While Sylvia put away the groceries, Henry listened as I told him about our plan, but his smiles were faint, and I could tell he still wasn’t quite himself. “No better?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I guess Eleanor didn’t show up?”
I shook my head. It bothered me to see him so dejected. Come to think of it, he’d been down since we’d arrived in New York and the easy smile I loved so much to see was gone.
“It’s still early. She might still come.”
He didn’t look too convinced. I went to grasp his hand, but he pulled his away, keeping it under the table and out of my reach. I bristled. He’d never shied away from me like that before.
“You know, I think I might have a lie down after all,” he said. “My head isn’t feeling much better. Wake me in an hour or so if I don’t get up.”
Have I done something wrong? He’d never been this cold with me in the past. And he looked funny. I couldn’t put my finger on quite what it was, but something about his appearance was off.
As soon as the bedroom door closed, Sylvia slid into his vacant seat. “Has he been like that for long?” she asked.
I sat up straight, still hurt by his altered behavior. “You noticed?”
“It’s not like I could miss it.”
I leaned over the table and cupped my chin in my hands as I thought about it. “He’s been funny since we got back in town. He was fine on the bus, but then he complained of a headache, and he’s acted weird ever since.”
“Do you remember when he first started to complain?” Sylvia asked.
“He mentioned the headache just a bit ago. But he’s been acting odd since we went to the Abbey. He almost fainted when we got to the gates. I would say it started around then.”
Sylvia bit her lip as she thought. “Well, I didn’t want to alarm anyone, but I’ve known Henry a long time, and I thought there was something weird about his aura when he came in.”
“His aura?” I asked. “Weird? What do you mean, weird? Like broken?”
“Damaged might be a better word. I’ve seen it before with some of my customers at the shop. You said he acted all funny at the Abbey, so tell me, what other enchantments has he been exposed to lately?”
I thought for a minute. “I can’t say for sure. Henry only joined us recently. I sang Catherine’s song to him yesterday. Could that be it?”
Sylvia nodded slowly and sagely. “Quite possibly. The song would have touched his emotions, affecting a similar part of the brain to his father’s spell.”
I gasped. “Oh Gaia, really? It’s damaged his mind?”
Sylvia reached across the table and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing so terrible. It happens all the time. His recent emotional-based memories are affected, that’s all. It’ll pass in time.”
I wasn’t sure whether I should be upset by this. I swallowed a lump in my throat. “His memories? Like he’s forgotten who I am?”
“No,” she said. “He clearly hasn’t forgotten who you are. Or any of us from what I can see. We’d have noticed that sooner. But he’s struggling with something, and from what little I saw, it concerns how he feels about you.” She squeezed my hand tighter as she said this. “He may have forgotten that he loves you,” she said sadly.
“He WHAT?!” I almost flipped the table. Sylvia flinched and made calming gestures, but this was no time for calm. I got up and stamped around the room, enraged by what had happened. First that darn song and then the General’s little surprise at the gates had scrambled my love’s mind. I wanted to scream. I wanted to break things. I wanted to cry.
“Only temporarily. Things will be back to normal soon, I’m sure.”
I wasn’t reassured, and part of me wanted to run in to see Henry, but if he needed to sleep, probably the last thing I ought to do was to wake him. But I needed him so badly.
“There must be something I can do?” I said. “You can’t just forget you love someone.”
Sylvia stood up and walked over to her small computer desk and powered on her laptop. “Let’s see what MagicNet suggests. I use this all the time for stuff, saves having to dig up a ton of old magic books. Hold on, lemme see…”
As I peered over her shoulder, she scrolled through the index of spells and waved her hand dismissively over the ones she considered useless. Then she sat a little straighter and pointed to the screen. “Ah, this might do it. Okay, health warning, a spell of repulsion may have a lasting effect on the unprepared. They might develop a strong belief that Milli Vanilli were the best dance pop duo ever, that airplanes cannot fly because their wings don’t flap, or develop a sudden craving for pickled gherkins. Hmmm.” She pressed a finger to her lip. “That would certainly explain why there are now three jars of pickled gherkins in the fridge. Howling at the moon—no, wait, that’s lycanthropes only. Yada, yada…here it is! Short-term memory loss and jumbled perceptions. Oh dear. Emotional discombobulation may be experienced.”
“What’s that mean?” I asked.
“Turmoil, confusion. It’s not that Henry doesn’t still love you. It’s just that he isn’t sure why, and that’s vexing him. But it does say if the spell is reversed within a couple of days, before they become fossilized, the effects will probably fade quickly.”
“Probably?” I didn’t like how she sounded less sure of herself now. My gaze fixed on the door of the bedroom, and I imagined Henry lying in there. How I ached to wrap my arms around him and hear him whisper everything would be okay and that he still loved me. Perhaps Sylvia was wrong. But I couldn’t argue with how I felt, and in my soul, I knew that she was right.
Sylvia gave me her warmest smile and pushed up from the table. “Look, let him sleep for a bit, and think about Scar. Remember the red squirrel?”
I nodded, recalling that first time I’d visited Sylvia in her house and the squirrel I had summoned with the cookie. “Sure.”
“I have some kitten kibble somewhere in the place. Hold on.” She opened a few cupboard doors and pulled out a box of cat food. She shook it, and as if by magic, Scar woke up and stretched out her paws in a downward-facing fox pose. “Hmm, almost empty, but there should be enough.” She handed me the box. “Why don’t you practice sending Scar on little missions around the apartment and reward her with the kibble? That’ll keep you busy and your mind off…other things. I’m going to make dinner for us all, and then we can plan your attack on the Abbey. Nothing focuses the mind so much as keeping busy—at least, I’ve always thought so. Now what would you like for dinner? I can fix us a French-bread pizza if you’re in the mood for something different. Or how about a nice stew? I’m sure we have enough in for that.”
“Whatever you like,” I said flatly. The last thing I wanted to think about was dinner. Now that Sylvia had mentioned it, I had noticed a wilted grayness about Henry’s aura when he’d returned from the shops, but I’d chalked it up to his headache. “You know, the pizza thing sounds nice. It’s Henry’s favorite, and the taste sensation might jog something. I dunno.”
“Good idea,” Sylvia said. “Now you’re thinking.”
My heart sat in my chest like a lead balloon, but Sylvia was right. Feeling sorry for myself would do nothing. I needed to get Henry out of my mind, and to focus. If reversing the enchantment would bring his love back, then the sooner I fulfilled my promise to his mother’s spirit, the better.
I shook the box of kibble, and Scar hopped up on my lap and onto the table. I popped the first treat into her mouth. Run into the bathroom and grab me some toilet paper, I said in my head, and off she went. While she was gone, I retrieved the cloak Sylvia had given me, and after placing it around my shoulders, I pulled the hood over my eyes. As before, my point of view shifted, and now I watched as Scar used both paws to spin the toilet roll. After tearing the sheets off with her teeth, she scampered back to me, trailing a long sheet of paper behind her, like a scroll.
Sylvia’s eyes practically popped out of her head in surprise. “I must say, I’ve known dozens of familiars, but I’ve never seen one as clever as this little minx. You know, this might actually work.”
I pushed the hood off my face and smiled. “Let’s hope so.”