Page 78 of Crossroads Magic
I hesitated. “You’re not a doctor.”
Benedict brought his hands together, one gripping the other fist, as if he was controlling his reaction. “I don’t have an M.D., Anna, but I’ve been a practicing doctor in every other sense, for longer than…for a very long time.”
I dithered. “I don’t think herbs and therapies will help her. She needs an I.V., and saline, and anti-nausea drugs—”
Benedict stepped through the door and gripped my arms. He didn’t squeeze, but his touch silenced me.
“Women have been carrying children throughout history. There are ways to deal with this that don’t depend upon modern derivatives.” His eyes were very dark, and filled with an emotion I couldn’t name right then. “Let me help,” he said softly.
I nodded, and took him up to see Ghaliya.
He settled on the bed beside her and pressed his hand to her hollow cheek. He stayed that way for a long time. Then he looked up at me. “How long has she been like this?”
“She’s been vomiting since she arrived in my apartment, the night you phoned me. Sometimes she could keep a meal down, but not always.”
Benedict nodded. His hand dropped to Ghaliya’s neck, over the pulse. Then he stood up. “There is something I can give her. It might help.”
“Might?”
“She has lost weight. A lot of it. Her metabolism will have slowed. Her electrolytes are severely imbalanced. And the lack of nutrients will impact the child if we can’t reverse the hyperemesis.”
“The what?”
“The vomiting,” he said. “I’ve got most of the ingredients already at home. I’ll mix them and come back.” He stepped around me and left.
I remained by Ghaliya’s bed, watching her, for a long while. I made myself leave, for I could do no good standing there. I went back to the wing chair, and picked up the notebook I had been reading, but didn’t open it.
Instead, I looked up at the picture frames hiding the cupboards. I put the notebook down, and opened the nearest frame and the cupboard door beneath, and stared at the mess of notebooks and document folders.
I closed it and moved onto the next cupboard.
That was the one.
I fished the fat notebook out, closed the cupboard and went back to the chair.
Ghaliya had called them recipes. So did Thamina, in her journals. In my mind, I made myself call them what they were. Spells.
This notebook was nothing less than a grimoire.
I flipped the pages. Thamina had not included dates, nor had she indicated where the spell came from. She had recorded the essentials only. Most of the spells did not have names. Instead, Thamina had described what the spell did.
To induce hiccups.
To light a candle
To extinguish a fire.
To bring rain.
The Unlocking Spell
To change the color of clothing.
There were a lot of spells to deal with devils and demons. More spells to attract money and success. Spells for beauty. Spells to sleep better. Spells to reverse aging.
There were far too few spells that dealt with health and ailments, and most of them were for health issues of a bygone age. Cures for falling sickness, ague, camp fever, dropsy and more.
Then I found it.
