Mark drove and Rachael sat in the passenger seat so Emily could lay in the back on Marcy allowing her and Olivia to help. Emily was faint and feverish, sweating coldly and breathing heavily. The bullet in her back had missed anything vital but was causing bleeding that was only getting worse by the second. The same could be said about the pellets in her leg. They needed to be removed.
Marcy was the first to operate. She pressed two fingers into the wound. Her pointed nails cut through the skin and tissue like a scalpel which made reaching inside easy. The bullet was pinched and extracted. The pellets were then also removed.
Olivia went to work next. She was not a medical expert by any means but did know how to sew and the wounds needed stitches. Of the many odd and specific items brought along as well as stashed in the car, a needle and thread had been among them.
There was nothing to alleviate the pain leaving Emily to willpower through the entire experience.
Mark carried Emily through the front door of their house with everybody else following right behind.
“Bring her to the back room,” Rachael ordered. “Place her on the table. I can set up a ward.”
Marcy and Olivia did not follow to the back. They had already done as much as they could to help and did not want to get in the way. Now, only Rachael could fix what was left.
For Olivia, the panicked escape and unexpected surgery had been a surprisingly good distraction. Not just to help her put her kidnapping in the back of her mind, but to alleviate her feelings of unexpected misery. Now left to just stand around, she was becoming dejected even though she believed she should have been feeling nothing but relief.
“What’s on your mind?” Marcy could tell something was wrong.
“What?” as if caught off guard by the question. “Uh … oh. I’m … grateful you saved me.”
“But?”
“I feel bad,” Olivia admitted. “I feel like this is my fault.”
“It’s not,” Marcy said so matter-of-factly. “Though, if you need, I could make a detailed explanation why it’s not.”
Olivia gave a genuine, exhaled chuckle at the unintentional funniness. “I could use that, honestly.”
“Well, wasn’t Rachael the one that involved you in the first place?” Marcy began her series of reasons.
“Well, yeah—” that was technically the truth.
“And I didn’t mention my history with Witch Hunters.”
“You couldn’t—” Olivia knew about the Curse of Silence.
“And none of us could have known they would attack at the same time everything else was going on. It was also our decision to save you knowing the risks. You’re also not a fledged Witch like us, so you don’t have the skills to protect yourself—”
“But that’s the problem,” Olivia voiced her guilt.
“You,” Marcy emphasized, “didn’t know anything about real magic until yesterday. You have no responsibility to take care of even yourself in a world you’re unfamiliar with.”
“But—”
“I can provide colorful metaphors if you need?” Marcy interrupted whatever excuse was going to be made with the amusing offer that was a genuine one.
Olivia could not help smiling the slightest. “You don’t need to this time. I just,” her little joy faded in a short pause. “Each of you has done so much since Andrew disappeared. And I tried to carry my own weight by escaping on my own. I even got out of the room. But only for a second. Then one of those Hunters threatened me, and I told them everything. I gave in so easily.”
“That was the right thing to do,” Marcy assured. “Again, you’re not responsible for what’s going on. None of us are going to blame you. Plus, you don’t know much anyways, so I’m not worried about whatever you ended up saying.”
“They didn’t question me for long,” Olivia admitted. “I’m guessing they realized I didn’t know anything, too.”
“Then there’s no need to be worried,” Marcy comforted.
“I’m not worried,” Olivia assured, then began to wonder how to define her feelings. “I’ve just been going along with everything that’s happened. I’m not helping. I’m getting in the way. And I feel I shouldn’t be here.”
Marcy was silent for a moment following the defeatist thought. She was serious and disheartened to say, “Maybe you should go home.”
Olivia gave a soft look of betrayal having hoped what she said would have been rejected. She really wanted to be told how important and needed she was, that the group could not continue unless she stayed with them. Foolish was the idea, and she was as aware from the beginning. The best thing would be to get out of the way.
That was when Mark stepped out of the back room looking no happier than either woman. He joined their conversation, and having heard what Olivia said, offered his own discontent, “You’re not the only one. My fiancé is injured in the next room, and I’m still doing nothing.”
“You’ve done plenty,” Olivia argued his worth. “Back in the woods—”
“I could barely shoot straight,” he reminded. “Emily would have died back there if I hadn’t got that one lucky shot. That would have been on me. And her being hurt now is on me because I couldn’t do anything back at the brewery.”
“Alright, fine,” Olivia was not going to argue and acknowledged their shared feelings. “We’re both useless.”
Marcy intervened, “But nobody expects either of you to do anything. Except for yourselves that is. But Mark,” looking at him, “you have no aptitude for magic whatsoever. And Olivia,” looking at her, “you have no experience with the dangers of magic. It’s stupid to punish yourselves over something out of your control. I don’t know what Andy would say to you, Olivia, but Emily would tell you,” pointing at Mark, “to stop being an idiot. I think you both should take that to heart.”
Mark sighed. “I’m sure she would. But what do we do then if we can’t do anything?”
