I brought a tissue to my face, and something in the movement caused a shooting pain through my arm. I flinched hard, and that caused pain to shoot all across my body. I tensed against the pain.
Dr. Trout moved to my side in a cool, efficient manner that was still incredibly fast. “Relax. Breathe through it. Breathe.”
I took some shaky breaths, and the pain started to subside. After an eternity, the pain no longer controlled my body, and I was left weak. “Ouch.”
“Yes, ouch.” She pressed the button to recline my bed. “I think we have talked enough for now. No one else was hurt. No one died. That is enough for now.” She stated it as a fact, and no one dared to disagree.
“How is Vanessa?” I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t asked sooner.
“I’ve had better days,” came Vanessa’s voice from the door. A few seconds later, she wheeled over to the side of my bed. “I finally convinced that prison guard they call a nurse to let me come over and see you.”
Vanessa was in a wheelchair, with both legs heavily bandaged and one arm wrapped from the shoulder all the way down to her thumb. She had a scrape across her face and a black eye that wasn’t in full bloom but was already pretty scary. The vessels in the white part of her eyes had burst, and the whites were a solid red. One eyebrow was gone. Her head was wrapped, but I could see a bit of singed hair sticking out. The strands were contracted and brittle, dusting down onto her hospital gown like brown confetti.
“Oh, Vanessa, you look terrible,” I blurted out before realizing how it sounded.
She snorted. “If you think I look bad, then I have some bad news: you look twice as bad.”
I raised a shaky hand to my face. I already suspected that I was in rough shape because of the difficulty I had speaking, but what I felt was not even the shape of a face any longer. It was lumpy, swollen, slick from abrasions or crusty with scabs. The face I knew was hidden beneath a mask of skin that I could barely even feel. My lips were swollen and would make a reality-television star jealous with the sheer volume they had. When I ran my hand over my forehead, I felt mostly smooth skin.
“My eyebrows are gone.”
Vanessa nodded. “And I think your hair is too.”
Dr. Trout sighed. “But she is alive and healing well, and that is what really matters.”
“My hair?” It had been down to my butt.
“You still have some. And frankly you should be focused on the fact that you are alive. Vanessa is hurt pretty badly, and she was probably thirty yards away when the explosion went off. You were probably inches away. So let’s just focus on that. Now, everyone, out. It’s time to rest.”
She grabbed the back of Vanessa’s wheelchair and rolled her to the door.
Everyone said their goodbyes as they left, and Dr. Trout turned off the lights as she closed the door. I had so much to think about that I thought I would never fall asleep, but even as I thought it, I slipped into a dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I slept through the night, only coming to consciousness a few times when the nurses checked on me and administered medicine or magic. They checked my vitals, asked me how I was feeling, then allowed me to slide back into sleep.
I fully woke up long enough to eat breakfast, which was made up of things that required no chewing: applesauce, oatmeal, Jell-O, and juice. Everything had a lot of sugar in it, and when it hit my bloodstream, I felt a bit stronger.
I celebrated with a post-breakfast nap, but already I was feeling different. My sleep was punctuated by dreams. Silly, light dreams, like shopping for cucumbers but only finding watermelons or jogging with Patagonia then forgetting where our car was parked. They were mostly noticeable in how mild they were, probably a protection from the dangers I had survived.
When I finally awoke from my morning nap, I had the sensation that someone was in the room, and not just because Patagonia was standing on my chest and staring at something I couldn’t see.
I pressed the button to raise the bed, and as I slowly sat up, Vanessa came into view. Her wheelchair was abandoned, and she was stretched out on a couch under the window. She didn’t notice me, as she was deeply engrossed in her phone.
I stretched my arms over my head. It hurt, but not nearly the breathtaking amount it had the previous evening. Already my injuries were feeling older, and I was getting the itch to move. “You are looking a bit better.”
