CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I woke up in the hospital, my room lit with the bright morning light. I was sore everywhere. I tried stretching my back and felt it painfully pop several times. I did the same with my limbs and toes. It didn't feel like I had broken or torn anything, which was a relief. I probably just needed a good stretch.
My hands were a different story, though. I could feel each of my fingers wrapped up individually, and on top of that they were wrapped together. Even my thumb was wrapped in place, cotton spacing it away from my hands. The bandages went up my wrists and arms and ended at my elbows. I looked like I had cotton swabs for arms.
I tried to sit up, but as I moved my head to help center my balance I felt a sharp, painful tug at my chest and had to lie back down. I lifted up my head as far as it would go and looked around. Jack was sitting in a chair looking deep in thought, eyes closed with his elbows on his knees and chin resting on his knuckles.
I tried saying his name a couple of times. It was quiet, but he eventually heard and immediately jumped up off the chair and to my side, grabbing the cup of water and a straw for me to drink from. "I'm sorry. I was... meditating."
"Meditating, or sleeping?" I tried to whisper playfully. My throat still hurt, though the water helped soothe some of the dryness. He seemed to resent my question. "It's okay. I'm glad you're here. How long have I been out?"
"About a day and a half."
"How long have you been here?"
"I have not left your side."
I don't know why I was stunned at that. I was touched and surprised that he stayed with me. I had assumed that he would do what he did last time I ended up in the hospital and leave to continue fighting evil.
"I brought you here immediately after you passed out. Your case required a certain amount of discretion. There is a doctor here that I have come to often when I was severely injured by... unusual weapons or creatures. He comes from a long line of alchemists and can provide remedies not found many other places. I had to make sure that he was the one to help you."
"And after he had taken care of me?"
He looked sheepishly at the floor. "I... could not make myself leave without knowing you recovered well."
"Thanks. That really means a lot to me."
We were quiet for a few minutes. I reached out to him with my bandaged hand. He took the mass of gauze and tape in his own two hands and gently wrapped his fingers around it. "What can I do to make you feel better, Kenna?"
I felt tears well up in my eyes. Jack looked worried and started to gently put my hand down. "Did I hurt you? I'm sorry. I won't touch you anymore."
"No, no," I said quickly. "Please, hold my hand. I just... I can't believe how nice you are. I treated you like crap when you came back. I could see you were hurt and I wanted to help but I was so angry at you that I refused to let myself approach you. I even tried to hurt your feelings. And yet you still kept an eye on me to make sure I was safe. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"I accept your apology, and I apologize for leaving you without leaving word of where I was going. I am not used to having a relationship like ours. I am used to leaving without a trace to wherever I am needed. I admit I was sad to leave you in the hospital without saying goodbye, but my duties to find who attacked you took me elsewhere."
"Where did you go?"
"Many places. I recognized the items the vampires carried on them as wards, so I traveled to Europe and Asia to find the other ward carvers. The ones in India and Italy are old and set in their ways. They rarely carve wards any more, and when they do they only carve wards they are familiar with. I spent a full day tracking down the one in Germany when I was captured. I was detained in a castle for quite some time. I was tortured for information concerning the other two wardcarvers. When I refused to say anything, Mina was flown over and given the opportunity to torture me for fun. She was only there every few days, but she liked to beat me to the brink of death.
"I did not see anyone else while I was there, but I heard many voices. The German wardcarver had been bribed into carving the wards that the vampires carried with them. He was very corrupt and quickly lost control of being able to carve functional wards. That was why your mother was abducted and brought to Germany; her talents could help balance out the chaos the German was producing."
"If you didn't tell them about my parents, how did they know about her? Are they ever going to bring her back?"
"There was another man there. I only heard him come in once, but he seemed to be the head of the operation. He never spoke loud enough for me to understand what he was saying, but I could tell from his accent that he is American. I'm sorry; I don't have any information beyond that. And yes, your mother is back. She is actually here in the hospital herself. They would not dare to split up your parents permanently. It would effectively destroy half of the world's wardcarvers. They simply wanted to have her there to guide the German."
"She's here?! I need to see her!" I tried to get up, but the painful, sharp tugging at my chest prevented me from getting up again.
"She is fine, though emotionally damaged. I should let you know... she hasn't allowed anyone to touch her, and she hasn't said a word since she was brought back. She sustained several injuries during her time in Germany, but she shouldn't have any permanent physical damage. She was strong. I heard her refuse to design wards for them many times. They only managed to get her to design wards for them after submitting her to psychological warfare."
"How did you escape? Why didn't you take my mother with you?"
"A ghost eventually found me. She told me that you had inquired about me and your mother, and the ghosts networked out to help find us."
"Why didn't they tell me that they found you?" I interrupted.
