by Rin Grey
“Hi, Sara. Is Papa awake?”
“Yes, he’s in the living room. Do you want to see him?” She looked at Elizabeth again, but didn’t say anything.
“I’d like to talk to you for a moment first,” Gemma explained. “I have,” she glanced back at Elizabeth, “an old friend of his who would like to talk to him, but I’m not sure how he’s going to react.”
Elizabeth stepped forwards. “Gemma’s being nice saying an old friend. I suspect I’m anything but. I’m Elizabeth Salinga, George and I were married many, many years ago.”
The neutral expression on Sara’s face turned to one of disbelief. Her hand flew to her throat, and Elizabeth could see her pulse beating rapidly. “You can’t be Elizabeth Salinga, you’re too young.”
Elizabeth bit back a sigh, reminding herself that today would be the last time she had to go through this explanation. Hopefully. “I’m afraid I am. I’m a mage you see, so I can prevent aging. I really am seventy-three years old, even though I don’t look it.”
The expression on Sara’s face didn’t change. It was clear she had little experience with mages and didn’t believe a word Elizabeth was saying.
“She’s telling the truth, Sara,” Gemma said quietly. “She really is my mother.”
Gemma’s assertion seemed to go part way towards convincing Sara. The woman looked wary and suddenly nervous. “Gemma, I’m not sure…” she said uncertainly.
“I’m not here to cause trouble,” Elizabeth interrupted. “I just wanted to see George. He deserves an explanation after all these years.”
“She can help him, strengthen his heart,” Gemma interrupted and a look was exchanged between the two women.
George must be in a worse way than Elizabeth had realised.
“I can,” she agreed quickly.
Sara’s expression softened, though there was still doubt in her eyes. “Are you sure we can trust her, Gemma? What if she isn’t who she says she is?”
“She brought Mitch home from the Dome. Jocelyn trusts her. In fact, she’s made her the heir, instead of Mitch,” Gemma added.
That seemed to have an impact on Sara. She looked at them both again for a moment, then nodded, her mind made up. “All right then.” She stepped aside to allow them both inside.
Elizabeth followed Gemma into the house, then paused. “It’s probably a good idea if you talk to George first, Gemma, so it doesn’t come as too much of a shock.”
Gemma nodded, and headed into the room. Sara waited with Elizabeth, the silence uncomfortable.
“Papa,” they heard Gemma say softly.
“Gemma?” George’s voice was weak and shaking, making Elizabeth wince. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Sorry, Papa. Mitch went missing, then we found him and… well, we found someone else too. Or rather, she found us.”
“Who?”
“Mamma,” Gemma said simply.
There was silence in the other room, and Elizabeth wished she could see their faces. She held her breath, until finally George said, “How? Where is she?” He sounded eager, happy. Elizabeth glanced across at Sara just in time to see a shadow of jealousy and pain on her face.
“She’s here, but, Papa…” Gemma’s voice trailed off.
“What is it, Gemma?”
“She’s, well, not as old as you’d expect.” Gemma stumbled over the words.
“What do you mean, not as old?”
“She looks exactly the way she did when she left,” Gemma explained quietly.
Silence again. Then, “What do you mean, she looks the same? That’s not possible.” George’s voice sounded crotchety now, like he suspected someone was making fun of him.
“She’s a mage, Papa.”
There was silence again, the lack of words frustrating Elizabeth. She wished she could at least see their faces, to try to guess what they were thinking.
After a long pause, George said quietly, “That does explain a lot, doesn’t it, Gem?”
“Yes, it does,” Gemma agreed quietly. “Do you want to see her?”
“Do I want to see her? Of course I do. Where is she?”
“Mamma?” Gemma called out.
Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth stepped into the room, steeling herself for what she knew she’d see.
No matter how much she thought she was prepared for this, the reality was harder.
George sat in a padded armchair, gnarled fingers clutching at the crocheted rug over his knees. He had a balding patch on top of his head, and what hair was left was grey and wispy. His eyes though were bright and knowing, and right now they were fixed intently on her.
The look in his eyes was all too familiar. That, at least, hadn’t changed. And her gut twisted at how much she wanted to run from it.
He struggled to rise, pulling feebly at the rug.
For a moment, thoughts of what might have been froze Elizabeth to the spot.
If she hadn’t left, if her magic hadn’t manifested, if Evelyn had recognised it and taught her here—she’d be sitting there beside him. All her magic wouldn’t have helped keep her young without access to the Dome. Only with the magic there could she perform the ritual that prevented her ageing.
The thought was sobering. And guilt inducing. She seemed to have gained all the advantages, and none of the disadvantages. It seemed comically unfair.
“Elizabeth? Is that really you?” George’s voice was uncertain.
Elizabeth pushed the disturbing thoughts aside and strode across the room to take George’s arm as, finally gaining his feet, he teetered and tottered. He clutched at her strength, so frail and weak.
“Of course it’s me.”
