Lives of Magic (Seven Wanderers Trilogy) (24 page)

While our photographer walked over to the camera to prepare it, I peered up at Kian. The outfit he wore matched him perfectly but something was missing. I looked over the table of accessories and chose a silver crown to put on top of his head. It settled on his black hair.

Kian looked at me with a question in his eyes, but I shrugged and led him over to the fake throne room screen. It was a challenge to get him to look remotely comfortable with posing and having his picture taken, but ten minutes later we walked out of the tent with a dozen wallet-sized photos.

It was a short walk back to the entrance where Garrison and Moira waited for us. We spent another while walking around together and had lunch at a booth selling turkey legs far bigger than would fit in my mouth.

I showed Garrison the pictures, and he also raised his eyebrows at me.

“What?” I asked defensively. “My idea of fun isn’t being thrown around from one place to another by a machine.”

“It was pretty awesome,” he said.

When the crowd began to grow even larger and the lazy people who liked to sleep in on weekends got around to getting to the fair, we left.

Again, I found my heart hammering in my chest. The anticipation of seeing Seth was making me nervous, and I couldn’t figure out why.

It was like déjà vu when we walked into the hospital for the second time that day. It was early afternoon and the nurses who knew us did not say anything but just watched our procession move along the hall.

We made our way to the fourth floor where I suddenly found my legs heavier than they were a moment ago. My pace slowed and I felt my hesitance slow me down like I was walking in syrup.

While the others seemed eager and sped up as we saw Seth awake and sitting up in his bed, I walked slower until I stopped outside his room. When a nurse approached me, I was thankful for the distraction.

“Only three at a time,” she told me.

Her mouth was set in a straight line and I could tell she was preparing for an argument. Surprising her, I moved to sit in one of the plastic chairs and wait.

Kian turned around at the door.

“Go on,” I told him. “I don’t mind waiting.” He smiled and moved inside, closing the door.

Satisfied I wasn’t going to run in at the last second, the nurse left me in my seat and went to sort files. I let my eyes drift to the various little monitors and TV screens, the magazines arranged in a neat fan on the coffee table, and the humming vending machines. I didn’t want to think about what I would say to Seth in case he was angry and I would have to think of a whole new strategy.

I didn’t know how long had passed when the other three filed out, and I walked in. My pulse was thundering until I saw Seth’s face.

Though still wary, I relaxed upon seeing his broad smile. There was colour to his skin again and he sat up, gesturing animatedly for me to sit. His black hair was neat and his cheeks were flushed. Most importantly, his hazel eyes had come alive once more. I realized I had been worried about seeing him as he was before we brought him to the hospital. My fears lay in him not returning to his former self, but those looked to be unfounded.

I picked my way through some kind of peel which surrounded his bed.

“Keeping busy?” I asked.

“Bored. To. Death.” Seth emphasized this by mock keeling over onto his pillows. He was up again in an instant. It was nice to see him with so much energy.

“Kian said you’ve been practicing all kinds of fighting techniques,” Seth said with a skeptical look. He had hated the training as much as I did. Only Garrison seemed to revel in it.

I laughed, telling him about what had been going on. I guessed he was hearing it all for the second time, but he listened patiently.

“What’s this about you being attacked?” Seth asked, concern lacing his voice. The conversation had moved to something I didn’t want to relive, so I changed the subject.

“What’s that?” I asked, pointing to the mess on the floor. “Have they got you peeling potatoes?”

Seth gave me a stern look for changing the subject but let it go. He smiled and opened a drawer in the little table next to his bed. “I got so bored in here that I begged for someone to bring me something to do!” he said, taking out a small shape. “A doctor here brought me some wood and a carver.”

I froze in place.

The figurine of a lion he produced was not identical to the one I had seen in my former husband’s neck, but it was similar. I knew now where it came from. The image of the man from two thousand years ago with his throat sliced open by the wooden figurine filled my mind.

S
eth was still talking. “He uses logs to heat his house so he had lots of wood lying around. I tried to make a horse but I messed up the mane so now it’s a lion. Whittling is kind of cool. Maybe I’ll be a whittler.”

The colour must have drained from my face because he stopped and hastily lowered the figurine.

“It’s not
that
bad, Gwen. You’re supposed to laugh at me and tell me that it’s not a profitable endeavour.”

I tried searching for words, any words that would make him not worry, but it was too late.

“What’s the matter?” His tone had lost its joviality.

“Nothing,” I lied.

He fixed me with a stare and I melted under the pressure.

