Page 3 of Bonds of Blood
I nodded in agreement, but said nothing. The shift in tone had been so abrupt. The lightness and cheer of the tea party felt so far behind us, as if it had taken place several days ago.
Cornelius Butterworth shook his head. “Oh, no. Not at all, Marina. We did not mean to alarm you.” He waved a hand around himself. “There’s something about this chamber that impresses a sort of gravity about everything. The same old magic that made this place also infuses it with a darker atmosphere, if you will. I do apologize, but this is the most secure location available to us in the Wispwood.”
Headmaster Belladonna leaned forward. “Cornelius is correct. We do not mean to upset you, though we do have some questions. Have you remembered, for example, how it was that you ended up inside the well in the first place?”
I felt my hand creeping toward my mother, as if to offer her support, but I saw no signs of doubt or fear on her face. Instead she wore the neutral expression of someone who simply didn’t remember. Her memories were returning, but it was going to take time. Time and plenty of rest.
Mom shook her head. “All I can tell you is that I felt safe in there, as though it was the best place for me to be. There was something about the warmth of it, the soothing quiet. Why, it reminds one of the womb. I’m sure that it’s difficult to believe, but I assure you that it was a most comforting environment. I remember at least that I was hesitant to leave. It was so lovely in there.” Her fingers fell across the back of my hand, pressing and squeezing. “But it’s even lovelier out here.”
I squeezed her hand back, grinning. The cold atmosphere of the headmasters’ secret chamber could do nothing to suppress my smile.
“Oh, I believe you,” said the rasping, breezy voice of Headmaster Shivers. “I was born there, after all. I too remember little of my time in the Wispwell. I only know that it was the safest of places for me. At times I wonder how it might feel to plunge once more into its depths.” The headmaster sat back, a plume of mist leaving the opening in their cowl. “But surely attempting to return will do me no good. Would it do good for a child to return to the womb of its mother?”
Headmaster Belladonna’s eyes flew wide open. “I imagine that it would only be accomplished with the greatest of difficulty.”
Dr. Fang covered her mouth to smother a little snort. I did the same, but I only laughed because she started it. Luckily, Belladonna only had dagger-eyes for the good doctor. Right. Serious business. Dr. Fang cleared her throat, nodded, and placed her hands on the table.
“Yes, thank you for telling us what you remember, Marina. This is the first that we’ve been able to speak to you in this capacity, and I do hope that this hasn’t been too taxing in terms of your recovery.”
Again my mother shook her head. “Not at all. Everyone here at the Wispwood has been exceptionally kind to me. Although one thing does come to mind.” She pressed her finger against her bottom lip in thought, then pulled it away again, eyes focusing on the far wall. “I wonder if I was away from my lake for too long.”
Belladonna’s eyebrows went to the top of her forehead. “Your lake? Ah. The body of water that is your birthplace. Your true point of origin. Such is the way of your people, is it not? I have heard that this is similar for many classes of water spirits from around the world. Therusalkafrom the Slavic regions, thekappaof Japan, and many, many others.”
Cornelius stroked his beard. “This is true. For a nature spirit to wander so far from their home or habitat can very well spell debilitation over time, if not death. Did you not take a bit of your lake with you? I have heard of dryads who bring pine cones or garlands of leaves from their home groves, a way to keep them connected to their elemental origins.”
My mother touched a spot at the top of her chest. She glanced down at her neck, her brow furrowing. Somehow I never noticed its absence myself. It had been so long.
“It used to hang on a chain,” she said, tapping the space between her clavicles. “Right there. The tiniest phial of water collected from my home. I knew that my powers would weaken in time if I spent too long away, but I never thought it would make me so ill — or even cause me to come close to death.”
“Mom? So I never knew all this stuff, and — where was your original lake? I think I remember your necklace. Father used to say that you were very religious. He told me it was a little bottle of holy water from some old church you guys visited once.”
Her hand fell to the table again, a tumbling leaf, her forehead still furrowed. “I don’t remember. I honestly don’t.”
“Now, now,” Cornelius said. “It isn’t all that important any longer. You are naturally more than welcome to the waters of the Wispwell should you ever feel the need for habitation or healing. In fact, I imagine it’s possible that you have become tethered to it yourself. A new home for an undine, so to speak.”
Marina laughed. “Then I suppose a little phial of Wispwater around my neck would be in order.” She turned to me, touching my hand again. “Do you think Bruna could help make me one?”
I smiled again. “I’m sure she’d be thrilled, Mom.”
“Oh, indeed,” said Headmaster Shivers. “The resources of the Wispwood are certainly at your disposal, Marina.”
It was hard for me to weigh in my mind why the headmasters were being so generous to my mother. Was it because she was the wife of the allegedly legendary Baylor Wilde? Or was it out of guilt and a sense of duty, from the three headmasters never recognizing that she’d been immersed and asleep down there for so long?
My teeth worried at my lip as I wondered if I bore any ill feelings toward the headmasters. All three of them had referred to the oversight as their own neglect. But I realized that it didn’t matter. Mom needed the time to herself to recover from — well, from whatever it was that had weakened her so much, possibly all this time away from her mysterious home lake.
“It was the dryness,” she said. “This overwhelming sting of brittle dryness that drew me out.” Her fingers curled around the air as she searched for the right words to say. “It was so overpowering, as if someone had brought the very desert itself into the Wispwood.”
“The Withering,” I said. “It happened enough times and so close to the well that it finally lured you out. First it was that old tree, the one that became my guardian. Remember, Dr. Fang? And then it happened again when Ember read the parchment. He says he doesn’t recall much from his experience, only that it was — well, that it was a great sensation of brittle dryness.”
I glanced at my mom, realizing I’d described the Withering in the same words. Was it a coincidence, or was that simply how both she and Ember had experienced the plague’s bizarre effects?
Headmaster Belladonna rapped her knuckles on the table. “Well, suffice to say, we have plenty of Wispwater to cure anyone who requires treatment. Our efforts to empower the Wispwell’s production of water has enabled us to distribute an ample supply throughout the arcane underground.”
“Agreed,” said Dr. Fang. “The residents of the Black Market, the other academies, and beyond — the general public should have little to worry about. The marked decrease in reports of Withering incidents is also very encouraging. Though it does pain me to admit that we have little in the way of finding its true source.”
She looked at me meaningfully, her lips pursed. I shrugged back.
What was I supposed to do? The parchment set itself on fire when Ember read the strange glyphs, the language of the elementals. It was the same piece of parchment that was discovered under the throne of the Queen of Autumn, the curse so powerful that even its presence beneath her feet was enough to transform her with its corruption.