She took the moment’s opportunity to send her magic subtly into his body, trying to determine how much damage there was. She was relieved to find that though his heart was weak, it was not defective. It could be strengthened with only a little effort. The rest of his woes were similar, some fluid on the lungs, some minor blockages and thinning of arteries. Nothing she couldn’t fix.
She had been afraid that he might have been so sick she would be unable to help him here, without access to the Dome’s magic, but it appeared that was not the case.
“You don’t need to stand for me, sit down,” she said roughly, relieved that her voice sounded even.
George sank thankfully back into the chair, though he didn’t release her hand. She pulled a chair closer and sat next to him, wondering what to say.
George broke the ice. “I never expected to see you again.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I didn’t exactly plan it either.”
“Gemma was right, you look exactly the same as you did when you left. Except you’ve cut your hair. It suits you.” George stared at her, an expression of wonder on his face that made her distinctly uncomfortable.
It was hard to believe this was the same man she’d married, that she’d shared a bed with. Even though she knew that she was only a year younger than him, the physical differences in age were so obvious, she certainly didn’t feel the same.
They were worlds apart, and for her, at least, the gulf yawned far wider than she’d expected.
This was a large part of why she hadn’t been able to come home. Why staying was going to be almost as hard.
He stared at her a moment longer, then his eyes fell on her sword, and widened a little. “Do you know how to use that?”
Another change, since she’d left. Maybe it was worth playing up on them. She certainly didn’t want him to get any ideas.
She glanced up towards the doorway, where both Gemma and Sara were watching. It had to be as strange for them as it was for her. Gemma had a half smile on her face, but Sara’s face was twisted in an ugly expression of jealousy. As Elizabeth’s eyes met hers, she looked away and walked out of the room.
“I know enough not to hurt myself. I’ve changed more than just a haircut in nearly fifty years,” she said briskly. “Now, before we talk further, there’s something I have to
ask you. I can help you, fix your heart and any other ailments, if you like?”
George stared at her in silent wonder for long enough that she felt compelled to add, “I’m a mage you know.”
He nodded impatiently. “Yes, Gemma said. But… can you really do all that?”
“Piece of cake.”
It would have been in the Dome. Out here it was a little harder, but certainly still well within her capabilities. It would use up almost all her magic, but it wasn’t as if she was going to need it for anything else today.
George looked at her for a moment, then nodded quickly. “Yes, please.”
Elizabeth was glad of the excuse to delay the conversation she knew they had to have.
She put her hand on his chest and sent her magical senses into his body again. Though it wasn’t necessary to be close to the heart for her to work, it would lessen the magical strain. Every little bit counted at this point.
She closed her eyes, as much to block out his eager expression as to allow herself to concentrate, and began to gather her magic.
Though she magically touched his heart, she didn’t begin to repair it yet. If she strengthened it now and it began to pump with renewed vigour, those weak spots in his arteries could burst, killing him instantly. First, she had to find them all and repair them.
She magically followed the flow of blood through his body, stimulating the cells to repair themselves.
Only when she had searched through every vein and artery—twice—did she return to his heart, increasing the blood flow to a higher level, building and strengthening the muscles that powered it.
She bit her lip, not feeling the sting. Her job wasn’t finished yet. She moved on to his lungs, clearing the fluid more slowly and gently than she had done for Digger that fateful day, was it only two days ago? Many of George’s other systems, kidneys, liver and intestines needed minor repairs or strengthening. Elizabeth touched on as much as she could, until she felt her magic draining.
She couldn’t make him young again, or even stop the ageing he was experiencing. All she could do was a patch up job. Even so, by the time she was done, she was physically and mentally exhausted.
She rocked back on her heels, realising only now she had risen from the chair to kneel beside him.
His eyes were bright, his colour more rosy, and his breathing less laboured. His hands, when he reached out to touch her cheek, no longer shook. “I should have believed you, Liz. As soon as I heard the reports of mages appearing all over Asherad, I realised that you’d been telling the truth. You’d been calling out to me for help, and I just thought you were crazy. I’m so sorry.”
Elizabeth felt tears prick the back of her eyelids, and mentally scolded herself. This wasn’t what she was here for. She didn’t deserve his apology, she should be the one apologising.
She pulled back and stood up, saying evenly, “It’ll take a while for you to feel the full effects, you’ll need a few weeks of decent eating to put on some weight, and probably a little longer for your hair to grow out again, but give it time, and you’ll feel like a new man.”
“Liz,” George interrupted softly, and she could see some of his confidence returning with his newfound strength, “Stop avoiding the subject.”
“I didn’t come here to talk about the past, George, what’s done is done.”
“So you’re just going to pretend it didn’t exist? That it didn’t happen?”
That’s exactly what she would have liked to do, but Elizabeth didn’t say that. She’d come here because he was still married to her and she needed to fix that.
Some discussion might be necessary.
“We can’t change what happened in the past, we can only change our future. I’m here because I hear you never filed for divorce.”
“You want to get married again?” For the first time, George’s voice sounded almost accusatory. “That’s why you came back.”
Elizabeth didn’t even need to try to sound convincing when she said, “Hell no. I have no intention of ever marrying again. I’m not the marrying type. You, on the other hand, should.”