“I think I’ve seen those wooden figurines in my memories,” I told him slowly.

Seth looked down at the lion, frowning. It wasn’t a masterpiece, but it was certainly better than a first attempt. I could see his brow crease and felt a slight tingle of magic pulsing off of him. He was trying to remember. Finally, he looked up at me, sweat shining on his forehead.

“Nope,” he said, and then shrugged. “I can’t sense particularly doing this ever before. But I kind of like it.”

“Keep at it,” I suggested, not wanting to be totally unsupportive. “Make me a …” I thought about it for a moment.

“Seahorse?” Seth suggested.

“Sure.”

We talked for another ten minutes, and all the while I tried to steady my nerves. I didn’t want to let the shock of realization show on my face. But it was clear that Seth had made the wooden figurine, and somehow it had ended up in my husband’s throat.

Augren
, I thought. That was his name, and it brought back no pleasant memories.

The nurse, who claimed Seth needed to rest if we could pick him up tomorrow afternoon, eventually shooed me out. We piled back into the little car and returned to the hotel. It felt disappointing to be returning without Seth, but at least he was better.

We still had some hours of sunlight left, and I dreaded how Kian would make us fill the time. Sure enough, when we climbed out and headed towards the hotel, Kian announced he expected us to meet him in the courtyard in ten minutes.

The wind had a bite to it and the sun from earlier in the day had disappeared behind clouds. I watched the sky move from comforting to gloomy. In my room, I put on two pairs of pants, two t-shirts, and one sweater. Feeling a little larger than normal, I at least had warmth. Moira watched me, amused.

“I hate the cold,” I told her, settling my red knit hat over my head.

“You know, maybe if you suggested something else Kian and you could do together, he wouldn’t torture you with all this fighting.”

I gaped at her, opening and closing my mouth, wanting to rebuke. Her remarks caught me completely by surprise. Though we had been sharing a room for weeks, I still felt like Moira was a stranger, keeping herself closed off and remote. I hadn’t considered that she might observe me like I was observing her.

“Exactly,” Moira stated, satisfied with herself.

Slowly, my cheeks grew red and I wasn’t sure if it was due to heat or embarrassment. I wondered if Seth knew about her and bit my tongue when I opened my mouth to ask. She would become suspicious if I carried on about it, and her suspicion might cause her to remember sooner.

Deciding silence was the best course of action, I put on my boots and went outside, with Moira following me. As per usual, she stopped at the gate to watch while I joined Garrison and Kian in the gravel courtyard.

As I came towards them, Kian suddenly moved to my left and held my arm in a tight grip.

“Hey!” I exclaimed.

He held it balanced at the point before the discomfort became pain. Kian let me go and stepped back.

“We’re going to learn how to defend ourselves,” he announced, smiling.

We had already done some of what he called grappling, which I referred to as my being tossed to the ground over and over again. Towering over me, Garrison had managed to knock me off balance quite a few times.

Kian showed us a few ways to get out of people holding or grabbing you. He taught us four grips and how to break them. When the sun was beginning to set, and every joint in my upper body hurt, he moved towards me again. Hugging me at the waist, Kian lifted me off the ground like some kind of Viking claiming his prize.

“Now how would you get out of this?” he asked.

I wiggled in vain as his grip tightened. Garrison shrugged and I admitted I didn’t know. Kian put me down in a huff.

“You need to learn this stuff!” he exclaimed. “What if you need it? What if someone grabs you and you can’t do anything about it?”

I yell for help
, I thought. A well of guilt sprang up in my mind when I realized I had become so used to Kian’s presence that I relied on his help. I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to be strong enough. Chastising myself for complaining so much, I vowed to learn. After another hour, I tripped Garrison and he landed in the dirt. A surprised look flitted over his face before a wide grin spread.

“Good job!” he said as I held out a hand to help him up. He took it and stood, dusting the gravel off his pants. Even Kian smiled at me.

“It’s a good beginning,” he said. “It may be time for dinner.”

At the thought of food, my mouth watered and I gratefully agreed. Moira had been reading a book and joined Garrison in going to the pub to place our orders. Kian showed me how to get out of another grip in the meantime.

“If I grab your shoulder here,” he showed me by placing his hand in the groove between my left shoulder and neck, “you take your arm from the same side, lift it, and trap my hand.”

I did as he showed me, rolling my arm over his in order to trap it. It worked and his knees buckled.

“Now,” Kian said from his compromised position, “you have the advantage.”

We ate our dinner in relative silence due to exhaustion. When we were nearly done, Garrison and Moira eyed each other conspicuously. I was the first to notice.