Vanessa jerked around to look at me. Her black eye was in full bloom, but the scabs were already starting to look more healed. “You’re awake. I thought you were going to sleep the day away. They already checked me out. I’m just waiting to take you home.”
“I can’t believe how much better I feel. I guess it wasn’t as bad as I thought.” I reached down to scratch behind Patagonia’s ears and took the moment to stretch out each leg. Sometime during the night, they had removed the catheter, not an enjoyable experience, and now I felt the urge to use the facilities. “Can you help me to the bathroom?”
Vanessa hopped up then winced. She hobbled over with the help of a cane that was a better fit for a geriatric patient, and once I had my bed adjusted, she put her free arm around me to help me wobble to the bathroom. “You do realize that an overnight stay in the hospital is basically unheard of for a mage. You know what they say: what doesn’t kill you puts you in a hospital for a few hours.”
I chuckled then clutched at my ribs. “No, I hadn’t heard that.” I grabbed onto the safety bar and waited to sit down until Vanessa tottered out of the bathroom. We were close friends, but some things were still private.
She stood with her back to the door, which she left ajar, and spoke back over her shoulder to me. “You gave us all a really good scare. I was pretty hysterical when I woke up in the ambulance. I was sure you were dead. I will never forget the sight of that car exploding. Never.” Her voice was haunted.
“I know what you mean. I thought a little girl was in the car with me when it blew up, and I was pretty inconsolable.” I finished and washed my hands at the sink, pausing when my sight started to fade from light-headedness.
I breathed slowly until my vision was clear again and I got a good look at myself, something I had avoided. I looked about how I felt: puffy, covered in multicolored bruises, and like I was having a really, really, really bad week. Scabs were in their final stage due to a mage’s accelerated healing, especially with all the help I had from potions, and the bruises were in full bloom. The right side of my face was slightly worse than the left, but neither was great.
Even with my hair pulled back in a loose bun, I could tell that a significant amount of it was gone, especially on the side where angry red scalp was exposed. I undid the bun, and the resulting hair was uneven and fell either to my shoulders or bra line but nowhere near the butt length it used to be. The smell of burned hair was overwhelming when it was down. I was probably still in shock because it didn’t bother me as much as I expected. I was alive and so was Vanessa. That was probably enough to ask for right then.
Vanessa grabbed my ribs, and the pain sent my blood pressure soaring, which was what I needed at that moment. “Thanks.”
She started the slow process of helping me back to the bed. “I heard. I knew that you were alone in the car, and I was pretty sure you had lost your mind. Badger kept me, Mom, and Olivia informed. Mom and Olivia visited you several times, but you were always asleep.”
“Did he tell you the whole story?” I wasn’t sure that he was even in the room at the time, but maybe Bear had caught him up. Everything since the bomb was a mush, and I was struggling to keep details clear.
“Yes. Can I admit that I didn’t even know ghosts were, like, real? I knew that theoretically it was possible, but I thought… I guess I just didn’t think it actually happened.” Vanessa helped me back to the bed and used the rail on the side of the bed to maneuver back to the couch, relying on it more than I expected. “Vin wanted me to tell you to quit being so dramatic and get back to work.”
I snor
ted in surprise. That was so Vin, and surprisingly, it warmed me. I settled back into bed, pushing Patagonia over, as she had taken over the center of the bed.
Vanessa collapsed onto the couch with a giant harrumph of air then a groan as she clutched her side. “I feel like a punching bag that got a big workout. How are you doing?”
I closed my eyes and took a slow breath before answering. “I’m exhausted, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt this terrible, but still better than last night.”
She chuckled. “I know what you mean.” She lifted her legs onto the couch and reclined, carefully arranging herself. “I’m acting pretty casual about it, but I was, like, legit freaked out yesterday. Everyone was. You should have been dead instantly, and you weren’t, but… none of us really thought you would make it.” Her voice choked up, and tears were rolling down her face.
I stretched my arm over the side of the bed. “Awww, I’m sorry. Don’t be upset.”