George looked taken aback, then he laughed. “You came here to tell me I should get a divorce and marry Sara?”
“Yes. What is so funny about that?” Elizabeth asked defensively.
“That is the last thing I would have expected, that’s all.”
Elizabeth shrugged and said more gently, “It was all so long ago, George. I don’t hold any hard feelings and I hope you don’t either. Sara deserves to have that, don’t you think? You’ve been together what, forty years?”
George nodded. “Forty-two actually.”
“So why the hell did you never get a divorce?”
“Because it meant giving up on you. I’d let you down once by not believing you, and I couldn’t bear to do it again. I wouldn’t have even moved in here except Gemma got so annoyed at me moping around, she threw me out and I had no choice.”
Tears pricked at the back of Elizabeth’s eyes without warning, and she blinked, trying not to let them fall. His words touched her in a way she hadn’t expected. It had never occurred to her that George might have felt guilty about what had happened.
She’d never expected that he would stay married to her out of loyalty, all this time. What had she done to inspire that kind of devotion?
It was far more than she deserved. She certainly hadn’t felt any loyalty to him. The overwhelming feelings she’d had the instant she saw Sean had wiped away any thoughts of him at all.
“So you’ve hung around feeling guilty for forty years?” Elizabeth demanded. “Do you have any idea how idiotic that is?”
“And you? Do you never think about the family you left? Never feel bad about it?”
Elizabeth gave a harsh laugh. “That’s different. I had a reason for feeling guilty. Not only did I leave, I never came back, even after I had control of my magic and could have. I don’t deserve your loyalty.” Elizabeth realised she’d raised her voice, and that Sara was standing next to Gemma in the doorway again, both looking concerned.
She’d forgotten that to them, George was a frail old man. He still looked like one, but she knew that in reality his health was good, and that an argument, letting all this out, would do him a lot of good.
Maybe for both of them.
“Well, why didn’t you come back?” George demanded.
Elizabeth heaved a sigh. He deserved an explanation as much as Gemma had. She just wished she didn’t have to admit her failings all over again.
How could she explain that things had just felt wrong? Oh, not at first, not until after her magic had manifested. And it had continued to feel wrong until the day Sean had found her.
It would have been easy to assume it had changed because he’d taught her to use her magic, but it was more than that. Even after she’d had full control of her magic, the feeling persisted.
Finding Sean, the other mages, and then being part of the Dome, it was the first time that she’d felt like she belonged. Like she was part of something greater than herself.
She’d never been able to walk away from that feeling.
Until Sean had kicked her out.
She’d left then, but the feeling of belonging still lingered. Especially after the king’s little speech.
Even then she hadn’t come back.
She was the one who’d messed it all up. She’d still wake from a dream, just as she had that morning, with the overwhelming feeling she’d made a terrible mistake. She’d thought the feeling would fade in the twenty years since she had last seen him, but though the dreams had become more infrequent, the feeling they inspired hadn’t lessened.
She hadn’t wanted to go into this, but there was no backing out now. “Because, I fell in love with someone else,” she said flatly.
George stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “That doesn’t surprise me. Who is he?”
Why did people keep asking her that, like telling them a name would give them informa
tion about a man they’d never met?
“It doesn’t matter. He… he doesn’t feel the same way about me, so nothing ever came of it, but it was enough, I couldn’t come back, couldn’t return to this life and just continue on as if nothing had happened. And I didn’t know how else to do it.”
George was silent for a long moment, and Elizabeth almost held her breath, hoping she hadn’t pushed him too far. But he had to give up, to move on, before it was too late for him.
He didn’t have very long, even with her magical healing. Ten, maybe twenty years. Better that he not spend that time in regret.
“You didn’t come back because you no longer loved me?” he asked finally.
“Yes,” Elizabeth admitted, for the first time. She hadn’t come back because she no longer loved George, and she hadn’t been able to tell him. He’d been so dear, so kind to her, and loved her so much. She hadn’t wanted to break his heart. So instead, she’d left him hanging for far too long.
“Well, at least we got that out,” George remarked calmly.
Elizabeth gave a wry grin. “I’m sorry. I guess I should have said it years ago. But after a while, it just seemed too hard to come back and explain it all.”
George shrugged. “I probably could have made more of an effort to hunt you down, but I guess I was afraid of hearing it too. So it slipped into a background hum in my mind.” He was silent for a moment, then asked, “Would it have made any difference if I’d believed you?”
Elizabeth hesitated, remembering how alone she’d felt. If George had believed her, she would have clung to him like a drowning sailor. But just as that didn’t help a drowning man, it wouldn’t have helped her.
She’d just have dragged both of them down.
She shook her head. “If I’d stayed, and I might have, then it would have ended badly. I nearly set the house on fire. I had no control over it. It was better that I left.”
It was obvious he had no idea about Evelyn being a mage, and Elizabeth didn’t feel now was the time to enlighten him. Going over the past wasn’t going to help either of them. George needed to move past these regrets and get on with living.
“Better for us, or better for you?” George’s voice was quiet.