"Humans can't see ghosts outside of areas designated for the burial or resting place for the dead. If you had simply gone back to the cemetery at any point they would have told you."
"Oh." I felt silly for interrupting Jack for a silly tangent. He let it slide, though, and continued with his story.
"The ghosts were able to describe the layout of the place to me and be lookout for my escape. I tried to find your mother, but she was heavily warded to dispel anyone not involved in this scheme of theirs to become disoriented whenever approached. I tried to find her, but ended up walking in circles. I would have continued to attempt to get her out, but I was caught. I ran, but was shot a few times before I made it to safety. I'm sure the only reason my pursuers stopped was because they assumed I would die from my wounds."
"You were shot?!"
"Yes, though not through any of my vital organs. I knew that Mina would target you and your family as soon as word got out that I had escaped, so I came here as fast as I could. She did not underestimate me the way my captors did and assumed I was still alive."
"You got here within a few hours of escaping? From Germany?"
"I caught a ride with a phoenix. They don't travel long distances in a conventional manner. It was almost the fastest way I could get here."
"Wow. And you still managed to fight her off with the bullet wounds?"
"I am very resilient. It's why I was able to work the vampire venom out of my system so quickly after you administered the holy water."
"So... while we're on that topic, what was that sword that Dane had?"
"I believe it was one of the artifacts that were being created in Germany by your mother and the German. I haven't had a chance to go back and retrieve the sword to study it further, but it felt like magic had been etched into it. The vampire venom was put on as added precaution, presumably against me."
"Were the candles on stage made there, too?" I already knew the answer to this question, but I deeply, deeply hoped to be proven wrong.
"I can't say for certain as I have not had a chance to study them closer, either, but from what I could see from a distance, they did not have the same patterns. I am inc
lined to believe that someone else carved them."
I sighed. "Thanks for being nice about it, but it's obviously my father's handiwork. This is what I don't understand - if they were already forcing my mom to draw up wards for them, why would they threaten dad so he made stuff for them, too?"
Jack gently stroked my bandaged forearm. It was soothing, which I think was the point because I did not like what he said next.
"I believe that the point of forcing your father to carve wards - and, in the case of the candles, witching symbols - was to plant a seed of corruption in him. He and your mother are still capable of carving wards, but it will be very, very difficult. She will likely be hesitant to draw up new wards, and he will have a desire to continue to carve them on his own. It will be a very long healing process for the both of them, and that's if they can continue to carve wards without any outside influences. They will likely carry scars from this incident with them for the rest of their lives. I don’t know what the purpose of harming your parents in such a way is, but if I had to guess I’d say that someone doesn’t want them carving wards for the immediate future."
I was silent, allowing myself to take my time to comprehend this. It was the most crushingly disappointing thing I could imagine. Would my dad ever be happy or laugh again? Would mom be able to go back to work?
"Will they at least be able to fix the wards that dad carved in our house while mom was gone? They felt... off. I think it's interfering with the good wards in our house."
"I don't know. You may have to get rid of the items that the bad wards are carved on."
"He carved wards onto the banister and on the crown moldings and on the cabinets. It's not just an issue of finding new furniture - you're talking about remodel-level overhauls here."
"That does become an issue. Well, I will make sure that someone is keeping an eye on your house. I can think of few people that would not be willing to make sure that the local wardcarvers are protected."
"Thank you. For everything. You've done so much for me and my family. I've never had a friend quite like you."
He stopped stroking my forearm and put my hand down. He gave me a sad smile and said, "Of course. That's what friends do." He stood up. "I'm going to get the doctor. He will want to see you now that you're awake." He walked out of the room. What was that all about?
The doctor came in shortly after and introduced himself as Dr. Morrison. "Good to see you're awake! Now, let's take those bandages off and see how your hands are doing."
He sat next to me and unwrapped one of my hands, then let out a low, "Whoa." I looked anxiously at him. Was that a good "whoa" or a bad "whoa"? He examined my hand closely and said, "I need you to close your eyes."
I did as he asked and waited. I could feel him flexing each of my fingers. Then he pricked the end of my middle finger with something sharp. "Ow!" I flinched and instinctively drew my hand back.
"Interesting..." Dr. Morrison mused.
"What? What's interesting?"
"When you came in your hands were burnt to a crisp. Third and fourth degree burns halfway up to your elbow. Even if your hands healed enough to still work, all the nerve endings would have been destroyed. You were looking at a long recovery process involving multiple skin grafts. Now it looks like you're almost finished healing from first, maybe second degree burns. Let's take a look at that other hand and your chest."
My other hand had similarly healed. He peeled the bandage off my chest carefully, but I was not quite so lucky with that wound. There were nine perfectly round blisters in a U shape, right where the beads on my necklace sat. The circle on the bottom was the worst looking, where my skin had charred black.