She reached out and squeezed my hand before wiping the tears away with her sleeve. “I just wanted you to know.”
Dr. Trout popped her head in, and when she saw I was up, she stepped inside and closed the door.
Which was surprising since she had just been in a few hours ago and declared me almost ready for release.
She pulled a chair around between my bed and the couch and arranged it to face both Vanessa and me. “How are you guys feeling?” Her tone indicated that she wasn’t asking so much physically as emotionally.
I looked to Vanessa, and she answered first. “Shook up. I was just telling Ella that I really thought she was dead and—” She cut herself off and blinked furiously, leaving the rest unsaid.
Dr. Trout turned her attention to me.
“I’m still processing, I guess. Knowing that Sally didn’t die was a relief, but I feel… conflicted about the idea that she actually died years ago. She seemed happy.” She didn’t seem like what I thought a ghost would be. She wasn’t in endless torment, unable to communicate with the outside world. She loved her mom, and her mom loved her. They had a life together, and maybe Sally was in the right place by her mom’s side. I blew out a long sigh and pulled Patagonia up closer to snuggle her.
She fought a little, twisting in my arms, but eventually settled in, rhythmically digging her claws into my hip as she purred, radiating contentment and happiness.
Dr. Trout startled me a bit when she spoke. “Are you going to continue your investigation into the murder?”
“Why? Do you know something?”
She shifted in her seat and briefly looked uncomfortable. “Maybe.”
She reached into a pocket on her lab coat and pulled out a small notebook. “After you two were stable and no longer scaring me half to death, I went down to the lab to work with Beth. She sends her best, by the way. She insisted we have the bird-nest dessert you guys gave us.
“We started discussing dragon spit and its properties, then she brought up the dragon-heart wine you mentioned. Then we were chatting about the results of the Legacy testing. We were trying to take some guesses as to the mystery components, when suddenly I made the connection between the dessert, the wine, and some of the components in Legacy.”
The same thought hit me as she explained. I faced Vanessa. “Do you still have your notes, specifically the list of unique items that each store carried? The wine, an orchid, you know what I mean.”
Vanessa pulled out a notebook from her purse and passed it to me. “Are they connected to Legacy?”
We both looked at Dr. Trout for an answer.
“I can’t say for sure, but… so far I haven’t found anything to conclusively say it isn’t the wine that is the ingredient in Legacy. The testing won’t be complete for a bit, but so far it is a possibility worth exploring.” She was ever the scientist, unwilling to state with fact anything that was still mostly a gut feeling.
I found the list with the items from each store and copied it onto a blank piece of paper I ripped out. “Monkbird orchid, gold-ink potion, gryphon egg, fire salamander, living-rock dice, and you already know about the dragon spit and the wine. These are the things that we found so far that are ‘special imports’ to the stores. In each case, they insisted they were one of the only places that sold it. Could they be ingredients in Legacy?” I passed her the paper.
She looked it over, her eyebrows knit together in thought. “Obviously I can’t say for sure, but they could be. I’ll need to do more testing. Do they have some in stock?”
I nodded. “Yes, except the wine. We bought that out, but there is still a bottle in the back of my car, wherever that is. All of the stores were complaining because a few months ago the buyers stopped coming in.”
“Ellen might not have any more dragon spit. She was using it up,” Vanessa clarified.
“Oh, that’s right.”
Dr. Trout shook away my mistake. “No problem. I’ll go with Beth later today and pick up some samples to run in the lab. Remember I spoke about how the spell involved in Legacy allows rider spells and how that was related to how DJ Wiz was able to alter it to allow overdoses to occur?”
I nodded along. “Yes.”
“Everything I’ve discussed so far has been in regards to the primary spell, which was responsible for the flood of good emotions that the user experienced. While it is a unique spell, it isn’t that different from other drugs with similar effects. That spell has a distinct user profile from the maker. It’s really, really faded, but it’s there. The secondary spell, the one that siphoned off the magic, is definitely from a second mage. We can tell that much even though the signature is completely gone. It piggybacks onto the spell after the original spell is activated on the pill.”
