Page 31 of The Fearless Witch

“Very, my boy. Terminal even,” she said, squeezing my fingers. I shook my head, my heartbeat suddenly racing so fast, I felt like I might puke. I didn’t even realize how hard I squeezed her hand until she groaned.

Alice sighed loudly, while I let go of Margaret, balling my shaking hands into fists.

“Can you do something?” I asked. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Margaret had always been there, from the darkest moments to the happiest ones. She had seen all sides of me, gathered all the broken pieces more than once, and she still kept looking at me with loving eyes. She was the closest thing I had to a real family. I knew that she’d die one day, but this was too sudden, too abrupt, too…

“She’s talking about old age,” Alice said flatly, putting a pair of vials next to the old woman’s head. I closed my eyes, counting to ten, while the words sank in. “The blue tonic will help with the fatigue, and the yellow one with the muscle spasms. Have someone give you one drop every morning and evening since your hands shake too much.” Alice got up to her feet. “I’ll go check on the little girl before I head back.”

I turned to Margaret just as she chuckled.

“It’s not funny,” I scowled.

“Death rarely is, dear boy, but if we don’t greet it with a smile, then we haven’t lived a life worth smiling about.” She brushed her cold, wrinkled fingers over my cheek. “And I have.”

“I’ll feel much better if you stop talking about death like it’s knocking on your door,” I said, glancing over my shoulder when I heard Alice saying goodbye to someone and promising she’d send more medicine. My eyes landed on her slumped shoulders as she headed toward the exit, and I feverishly turned back to Margaret. “I’ll talk to Roman about moving you into the house. This is not acceptable, for any of you. But I need to…”

Margaret patted my hand.

“Go. She looks like she could use your support more than I do. She’s a good woman.”

I opened my mouth to say I’d be back, but I could hear Alice swiftly walking away, so I jumped to my feet and hurried after her. Peter moved to intercept me, but a sharp ‘Later!’ got him stopping in his tracks. I pushed the flopping cloth out of my way, frantically searching for her. When I didn’t see her, I let my senses take over, latching on her scent and following her through the mass of fires and tents.

I caught her just outside the watch perimeter, arranging the things in her bag before adjusting it so she could run. She didn’t seem to hear me approach, or maybe she pretended not to, until I called her name.

“Is something the matter?” she asked distractedly. “I need to go back. Lily needs to be given her medicine in half an—” Her eyes fluttered closed as if she was barely keeping them open.

“I won’t take much of your time. Please,” I said softly, and she swallowed the ‘no’ I could see forming on her lips, nodding instead. Adjusting her bag again, she shifted her weight from one leg to another while waiting for me to speak.

“I…” I had no idea where to start. The moment I watched her stride out of the library with Roman in tow, I realized I barely knew my sister. I knew those eyes and the way her face brightened when she smiled; I knew how she lifted her eyebrow in displeasure or crossed her arms when impatient—just like she was doing now—but I… didn’t know her. Because the sister I knew had a line she would never cross while this person… she went to a vampire’s dungeon, where he held another human being hostage, and she… she looked ready to do whatever she had to to get her to cooperate. Judging by Lily’s improving state, she had succeeded, but I couldn’t exactly ask her that so blatantly.

“How’s Lily?” I said instead, and the foot she had been tapping on the ground stopped.

“She’s… improving. She is human, so it would take longer to heal,” she muttered. “But she will heal. I’ll make sure of it.”

She didn’t meet my eyes as she said that, but I could feel the desperation in her voice. My heart ached for her because that was a feeling I knew all too well. I’d barely had a mate for a few months, but the amount of worry and fear I felt for her had probably shortened my lifespan by a few decades.

“How… how did it work, exactly?” I asked, and Alice’s dull eyes finally met mine. “Healing her, I mean. You said you’d need a witch, but now you’re saying there is a medicine…” I threw my hands in the air, making a confused face. I didn’t have to fake that one. I had no idea what she was doing. I had seen people be hexed and in most cases, it never ended well, but from the way my sister talked, she was pretty confident she would succeed.

Alice’s throat bobbed. She opened her mouth to speak, but then promptly closed it like she had changed her mind. In the end, she said with a sigh. “The hex was removed with a counterspell, which killed the parasite inside. However, that thing had to be taken out of her, which is where the medicine comes in.”

Her voice changed, and I wasn’t sure if she even realized, becoming more stable and assured. Practical, clinic, dead, were the words I could use for it in comparison with the trembling timbre I so clearly remembered from when she kneeled by her mate’s body and explained the situation to us.

“I couldn’t cut her open to take it out since it had spread to all of her organs, so I had to make it come out by itself,” she paused, searching my face as if to make sure I was following, then continued. “I used a concoction from calendula, thyme, diluted dragon blood, and Chimera Bone Ash that enters the blood and purifies it. It degrades the magic and turns it tangible, and then the body pushes it out through its pores.”

I stared at her with an open mouth. Degrades the magic? Turns it tangible? Pushes it out through the pores? How… was that even possible?

“That’s… impressive,” was all I managed to say. A faint blush spread over her cheeks before she cleared her throat and looked away.

“Not really, it’s one of the most basic techniques the sisters taught me for cleansing the body.” She shrugged one shoulder. “It doesn’t work on witches, though, since they are constantly replenishing their magic supplies, especially when unconscious.” When I said nothing, she added. “Sometimes, the simplest way is the best way.”

I smiled in agreement. “I’m glad she’s improving and that you’re able to see her. I hope I get to know her soon, too.” The flush returned, deeper this time, and she nodded, turning to leave. I stared at the tightness in her shoulders, at her jerky movements and the sweat beating at her brow. Any other time, I might have ignored it or said it was the exhaustion taking its toll on her. But ever since we were reunited, Alice had found excuse after excuse to be around me. Not once had she shown eagerness to leave. And while I understood her urge to return to her mate, I doubted that’s what made her so uncomfortable.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I asked. “What happened in that dungeon, Alice?”

Her back stiffened, and I could hear her heartbeat racing. For a few impossibly long moments, the only sound came from the voices in the camp not too far away.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, brother,” she said so quietly that even I had to strain to hear her. She moved to leave again.

“But I do want to know,” I insisted, and she paused again. “I want to know you, Alice. The person you’ve become after all this time. I want to know everything about you. The good and the bad that made you who you are today.”

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