"Well, Jack told me a bit about what happened. Can I bounce a theory off of you?" I shrugged and nodded. "You had to accept this demon's power in order to neutralize it, right? A fire demon? And according to Jack, you could still feel this demon's presence inside you"
"Yeah..."
"You were going on gut instinct. It had never been done before, and, no offense, it was probably really stupid of you to do it. I believe that you may not have been able to completely neutralize all of its power. A fire demon doesn't get burns. As such, I believe you may be hyper-resilient to burns."
"The demon... isn't neutralized?"
"Well, I believe you neutralized most of it. I took a good look at that rather remarkable piece of jewelry of yours and I believe that any threat to your well-being may be gone. The wounds on your chest suggest that the wards served their purpose to neutralize the greater part of the demon's power and influence quite well."
Oh, crap. "My necklace! Where'd my necklace go?"
"Don't panic. I kept it on me for safekeeping." He reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled my necklace out. "Be careful with your hands. I don't know how quickly they're going to finish healing."
I held my necklace gingerly in my hands and inspected it. It had visibly gone through a beating - each of the beads were a shade darker than they had been before, and the wards looked like they had been burned in rather than carved or etched in. The pendant, though, couldn't have looked more the opposite. Instead of looking scorched, it was a bright, gleaming gold color. There was no trace of it having ever looked silver before.
"I wouldn't recommend you put it on until those blisters have scabbed over. It would only irritate your skin more and leave really nasty scars." Dr Morrison warned.
"Okay... but I need it on me. It's really important that I can wear it."
"Keep it near you, maybe in your pocket. Heck, if your hands and arms keep healing at this pace, you can probably wear it as a bracelet within the next day or so."
"Yeah... okay." I was disappointed, but I could make due.
He stood up and said, "Well, I have a special cream that you can use on your hands and chest. Lemme go whip up a batch for you and I'll have a nurse help you apply it." And with that, he left.
About an hour later a nurse came in and gently rubbed the cream into my burns. She wrapped and bandaged them up again, though thankfully not as heavily as they had been before. My hands merely looked like they were dressed up as a mummy for Halloween rather than padded like boxing gloves. Soon after another nurse came in with lunch. My throat hurt so I could only eat the mashed potatoes and the pudding, which was a shame because I was ravenous.
I took a nap shortly after and woke up again at sunset. Someone had heard I was awake and spread the word. I had a couple small bouquets of flowers sitting on the windowsill and, more importantly, Arvin and Terra were in the room. They got up from where they were sitting and came to the side of my bed.
"Hey there, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?" Terra asked.
I tried rubbing my face, but remembered that it would probably hurt more than help when I saw my bandaged hands. I blinked several times and answered, "Not too bad. Pretty sore, but a lot of that could be from being in bed for so long. How are you guys?"
"Not too bad. We've been mostly in Mom's room today. She came back from Germany late last night. She got really sick with something nasty and had to be admitted to the hospital for dehydration and stuff. She's doing better, but she's really depressed. She won't talk to any of us and just looks out the window."
"I need to see her." I propped myself up and slowly got out of bed, trying not to pull the skin on my chest too tightly.
"You're still hooked up to an IV, I don't think you're supposed to leave," Alvin said.
I got on my feet and wavered a bit. My knees were a little weak from being off them for a couple of days. I stumbled out the door, leaning on my IV stand for support, my siblings following close behind in case I fell. Jack had been sitting outside the door and stood up when he heard the door open. He caught my elbow to steady me and said, "You really shouldn't be up."
"I'm aware. I need to see mom, though. Which way is she?" I asked.
"To the l
eft, about four doors down," answered Terra.
I slowly shuffled my way down the hallway. I was impatient, but could only move so fast, even with Jack helping me walk. We reached the door and I pushed it open. Dad was silently sitting next to mom, holding her hand, but she was blankly looking out the window. She was emaciated and pale, and had the same dark circles under her eyes that dad had, though they weren't as dark.
"Mom?" I said.
She seemed to respond to the sound of my voice. She blinked a few times, a confused look on her face. She slowly turned her head to face where I was standing, and her mouth fell open. "Kenna?"
"Hey. How are you doing?"
"Sweetie... is that really you?"
"Yeah, I know I look a bit beat up, but it's me, and I'm fine." I walked to her side and held her hand in mine.
My mom's eyes glistened with tears. "They told me you were... that you had... I thought you were gone." She whispered just loud enough for me to hear.
Ah. I understood. "Terra, Arvin, Jack, can I talk with mom and dad alone for just a few minutes?"
"Why? What are you going to talk about that we can't know about?" Arvin snapped back.
