The next day, I awoke with every single one of my muscles aching and on fire. Keir had stayed with me until the gnomes had finished their work, but I’d just been so tired and worn out, that I’d told him to go so I could get some sleep. He’d been reluctant, but I’d insisted. And now, after a good twelve hours of sleep, I hurt in places I didn’t even know I could hurt. I groaned as I rolled sideways on my bed, my arms refusing to have any part of the process. Fighting a troll had taken its toll on me. So I lay there for a long moment contemplating whether to keep trying or just pee the bed.
I’d paid a lot of money for the mattress shortly after Evan had moved out. I didn’t want to sleep in our bed, not with the Evan-sized dent on what had been his side. Nope. So, I dragged the mattress, by myself, out to the street curb the next day. My dad brought his truck over that afternoon and hauled it away for me. After, he took me shopping for a new one. I’d spent half the money in my savings account on a top-of-the-line foam mattress, guaranteed not to lose its shape for twenty years. It was the mattress I’d wanted years earlier, but Evan had said it was a luxury we couldn’t afford since my work was so unstable.
Evan could bite me. My new bed was like sleeping on a hug, and I didn’t regret one damn dime. And there was one other feature about the bed that I loved. I reached over to the nightstand, grabbed the remote control that I never used, and held down the top button. The head of the bed slowly began to rise. When it was all the way up, I managed to stand. I felt almost as victorious as I had when I’d defeated the troll. Until I started walking. Oh, damn, I would never ever snicker at my dad when he complained of achy joints. If he hurt even a fraction of what I did, the man deserved a medal for getting out of bed every morning.
I’d been so distracted by the pain that I hadn’t noticed my barky arm was no longer covered in the gray, husky material. The tub potion must’ve worked. I let out a squee of joy, then dialed it back as I peed a little. Note to self: No celebrating until the bladder is empty.
With a lot of effort and a fair amount of cussing, I managed my morning routine of showering, brushing my teeth, sort of combing my hair—it was impossible to get my arms over my head—before dressing myself and starting the coffee pot. Bob followed me the whole time, vocally cheering me on with a lot of chirps and trills. When I got settled in with my first cup of java, I took two Tylenol and two ibuprofens and waited for the pain relievers to blissfully kick in.
Unfortunately, my doorbell rang before that happened. I wasn’t expecting guests, and after the last few days, I wasn’t looking forward to any more surprises.
I pulled the curtain back and peeked out the living room window to determine if I would treat my caller like a meat salesman with a refrigerator truck full of freezer-burned steaks he needed to sell to make his quota and pretend no one was home.
I recognized the short red hair and dorky glasses right away. It was my brother Rowan. I sighed. Although the bark was gone, I had bruises up and down my arms. On top of that, I had a swollen nose and two black eyes from when the rock troll had thrown me into the fence. If Rowan saw me like this, he was totally going to get all Doctor Everlee on me. He knocked again.
“Iris,” he shouted. “Are you home?”
I hated ignoring my brother, but I played all the conversations out in my head as to why I looked like I got jumped in an alley. All of them ended with him calling the police on my behalf. I didn’t want any cops sniffing around my property because what I had hidden in the backyard was a total stink bomb. At least I didn’t stink anymore. After I bathed—twice--in the concoction Keir had suggested, I no longer smelled like troll guts.
“Iris!” He knocked harder.
Damn it, man, get a clue! I’d known when I’d asked him to order the drug screen for me two days ago that he’d worry. I could only imagine where his mind would go thinking I’d been drugged and beaten. Unfortunately, he wasn’t going away.
My phone rang. Crap. I went to retrieve it from the kitchen. It was Rowan, of course. And now he’d probably heard my phone ring, giving him even more evidence I was home.
I looked around my kitchen and considered escaping out the back to hide in the garden, but I knew that would be the next place Rowan went when I didn’t answer my phone. I saw the essential oils, lavender and tea tree next to the peppermint oil I’d used for the clarification spell. Linda had said lavender and tea tree were both excellent for healing wounds. Did bruises count? I hoped so.
I knew the oils should be diluted, but I was desperate as I dotted each onto my arms, chest, neck, and face. I focused my intention. I didn’t want my brother to worry about me. I didn’t want him mixed up in any of this magic business. I wanted him and the rest of the people I cared about safe. The only way that was happening was for me to get my crap under control.
“Lavender and tea tree, listen to me-me.” I rolled my eyes at my terrible rhyme as I continued to dab the oils on my skin. “To be perfectly clear, for the people I care, make these bruises disappear.” It wasn’t Shakespeare, but I hoped it would do.
A knock at my back window startled me, and I dropped the tea tree bottle on the tile. Some of the oil shot out of the tip, but the amber glass didn’t break. Whew.
“Iris,” my brother said, obvious concern on his face. “Let me in.”
I grimaced. How was I going to explain my face and arms? Since hiding wasn’t an option, I unlocked the back door and let him in. I waited for his million questions, but he only asked one.
“Why does it stink in here?”
Crap on a candle. Could he smell the troll guts? I’d tried Keir remedy, and I thought it had worked. Had I just acclimated? I mean, it happened. Michael never thought his room smelled like a cesspit.
