
I shuffle over to hug him. He returns it woodenly, hardly even touching me.
I stare at him, baffled, as I release him, stepping back slightly on account of his tepid response.
Is he angry at me? Did I forget something important?
I’ve been in my own head lately and haven’t been as attentive as usual, but he’s never acted like this before.
“I have news. I was called by my clan to return home. Permanently,” he speaks in a stilted voice. Not his usual cadence.
“Oh,” I gasp, nearly shocked to silence. “When shall we leave?”
“I leave now. I am already packed. I am sorry, Ada, but I am going alone.” He’s acting possessed. This isn’t like him.
“We’re supposed to go together. We already agreed we’d visit,” I remind him, my voice rising in panic.
“We did, but plans change,” he responds, utterly emotionless.
“When are you coming back?” I ask desperately, my hands moving to his chest, caressing him, trying to soften him.
“I am not.” His clipped, cruel answer sends me shaking, my hands now trembling on his shoulders. His hands circle my wrists and move them between us so I’m no longer touching him.
“What? What do you mean? What does that mean for us?” I gulp, my voice weak behind the growing lump in my throat.
“It is for the best that we part ways forever. I am sorry, Ada. I never intended for this to happen.” He looks above me, distance in his expression, as he callously tells me this. My heart stops in my chest.
“But why? What did I do?” I clamor for answers, my voice breaking as I start to sob.
“It has nothing to do with you. My place is with my people, and I must go back. For good. We were always doomed to fail. Our worlds are too different. I should not have led you on.” His words sound rehearsed.