The Coming | The House of Voices #2

Eighteen - Old Remedy

Old Remedy

 

Parish:

Before anyone else could react, Ace lunged, catching October before she could crack her head against the edge of apothecary table. Parish rushed forward, wanting to help. “I’m going to need you to set the bone before I can heal her,” she told Spade, settling down on the floor and adjusting October’s body so that her head was in Ace’s lap.

Spade nodded, moving quickly to kneel down besides October. Gently picking up her hand, he looked at Ace with a determined expression. “Put her to sleep,” he suggested.

Ace nodded and lifted two fingers to October’s forehead. Pressing lightly she leaned down and almost whispered into October’s ear, “Dormio.” Parish felt something warm settle over him like a blanket; October’s breathing became instantly steady. She looked like she was in a peaceful sleep, rather than a pain-induced state of dormancy.

“You might want to look away,” Ace warned him a split second before Spade snapped October’s bones back into place.

It was a lot less dramatic than Parish had expected. No overly loud snap that filled the entire room, but a series of strange crunching sort of sound that reminded him of the noise you heard when you bit down on a carrot – or maybe he imagined that part. The sight, however, was every bit gruesome.

Spade lifted October’s arm up to eye level and examined it, pressing gingerly to make sure there were no breaks anywhere else. Once he was satisfied, he laid it carefully back down on her lap and stood up. “What do you need?” he asked Ace, fixing his worried gaze on October’s sleeping figure.

“Mole pellets, Curry powder, a vial of Vervain and a few Comfrey leaves,” She said, shooting the list out like a seasoned healer. “And a few more things from the kitchen; I’ll get those. Parish, switch with me.”

Cautiously, Parish lifted October’s head off Ace’s lap and put it in his. Her eyelids flickered slightly, but she remained sleeping. Sighing in relief, Ace and Spade ran out of the room in search of whatever the things they needed to fix her arm. Parish was surprised that he wasn’t as skeptical about their claim that they could fix October’s bones as he had been a little while ago. But, he supposed, he had just seen Ace make October sleep through having her bones reset. Maybe they really were magic practitioners.

Parish looked down at October’s sleeping face and gave her a wry smile. So many people in D.C and the two of them had somehow managed to land themselves in the company of two magic practitioners. What were the odds?

The two returned a minute later, arms laden with different ingredients that made it look like they were about to make soup. Ace placed a small tin of tomato paste, a bowl, one egg and a few red peppers on the apothecary table. Kneeling next to her, Spade handed her the items she’d asked him to get.

“I thought you said that you were the best at potions,” Parish said, looking at Spade inquisitively. If Spade was better at it, then why wasn’t the one opening the tin of tomato paste with a knife instead of Ace?

“I am,” Spade said with a nod.

“This isn’t a potion,” Ace explained, emptying half the tin into the bowl and flinging the egg after it, shell and all. The egg broke in the bowl with a muffled crack. “It’s an old remedy that my dad used on me once when I was a kid. A Romani thing, I think. I Fell out of a tree and snapped my leg like a twig. Because it was a clean break, it healed in a couple of hours. Six. Hairlines and not-so-clean breaks take a day or so. I dunno why.” She handed spade a spoon and pushed the bowl of tomato and egg paste towards him. “Three times counter-clockwise,” she directed.