Page 1 of Surviving in Everton

Prologue

Hudson

Iwalk Rowen inside and the receptionist tells us to go on back to the room we were in earlier. Great. No waiting generally means no good news. We make our way to the room, me supporting Rowe’s weight the whole time. I sit back in my seat and pull her down onto my lap again, squeezing her tight, trying to give her some small measure of comfort. I know she’s freaking out inside and I wish there was something I could do to make it better. The door opens and both our heads snap up to see Dr. Johnston walking in carrying a computer.

He sees how I’m holding Rowe, and can tell she’s just barely holding it together. “I’ll get straight to the point. I know you’re freaking out right now and I don’t want to drag this out." He sighs and sets his computer on the table. "Rowen, you have a brain tumor.”

And my heart shatters with those six words.

Sucking in a deep breath, I hold Rowe even tighter. A brain tumor. I knew it was going to be bad, but this sounds so much worse than bad. Rowen is in shock. She’s not moving, not saying anything, even her breathing seems too quiet. I wish now more than ever, that I could read her mind, like Declan can. Her thoughts have to be spinning like crazy right now, but she doesn’t say anything. Just sits on my lap. Unnaturally still.

Chapter 1

Rowen

Rowen, you have a brain tumor. A brain tumor. Brain tumor. Brain tumor.Those words just keep replaying in my head over and over like a broken record. What? Why? How? I want to ask these questions, but I can’t seem to make my mouth work, my tongue too dry and thick. I’m frozen, and no matter how much I tell myself to talk, to ask these vital questions, nothing happens. I can’t. I can’t even open my mouth to squeak out a sound.

I’m sitting on Hudson’s lap, just staring at Dr. Johnston. On a subconscious level, I’m thankful for Hudson holding me together right now, but I can’t even think about that at the moment. My brain just can’t move past that one, life-altering word. Tumor. Dr. Johnston sits in front of me, just waiting for me to say something, to ask the questions I should be asking.

After a while of the three of us sitting in silence, I blink. Then blink again. It’s like my brain is resetting. I can suddenly move. I inhale a deep breath and it rushes back out again. Apparently, my whole body had decided to shut down, not just my brain, because my chest was constricting, and I was starting to get light-headed. It’s a good thing my body came back online when it did, or I would have passed out from lack of oxygen.

I swallow the lump in my throat and take another deep breath, slowly letting it out this time. “What… ummm…” I shake my head, trying to clear it, to find the words I’m looking for. “What do you mean a tumor?” I rush out, heart racing, voice shaking.

Opening his laptop he clicks a few things before turning it to show us. There’s a dark circle over the right part of my brain, right in the middle. Pointing to it, he explains,

“This is a tumor. It’s sitting right on your frontal lobe. That’s the area that controls memory, reasoning, and decision making. You said earlier that you were having some memory problems. This is likely contributing to your symptoms..”

I look at him with wide eyes. “What do you meanis contributing tomy memory problems?”

Sighing, he goes on. “This isn’t a normal brain tumor, Rowen. This is a magic-induced tumor. You got this tumor from the potion you were constantly tricked into drinking. There was too much magic. It did its job, but the leftover magic needed somewhere to go. It appears to have all congregated in this spot.” He points again at the image that has turned my life upside down. “Essentially, it's a ball of magic sitting on your brain.”

“So this magic,” Hudson speaks for the first time since we left the restaurant. “What’s it doing? Just sitting there?”

Dr. Johnston cringes at the question. That’s not a good sign. “Not exactly,” he responds. “It’s not pure magic. It’s still infused with the spell and the user’s intentions, so it will continue to do what it was made to do.”

“You mean the potion she took is still working on her?” Hudson gasps.

“Yes. Not quite the same way, but it is definitely still working. When she first ingested the potion, it was fast-acting. It had the desired effect almost immediately, but whoever made it and gave it to her, didn’t know what they were doing. I’ve seen this kind of thing before, in my books. I’m not sure exactly what potion they used yet, but it seems very similar to one I’ve read about.

“In this other case, the magic remained in the body after the potion was ingested. This would mean the magic user wouldn’t have to give the potion again. All they would have to do is concentrate on their magic inside the victim and tell it to work again. The problem was, instead of doing that, they just continued giving them the same potion over and over. It eventually turned into a tumor, much the same as Rowen’s.”

Hudson and I just sit there in shock. I can’t believe this has happened to another person before.

“Okay, so what happened to that patient?” Hudson asks the same question I’m thinking.

“Well, it took a while, but they were able to figure out what potion was used and reverse it. It helped that they knew who gave them the potion. They were able to figure out easily who made it and then made a counter potion,” he informs us.

“So we can just do that, right? Just make a counter potion and she’ll be fine,” Hudson asserts.

“It’s possible… but the person who gave her the potion is dead, correct? No one knows who actually made it. If you can figure out who made the potion, and exactly how, then yes, you should be able to make a counter potion.”

“And then she’ll be fine right? No more memory loss, or any other problems from this potion?” Hudson prods the doctor.

“I wish I could tell you for sure that everything will be okay, but I can’t, Hudson. There are a lot of what-ifs in this scenario. Let’s take it one step at a time okay? Figure out who made the potion. That’s the first step. I want to monitor you and run some more tests. Today we only did the medical tests, which were helpful, but knowing that it’s a magical tumor, I’d like to give you a full magic exam.”

I nod my head, not trusting myself to speak.

“I know this is a lot to take in, Rowen.” He gives me a sad smile. “We can do it later if you’d like, but it’s very important you get checked for foreign magic.”

---