“I would say to leave this to us,” Marcy recommended. “Then again, that’s me. You should also ask Rachael and Emily. They’ll probably say something better in a better way.”
“You’re being the most honest,” Olivia understood. “That’s something everybody needs. But, yeah, we’ll talk with them, too.”
“We’ll do that when they’re done,” Mark noted as he looked to the beaded door of the back room. Then he followed up with a question, “There’s nothing else you can do? No healing spells?”
“Nothing I can do,” Marcy stated. “And Rachael’s already doing what she can. The only person capable of life magic is Emily. And, before you ask, that type of magic can’t be used on one’s self.”
“Great,” said sarcastically. “How long do you think she’ll need?”
“Couldn’t say,” Marcy confessed. “As long as any normal wound would need?”
“What if they attack again?” Mark worried.
“They won’t,” she assured. “They’re going to want to maintain their anonymity. Attacking during the day would risk drawing too much attention and they might be confronted by the police.”
“Why don’t we go to the police then?”
“Well …” Marcy looked befuddled, believing the reasons were obvious enough that the question did not need to be asked. “I’m currently on the run from them. And we also want to keep our own secrets.”
“Right,” Mark had forgotten. “Okay. Then what are we going to do about them?”
“We’ll have to face them.”
“Kill them?” he guessed.
“I must,” not if and not we. “I’ve already bloodied my hands plenty.”
“So have Emily and Rachael because of you,” he accused.
“Inadvertently and in self-defense but yes,” Marcy accepted. “But even those deaths are more my fault than anyone else’s.”
The beads clattered as Rachael stepped out of the back room with a serious expression. She had also heard the conversation and said neutrally, “Whoever’s responsible doesn’t matter.”
“Emily would beg to differ,” Mark took the opposition.
“Of course, she would,” Rachael was aware of how her friend would be. “But, regardless, we were defending ourselves. That means none of us are at risk of corrupting our souls.” A look at Marcy did question her risk levels.
“My soul is safe and sound, whether you believe me or not.” Marcy pressed a hand to her chest as her way of saying it was still there.
“I assumed you sold your soul to the Devil a long time ago,” Mark slandered. He fully blamed her for everything that happened and was not even trying to hide his verbal attacks.
Marcy did not defend herself. Olivia did not know what position to take. And Rachael was about to say something but was interrupted.
“How is she?” Mark was referring to Emily.
Rachael paused, then allowed the subject to be changed. “She’ll be fine. I wish I could do more. But wards have their limits.”
“I trust you,” Mark spoke gratefully. “So, what are we going to do?”
“I don’t know what you’re going to do,” she said stoically. “But I’m leaving now to save Andy.”
“What about the Hunters?” he worried.
“They’ll be trapped for a while,” she reminded. “Should be trapped long enough for me to deal with this.”
“You said,” Marcy recalled, “we’d save him together.”
“I thought we could,” Rachael had hoped. “But everybody is too preoccupied with everything else going on.”
“Just let her go,” Mark felt there was no place for any of them to argue with her choice. She cared for her brother and should not be stopped from trying to save him.
“Let me come with you,” Olivia pleaded, wanting to save Andy just as much.
“I’m glad you’re safe,” Rachael led with because what followed was harsh, “Go home.”
“What?” Olivia was shocked.
“I said go home,” Rachael repeated. “I’m guessing the Hunters didn’t kill you because you’re not a Witch yet. Which means they have no intention of killing you, yet. As long as you stop involving yourself, you’ll stay safe. So, go home. Now, excuse me.” She stepped passed them to the front door and was out before anybody else had something to say.
Olivia sunk into her feelings of being useless.
And Mark continued to not be outspoken over the decision.
“I’ll be back,” Marcy told them as she followed out the front door, which neither Olivia nor Mark had anything to say about that either.
Outside in the dark, Rachael was already in her car. She looked through the front windshield with a stare that said she would not be stopped. Marcy had no intention of trying and only offered a wave goodbye. Rachael was surprised but did not let that distract her. She backed out of the driveway, and she was quickly gone.
Marcy refocused her attention on who had actually brought her outside. She stepped down from the stoop and crossed the street to approach the brown-haired man standing beside his executive-styled car.
He was mature but not old, having gained the wrinkles without the greying of skin or hair. His expression was one of constant apathetic contempt. The job was where his feelings came from. But all gumshoes became gritty and jaded the longer they worked. The mind could only witness the worst of humanity and respond to scenes of tragedy before breaking or shutting down. Probably why he chain-smoked like he was doing now.
“Detective Gram,” Marcy greeted. “You would be the one to find me.”
“It’s been less than a day and you’re at your friend’s house,” the detective remarked. “Anybody would have found you.”
“I guess you’re right,” Marcy admitted.
“You’ve been busy since you escaped,” he chronicled. “Six bodies found in the woods. The remnants of a dismantled magic circle. Plenty of evidence to put you at the scene.”
“Would you believe me if I said I was defending myself?” Marcy made her plea with a smile.
