Luna is sitting at the table staring out the window. At my appearance, she bolts to a stand. “Are you okay?”
“Something hit me fast and hard. I’m not well at all.” I press my hand against the edge of the table and rest my weight on it. “It feels like a nasty case of food poisoning.”
“Poisoning of a sort,” Grandma grumbles and emerges from the kitchen with a glass of water. She hands it to me. “You need to hydrate.”
I concede and take a small sip. “I feel as if I just suffered six hundred and sixty-six years of hell and I’m not even halfway toward the exit.” I glance at Luna. “Sorry about this.” I drag a hand over the front of me to infer my wretched state of being. “Did I abandon you for long? It seriously felt like forever with extra days tacked on.”
“Um.” My question appears to catch Luna at a loss, and she glances from me to my grandma to the clock on the wall, and finally to her watch.
“You were in the bathroom for close to thirty minutes,” Grandma says.
“That long?” I groan. Close my eyes. “I need to lie down.”
“Why don’t you rest in one of the bedrooms.” Grandma takes the glass from me and holds on to it.
“Can’t deal with the stairs right now.” I move in slow, miserable motions toward the sofa.
A honk startles me. I glance out the window and note that a car has pulled up along the curb.
“That would be for me.” Luna grabs her bag. “Thank you for your hospitality,” she says to my grandma, then turns to me. “I called my mom while you were in the bathroom. I figured the last thing you need right now is to worry about me.”
“But I don’t mind worrying about you.” I grab her hand with a weak clutch.
A smile warms her face. “Rest and get better. Everything can wait until you are back to your full health.” She wraps me in a loose hug. It doesn’t last nearly long enough. She releases me and heads for the door.
“But…” I mutter.
“Thanks again,” she calls over her shoulder. And then she is gone. Out the door, down the steps, and slipping into the car with her mom.
I shuffle forward and collapse on the sofa.
Grandma pulls the side table closer and sets my water within reach. Drapes a light blanket over the top of me. “I will allow you to rest here for now. When Miri gets home, she will help you climb the stairs.”
I roll my eyes to a close and fall into a restless sleep.
My body is covered in frost. Uncontrollable shivers quake through my system, and I am barely clothed, curled in a ball, sitting on the icy earthen floor somewhere in the arctic tundra. Flash. I’m in an episode of the Twilight Zone. The sun has moved too close to the planet and everything, everyone is melting.
I’m melting.
I’m dying.
“Who’s dying?”
With a jerk into consciousness, I fight the pressure of my weighted eyelids and gaze up at my sister, Miri.
“You look like death, but you are not dying. Not on my watch,” she says.
Chapter Seven
“How do you intend to help me cheat death?” I ask. “You refuse to use your magick.”
“Magick is not the only way to cheat death,” she replies. “Come on.” She motions for me to sit up. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
“I’m perfectly fine right here, thank you very much.” I yank the blanket up to my chin.
“No you’re not.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” I close my eyes. I want to rest them, if only for a moment.
“You’ll be much more comfortable upstairs,” she says. “Grandma already called Mom and told her you’d be staying the night.”
“What?” My eyes pop open.
“Best to keep you safe within the charmed protection of the house.” Miri motions again for me to sit up and I comply, albeit in extremely slow and painful motions.
“And Mom was alright with that?” My head sways, and I brace myself against the side of the sofa. On the ground at my stockinged feet, I notice my shoes neatly set to my left, and to my right, a large empty bowl and damp washcloth.
Someone managed to remove my shoes without causing me to stir. I must have been completely zoned out.
“You’re not well. You need to rest. Mom can’t argue with that. Now, come on. Let’s get you upstairs.” Miri encircles me with a supportive arm, but I wave her away.
“I can walk on my own.” I tug the blanket around me and shuffle toward the stairs. Miri follows with her hands at the ready, acting as if I might tumble backward at any minute.
I climb the stairs slower than Grandma, and Miri leads me to our old room. The upper portion of our bunk bed has been removed, leaving a sad, but currently inviting, little bed. I head straight for it. Crash to the surface.
“I’ve been sleeping in Mike’s old room,” Miri says. “So, you’ll have this room all to yourself tonight.”
“Great.” I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. My stomach twists, and a sharp pain shoots through me. With a moan, I press my hands to my belly.
“Are you alright? Can I get you anything?” Miri leans over me, her hands pressing into the air at her side, searching for a purpose… and necessary action.
“No,” I say, answering both her questions with one word. No, I’m not alright. No, she can’t get me anything. “There isn’t anything you could get me that would help me right now.
“I’m so sorry you’re feeling this way.” She frowns and deep thoughts press into