“I…well. You see there was this skunk and—”
“Skunk? When did skunks start smelling like lavender and antiseptic?”
Ohhh. He’d sniffed out the essential oils. “I heard they were good for stress,” I told him. He hadn’t said anything about the bruises, even though, when I looked at my reflection in the window, I could still see them. Weird. “So, bro, what brings you by?”
My brother was not a tall man. He only stood about five-eight, a few inches taller than me. His dark hair was thinning, the lines around his eyes had deepened over the years, and he had a cute little tummy pooch. My sisters and I would give the Buddha a pat on family poker nights. It drove Rowan nuts, but we thought it was funny. He was also one of the sweetest men on the planet. Which is why the severe look of concern on his face worried me.
He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Iris, I got your blood work back, and I need to talk to you about the results.”
I’d already stopped thinking I’d been drugged, but if he was here personally to bring me bad news, maybe there’d been some merit to my initial beliefs. “What did you find? Was it LSD? PCP? Tell me.”
“The drug panels, blood and urine, came back clean.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I don’t see the problem then.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry. I was worried about you, so I sent an order to the hospital lab to also do a complete chemical profile on your blood and urinalysis along with the drug screens.”
I narrowed my eyes on him. “Ro, that’s not what I asked you for.”
“You told me you thought you might have accidentally been drugged. You’ve had a wretched year, and I was concerned about you. I talked to Dahlia—”
“You what?” Anger thinned my lips. “You had no right, Rowan.”
“I know, but I’m your brother, and I’m worried about you. We all are.”
Apparently, my siblings had been holding Iris Meetings behind my back. “I’m excellent,” I lied. Because I was anything but. “I don’t need you all butting in. I mean, I love you, but this is my life.” I’d heard the expression “blood boiling mad” before, but as my body burned with anger, I finally understood the term. “If that’s all. You can go.”
He lowered his gaze. “That’s not all.” He gestured to my kitchen table. “I think you need to sit down for this.”
Bob vaulted to the counter and bumped me with his head.
Rowan didn’t comment on the cat, so I knew his news must be dire. “Is it cancer?”
He shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like this before, Iris. I want to start by retesting your blood.”
“What did you find?”
“First, your white blood cell count is through the roof. Have you been running fevers this past week?” He reached out and touched my forehead with the back of his hand. “You feel hot right now.”
“That’s rage,” I told him.
He frowned and arched his brow. “Your lymphocytes, monocytes, and your basophils are a hundred times the normal limit. Your body is fighting against something really hard.”
Magic, I thought. My body is fighting the magic. No wonder I felt like crap, other than the obvious troll beat down.
“Even more concerning is your chemical profile. The calcium in your blood is high, which can signify heart disease. Your potassium levels, magnesium levels, and sodium levels are something I’ve never seen before. I couldn’t even find a single illness or disease that would cause all these to be so elevated.”
Everything he’d listed off was minerals, like the kind you find in the Earth. My stomach sank. This had to be what happened to a body as wild Earth magic took over. It was burning me up. The extra minerals were the beginning of dust. Even with my successful spells yesterday, I hadn’t really mastered a damn thing, had I? The results were looking pretty conclusive. The super moon and lunar eclipse was tomorrow night, and I was going to end up a pile of ash for the rest of the magic world to divide into lines and snort right up.
“Someone had to screw up the tests,” I said. “I feel great.” I stretched my arms up, trying to hide my grimace of pain. It must have worked because Rowan didn’t seem to notice.
“I want you to get tested again.”
“Come on. With those numbers, I’d probably be dead already, right?”
The tension around his eyes didn’t ease, but he nodded. “That’s true. But still. I’d feel better if you would just do them again.”
“Fine,” I said. “You order them, and I’ll go in on Tuesday and take the tests.”
“Why not tomorrow?” he asked.
“I have plans tomorrow that I can’t cancel.” Dust Day was nearly upon me. “If I start feeling bad, I’ll go to the emergency room, okay?” I hoped my tone was calm and reassuring because the voice in my brain was anything but. “And speaking of plans, I have to get ready. I’m meeting a friend.”
“A guy friend?” my brother asked.
“Seriously, Ro. Not you too.”
“I checked in with Michael yesterday.” I knew that he and Rowan talked occasionally. I was glad my brother had stepped up for my son when he didn’t feel comfortable talking to his father or me. “He says you are doing some freelance editing for some guy that was here at the house on Friday. Then Marigold told me it was for her friend. Keir Quinn?” He said Keir’s name as if it was a question.
“Yes, yeah,” I said. “I have to go to his place to nail down the details of the contract. It’s a good gig, though.”
Rowan, after a few more minutes of reassurance that I would redo the tests and that I would call him or go to the emergency room if I got as much as a splinter, left.
And so, I wouldn’t be a complete liar, I called Keir.
He answered on the first ring. “I’m in town,” he said. “I can swing by and get you.”
I nodded numbly. So much had happened in the last four days, from the divorce to finding out I was a witch who might die, dealing with ex-husband BS, killing a troll, and now, proof that my body was failing me.
He must’ve seen my decision in one of his visions because he said, “I’ll be at your house in five.”