“Sure,” he was a reasonable man. However, “If you weren’t covered in blood that is,” he pointed out her completely red-stained, white gown. “And if not for four of those bodies being entirely butchered. And that you look completely uninjured.”
“If you found my blood at the scene, then how can I be uninjured?” she disputed.
“I don’t know if you’re uninjured,” he refuted. “You just look to be. And you’re moving around pretty well, as well. Regardless of what did or didn’t happen in the woods, you are an escapee, and I’m taking you in.”
“I can’t argue there,” she held up her hands to be cuffed and smiled. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Detective Gram looked at Marcy intently in an attempt to determine what she might be planning. Supposably, she was a psychological mastermind of manipulation, but her conducting an absurdly indiscreet thing in the woods, being at the most obvious place, and turning herself in without any fight, in fact, walking straight up to do so did not seem to fit that character. He could only assume her actions had something to do with what happened, and he would get the answers once he got her back to her cell.
He cuffed her, put her in the back of his car, and they drove off.
As Olivia and Mark were left alone, she needed to determine her value after hearing, twice, that she was not needed. She asked him, “What do you think I should do?”
Mark gave a look that told everything. He hated that he was going to repeat what had already been said because he understood her feelings. “Maybe you should go home. I’m not saying this because I don’t think you can’t help. But, what Rachael said, you’d be safer if you stopped involving yourself. And the best thing you could do for yourself, for us, for Andy would be to stay safe until all this is figured out.”
Olivia was filled with a sad acceptance now having heard the same thing three times in a row. There was no arguing, no hoping anymore from this point on. She sighed. “Yeah.”
“Here,” Mark took keys out of his pocket and held them out. “You can borrow my car to get yourself there. It’s the least I can do since I can tell this isn’t what you want. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “Out of everybody, you probably know what’s best. If Emily was the one missing and Andy the one fighting, you—…” what she was going to say would not have been true and she stopped herself mid-sentence. Their positions would not be switched under any circumstance. She offered him worth, “You’re not as useless as me. Don’t try to say otherwise. I’m the one going home, not you.”
“I’m home right now,” he lightly joked.
“You know what I mean,” she stressed the metaphor.
“I do,” he said seriously this time.
After a short pause to wonder if there was anything more to be said, she excused herself, “I guess, I’ll be going.”
“Be safe,” was the last thing he offered.
Olivia exited the house with her head in a fog. She was having a hard time putting a single thought together. But she was partly grateful for the delirium because she knew if she could process what was going on, she would break down and cry.
Then everything became focused as Olivia witnessed Marcy being put in the back of a car, handcuffed.
Mark was now standing by himself feeling rather depressed. He stroked his beard in contemplation if he had done the right thing. But, in the end, he never answered that. The issue was allowed to fall away from his thoughts as he went to the back to meet with what was most important.
White smoke filled the room along with the thick smell of sage oddly paired along with cooked fish. Emily laid on the table, inside a bubble of unpolluted air, the cloud shaping around her but not crossing over her body. A plate of charred salmon, which must have been taken from the fridge, rested beside her head.
Mark carefully approached. His main focus was his concern for her, but his curiosity for the fish was rather strong. He did not dare touch anything that might be important but that did not stop him from intently staring at the out-of-place dish.
“You should leave that alone,” Emily warned as her eyes slowly opened, and she smiled.
“This was supposed to be dinner,” Mark mentioned.
“It will give you the worst stomachache now,” she explained. “Rachael used the strangest ritual. She must have picked it up while she was traveling. It’s supposed to transfer sickness and suffering from one body to another. So, that fish is filled with all my negative energy.”
“This is one of those magic tricks that doesn’t sound real,” he admitted his skepticism.
“Well, the fish wasn’t cooked when she first set it beside my head,” she revealed.
“Huh,” he was surprised to hear. “Spontaneous fish fillet. That would be more magical. But why the fish?”
“Any meat, or plant, or even another person could have been used,” Emily detailed. “That’s what Rachael said, anyway. We only had the fish.”
“So, what do we do with it when we’re done?”
“Throw it away.” She shrugged. “Bury it in the backyard.”
“At least that’s not a difficult step.” The subject was finally changed by asking the obvious question, “How are you?”
“I’m feeling alright,” she expressed. “I can still tell the bullet hole is there, but it doesn’t hurt, and I’m not feeling faint anymore, just the normal type of tired.”
“Is there anything more I can do?” He offered.
“No,” she answered. “All I need is to take a bit more time to rest.”
“Then I’ll sit by your side while you do that.”
“Try to get some rest yourself,” she worried for him as well. “Bring a pillow and blanket in here if you need. But do get some sleep. We’ve been running around all night and day. By the way, where is everybody?”
Mark looked back into the foyer. He knew that Rachael and Olivia had left. And, without Marcy coming back in, he guessed she was gone, too. But he decided not to tell Emily any of that. Instead, he lied, “They’re getting some rest as well.”