“What?” I asked.

Moira made eyes at Garrison, urging him to speak first.

“There’s a trivia night with music down at the pub tonight, and …” Garrison waited for me to get the hint but I didn’t. “We wanted to go,” he finished.

I understood. They wanted to have fun but knew I wouldn’t come. I felt guilty for their worry about leaving me alone.

“Go,” I said. “It’s no problem.”

When we had cleared the food off the beds and into the bin down the hall, Moira grabbed her coat and Garrison left to get his. Kian remained firmly planted on the hotel bed.

“Aren’t you going?” I asked.

Kian shook his head. “And miss watching hotel movies?” he asked. “Unlikely.”

I wanted to kick myself for how excited I was not to be spending the night alone. Spending time in his company had made me soft. I briefly wondered what had happened to the old Gwen who spent every day alone, not caring either way. But then I remembered Kian was waiting for me to choose a movie and I went to do that, letting all thoughts of the previous Gwen escape from my mind.

It wasn’t long before my excitement ran out and I was exhausted from the day’s activity. While we watched a movie about a bank heist, I slowly drifted in and out of consciousness. We were sitting on the ground in front of the television and before I knew it my head had drooped to the side.

I gave in to fatigue and let my eyes close. I opened them again briefly when Kian took me underneath my arms and lifted me so that I could get on the bed. I scooted to find my pillow and was asleep in minutes. I wasn’t sure if he finished the movie, but I awoke again to see Kian settling in beside me, and I didn’t protest when he drooped an arm over me and fell asleep.

Extreme heat touched my skin. I felt my legs moving, and despite the pain I knew I was running towards the flames. The pounding of pressure in my head was like an onslaught against all of my senses, and I realized that for the first time I had to strain to decipher my past self’s emotions. What was I doing?

Pain. Anger. Guilt. Fear. Regret. The emotions pulsed through me like a heartbeat. Tears streamed down my face as I ran. I smelled burning hair, singed skin, and felt as if I breathed fire.

The landscape streamed by me and I did not notice it. Voices called out, some angry and some concerned, but I ignored them. My eyes were set on the fire, a wall of it rising high above me.

My anticipation, my magic, all went towards getting through the fire. I had never encountered such a force. Never seen flames this high. Grief welled in my heart as I approached it, knowing what I would do. It had called to me and reached for me, knowing I would come. Now I was here and it would swallow me. I would not reach the other side.

I awoke gasping. Already, I was searching for the flames on my body and choking on the smoke filling my lungs. I sat up, hacking and sputtering, even as Kian ran to bring me water from the bathroom tap. I took the plastic cup and drank, the cold liquid soothing my raw throat.

When I calmed enough to look around, I realized I had set nothing on fire this time. Either I was gaining more control or it really was just a dream. The only light in the room came from the electric sign outside the pub and the open shutters revealing a full moon. The digital alarm clock showed that it was just past midnight. I could hear the slight sound of music coming from outside.

“Are you alright?” Kian asked. I could tell he was staring at me in the darkness.

I could only see his eyes glinting. He sat next to me on my bed. The TV was blacked out but still on. I assumed we had both fallen asleep while watching the movie. He got up and turned on the lights. Though the sudden brightness hurt my eyes, it helped alleviate the feeling that I was about to fall into my nightmare again.

“I think it was just a nightmare,” I said.

“What about?”

I thought about how much to tell him. The emotions associated with my dream stayed with me even now that I was awake, and it was challenging to tear myself away from them. I got up hesitantly and hugged Kian where he stood.

As I wrapped my arms around his neck, I felt his hesitance and held my breath, but he returned the hug. I relaxed in his hold and relished the fact that I was not in my past life or in my dream. I was here.

Eventually, Kian offered to make me one of his teas and I rushed to assure him it wasn’t necessary. We began another movie and sleep eluded me. Moira came back and Kian left. Long after she’d turned out the light and fallen asleep, I drifted off, dreading what I would encounter in my sleep.

I awoke refreshed halfway through the morning. Embarrassed, I saw that I had slept nearly into the afternoon. Moira was gone with a note that she and the others were down in the courtyard. I lay for a while, thankful for the lack of nightmares. In a few hours we would go pick up Seth and everything would be back to normal.

Lazily, I drew open the curtains and looked down at the courtyard. The sun kept peeking out from in between the clouds and the scene below me looked dreary. Kian and Garrison were shooting at the garden shed again. I watched them for a while, noting how graceful they both looked. I wondered if I ever looked like that.