I frowned at the ceiling. “Can you tell how long it was between the two spells?”
“No, no way to tell. Except… the primary spell is fragile and probably lasts less than six months, so I guess that is the maximum time between the first spell and the second being added.”
“Could the second spell be by the same mage?”
“No, the user profile is definitely different, but I can’t really nail down any details from the second spellmaker. Neither of them are very clear, but there are some really technical details that show me they are two different people. Do you want me to explain?”
I shook my head. If she thought it was too complicated to explain, then I knew it would be over my head.
“Maybe if you get us some more pills?” she asked.
“If I find any, they’re all yours. Could the second spellmaker add it without the first spellmaker knowing?”
“Yes. We know DJ Wiz added a spell later, and based on what he told you, he did it all on his own. But maybe Spellmaker One and Two worked together. Divided up the work.”
“Could you pick up DJ Wiz’s signature on the spell he added?”
“Yes.”
“But not on the second spell, the one that removed the magic from the user?”
“No. That signature was either not very strong, or… okay, it was most likely hidden by something the spellmaker did. Which is smart. Whoever did the original spell tried to hide their signature, but they didn’t do a particularly great job. It was like someone wrote on paper with a pencil then erased, but someone could still pick up the signature when they viewed it at an oblique angle because of the indents in the paper. The second signature was like a drawing on a whiteboard that got wiped away and the board got cleaned. Nothing was left. DJ Wiz was like a permanent marker. Nothing hidden at all. But that is a less technical way to explain how we can tell the mages between the two spells are different.”
“Because you can tell that one was a pencil and the other was a whiteboard marker?”
“Basically, yes. Does any of this help you?”
“Yes and no, not yet. I can tell that you gave me a bunch of pieces to this puzzle, but I have no idea where any of the pieces go. I think I need to sleep on it.” I let out a big yawn.
Dr. Trout got up and went to the call
button and pressed it. “Good news about that. You are clear to go home and rest. Call me if you find anything or start to feel worse or… just for any reason. The nurse will help you to the door, and you are free to go.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I woke up, and it was nighttime, again, but at least this time I was wrapped in my favorite blanket and sleeping on my own couch. Vanessa had driven me home, and after an extended nap, I decided to get up and shower. She had insisted on sitting in my bedroom with the bathroom door ajar. Then if I fell, she could help out.
After an hour of gently washing my sore body and what was left of my hair, I had felt clean and renewed. Vanessa had fallen asleep on my bed, so rather than wake her, I tucked her in and took the couch for another nap.
My dad had been a smart man with a great eye for furniture. Not only was the couch handsome but comfortable. I woke up feeling better than I had since the explosion. Patagonia was a heavy weight on my knees, and my legs felt like they were threatening to buckle backward, but I sensed that wasn’t what had awoken me.
Then the doorbell rang, and my phone and Vanessa’s phone dinged in succession on the kitchen counter. I slowly stood. Though I felt better, I certainly wasn’t a hundred percent. Aching in places I didn’t know I could ache indicated I had a lot of healing left to do. Slipping into my robe, I debated which alert to deal with first. Quick little raps on the door convinced me to deal with that first.
Three quick knocks then a pause followed by two more was hardly proof, but since that was Bear’s normal knock, I wasn’t too shocked to see him at the door. It was a surprise when he said he would wait in the car while Colleen came in to talk to me alone.
I followed Colleen in. She put a small vial on the kitchen counter, next to my purse, in a pile of lipsticks, tissues, loose change, and other debris. Then she sat in the living room, where she made a big show of adjusting the pillows on the chair. If I hadn’t known her to be so calm, I would have assumed she was nervous by the way she was fidgeting.
Nice Day for a Mage Wedding: Casino Witch Mysteries 4 Page 14