"Arvin... please. It'll only take a few minutes. I understand you've been worried about your mother. I have, too. We'll all talk together in a bit. Go let a nurse know that your sister has escaped from her room so they don't raise a fuss when they discover her empty bed." Dad got up and shooed them out the door, shutting it firmly behind them.
He came back to the bedside and moved a chair so I could sit down. "Lucie, sweetheart. Can you talk? Jack told me that you were stuck in that castle. What happened?"
"I refused to draw up wards for them... they beat me when I said no. Sometimes I went so long without food and water that I thought about drawing up fake wards for them just so I wouldn't die. I think I may have, at one point. But it obviously didn't work. They got so mad. I didn't have any food or water for days after that. No one even came to my cell to talk to me. Then someone came in and told me that they killed you, Kenna. I didn't want to believe them, but they brought a piece of your clothing with blood on it. They told me to start drawing up wards for them or they'd go after the rest of my children. I had no choice... it was so difficult, they made me draw up wards that go against everything we've built up. I feel so unclean... so dirty." She turned her head and looked away from us in shame.
"Mom..." I whispered. "You're not unclean. We need you... dad needs you... because you're the best of all of us. You're strong. At least you put up a fight before doing what you did..." I could feel my face growing hot in shame, realizing I did what I did willingly. There were probably ways of defeating a demon that didn't involve accepting its power. And the desire for the power and balance it had promised was probably an illusion cast by the demon. I was ashamed at how weak I was.
"Well, you're here now, and Kenna is safe. According to Jack, we should all be safe for a while. Did you see any of your captors?" Dad asked.
She shook her head. "The only person whose face I saw was Frederik's. He looked so... inhuman. His skin was all black and white, and his hair was long and tangled. He was so thin. I never saw him eat or drink. All I ever saw him do was carve wards. Everyone else was hooded. The only time they ever spoke to me was to tell me what wards they wanted, and to tell me they had... Kenna..." She trailed off sadly.
"Did you hear Americans talk to you?" I asked.
"Only one, a woman. Well, I think she was American. She had a deep, gravelly voice and an accent that may have been American. She was the one to tell me about you. Everyone else sounded like they were from somewhere else in Europe or talked too quietly for me to understand what they were saying."
I was a little disappointed, but I wasn't how it was going to have helped me if she had heard an American man there.
"But that's enough about me. What happened to you?" Mom asked me.
I told them everything that had happened, barring the part where I noticed the wards on the candles. I didn't need to make dad feel worse. By the time I was done talking Mom had a big look of surprise on her face, though Dad looked really, really guilty.
"I'm so sorry... it's all my fault," dad confessed. "I carved the spells into the candles that helped summon the demon. You have to understand, if I didn't get those candles made, they told me that they weren't going to let your mother go. I would have stood stronger if I had known they were going to force you to summon it."
"Well, I still think you did an incredible job neutralizing the demon," my mom said. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. Are you feeling okay?" I nodded. "Good. And, hey, you found your outlet for the fire inside you! I'm so proud of you, sweetie."
I was able to smile a little bit at that. I was amazed that my mom had gone through so much more physical and emotional trauma than I had, and yet she still was able to give me attention and encouragement.
“Dad? How are you doing?” I asked.
He looked away, ashamed. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. I’m sorry, dad, but that wasn’t an idle question. We had lost you there for a couple of days. You seem better, now, but really, how are you doing?”
“I’m… feeling a little more myself now that your mom's here. I’m sorry, Kenna. For everything. I realize that I treated you completely irrationally. And thank you for looking out for me. I really do appreciate it.”
I leaned over to let him give me a hug.
"Well, now we have to come up with a story for what to tell Arvin and Terra." I said. "I don't even know what to tell them about my burns."
"Jack has that part covered. A fire started backstage and you got trapped behind a costume rack that had caught fire from a frayed electrical wire. Your school is quite old, after all. You tried pushing your way out, which is why your hands are so burned up. He wouldn't say if he did or not, but I think he even set a fire back stage to make the story about your hands as well as the missing members of your dance club seem legitimate. He can probably give you the details so your story matches up with the official record, and he's already explained it to Arvin and Terra," Dad explained.
"And it sounds like he got a story whipped up for mom, too. Pretty cut and dry, from what I understand. How do we explain why we needed to talk alone?" I asked.
"We stick to the truth as much as possible. Mom got a message that was horribly misinterpreted, and thought that Kenna had fallen ill and died. It also explains her depression." Dad suggested.
We invited Terra and Arvin back in and told them our story. I think they believed it, though they still seemed a little resentful that we excluded them from the original meeting. More than anything, though, they were glad that mom was talking again, and we had a wonderful family reunion.
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