Seeing Magic (The Queen of the Night Series Book 1) (7 page)

“I can’t see your future.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, it’s weird. I had the one premonition, when you are named the next Great Healer. You’re older, so it’s not for a while, but that’s it. I saw a couple of premonitions of your brother before I met you, but I didn’t know who he was back then. Before we met at the airport, I’d never seen a vision about you.”

“Why is that, do you think?”

“I have no clue.”

“Huh. So, you want to pick the next song on the jukebox?”

“Okay,” he smiled.

***

After lunch, we went to the local cinema for a matinee. It was playing a recently released action flick and we were still marveling at the stunts when we reached the public library. Evan handed over Fiona’s library card. I headed straight for the mystery novel section. After I checked out as many whodunits as they’d allow, we went home. I’d done a great deal of walking, so I took a nap before dinner. Later, as I settled down in the easy chair with my new mystery book, I decided this had been the best day of my summer. For a few hours, Evan had treated me like a friend, not like an obligation to Fiona.

Chapter Seven

The Secret Room

On Sunday afternoon I got my chance. The store closed early, at 4 PM, and Cassie and I had just finished shutting down the register. While helping to escort a couple of last minute customers to the stairwell, I saw light streaming through a narrow opening between the Chinese sliding panels. Unable to stop myself, I went over and peeked inside the secret room, tiptoeing with my cane and spying around the edge of the panel.

Even more shocking than the wares for sale was what existed at the opposite end of the room.

The merchandise itself seemed surreal. Huge cauldrons were on display all around. Each one was shaped like a ball that had had its top cut off, with little feet at the bottom, a lipped rim around the opening, and a handle. They came available in many sizes and were made of copper, pewter and cast iron. A large one sat near the center of the room made of enameled cast iron. It was advertised as a ten gallon cauldron. Pillar candles were displayed around the room in an assortment of colors. A glass case on one side of the room housed a collection of athames, or ritual daggers, which I found quite disturbing. The variety of these special knives ranged from the most plain to the most elaborately carved. In here were crystal balls and real, old tarot cards, not the tourist-type cards sold in the book shop. They weren’t glossy, baseball-themed or astrological sign-themed decks, but huge cards that looked like aged parchment. It was obvious what was sold in this room: witchcraft.

Although the merchandise was fantastical, the area directly across from me, up against the windows, took my attention first. It was set up as what I could only describe as a doctor’s office. On a large examining table sat a small girl. She looked to be about Corey’s age, but seemed to be in a lot of pain and had Corey’s greenish complexion from the airplane. This was probably why the woman standing nervously next to her was holding a plastic bucket. Aside from being sick, the little girl was adorable. She had long, honey-colored waves of hair pulled back in pig-tails and big, brown eyes that were fixed on her mother’s face. Her mother looked deeply concerned but held the bucket bravely at the ready. Fiona stood on the opposite side of the table to me and appeared very much like a doctor. She wore a white lab coat and had a stethoscope around her neck. She listened to the little girls breathing sounds by placing it on her back.

It occurred to me I should back soundlessly out of the doorway and mind my own business, since I clearly had no right to spy on the girl or her mother. As I tried to step backward, my left ankle buckled. I swung the cane out to my right to try and compensate for the loss of balance. In slow motion, I saw the catastrophe unfold. The cane struck the edge of the closest sliding panel. It bowed inwards, striking a stack of copper cauldrons. They tipped over and spilled onto the floor in waves of cacophonic sound. One of them struck a ladder perched against a high shelving unit in the corner of the room. It fell and took down a shelf of candles which in turn crashed onto a display of crystal balls. The glass balls thankfully didn’t break, but they did roll all across the floor and into the examining area.

Since sneaking away soundlessly was no longer an option, and my injured state didn’t allow for me to sprint from the scene of the crime, I braced myself for Fiona’s wrath.

Instead, she looked up at me and stated briskly, in her no-nonsense voice, “Well Maggie, you might as well come in here and help me.”

I approached cautiously, a little wary of entering this room of witchcraft and greatly wary of approaching the stern look on Fiona’s face. Plus, I had to skirt around all the cauldrons, candles and gazing orbs with my limp and cane. When I reached the examining table, she introduced me. The little girl’s name was Zoe and her mother was Caroline. I schooled myself to not show panic after my horrendous entrance, and expressed condolences on Zoe’s illness.

Fiona queried, “Tell me Maggie, what do you think is wrong with little Zoe?”

I said the first thing that came to mind. “She’s sick.”

Fiona snapped. “Could you be a little more specific?”

Since I felt obligated to make up for interrupting this family’s private appointment, and because obviously Fiona was challenging me, I took a stab at a diagnosis. Channeling every medical drama I’d ever seen on TV, I started musing out loud. “Well, she looks like she’s been vomiting.” 

Her mother acknowledged this fact with a nod to the bucket.

“You’re checking her breathing, so she must have some congestion.” I had a stab of insight, so I decided to ask a couple of questions of my own. “Does she have a fever?” 

Her mother nodded in the affirmative.

“Zoe, do you feel tired or have achy muscles?” 

“Yes,” Zoe shivered as she answered in a meek voice.

I looked at Aunt Fiona. “It sounds like she has the flu.”

Fiona said, “You’re thinking. That’s good. What if I told you she has been having trouble breathing but she has had no nasal congestion, no cough, no runny nose and her ears are fine?  Would you still say she has the flu?”

I stared aghast at my great-aunt, glancing sideways at Caroline. I wanted to see if she was preparing to pack her little girl up and drag her out of the place.
What parent would trust the diagnosis of a fifteen-year old with no medical training
?  I didn’t understand what Fiona wanted from me, so I responded with the only answer I had. “I don’t know. I’m just a teenager. I’m not a doctor.”

Fiona replied, “I know that, but give it a try anyway.”

I still couldn’t understand why Caroline was tolerating this game, but Fiona looked insistent and Caroline looked at me expectantly.

“I don’t know what might cause an upset stomach and trouble breathing at the same time. Could it be two different things?”

“Yes,” nodded Fiona, “but if there was only one cause for her symptoms, what would you say it might be?”

Suddenly, the answer came to me. I remembered back to the herbs Fiona had made me study. I’d had to memorize a great number of herbs, their uses, the descriptions, how to grow them and so many other facts. I remembered these kinds of symptoms from my Herbalism studies, so I asked, “Could it be poison?” 

There were poisons derived from plants that would make a person vomit uncontrollably and some that affected breathing.

Fiona smiled, almost as if in relief.

“Yes, it could be poison.” 

I turned to Caroline. “Has Zoe eaten anything unusual lately?”

“Like I said before, I don’t think so.”

“How long has she been sick like this?”

Both Caroline and Fiona answered, “Two weeks.”

Obviously, Fiona had already asked these kinds of questions before I stumbled in on them. Normal food poisoning wouldn’t still be affecting Zoe after two weeks, even I knew that. The look on Fiona’s face told me she wasn’t playing a game. This was a serious situation for the little girl. I wasn’t sure why she wanted to involve me, but I accepted she must have had a reason.

When Fiona mused out loud, “What kind of poison could it be?”

I ventured a guess, based on the few poisons I’d covered in my studies. “How about digitalis, you know, from the Foxglove flower?”

“That’s good thinking,” she answered, “but I’d don’t think we’re dealing with a cardiotoxin here. Has Zoe had any muscle cramping, seizures or uncontrollable movements in her arms or legs?”

Caroline shook her head to say no.

I tried again.

“Has she gone anywhere new since she started feeling sick?”

“Those are the right kinds of questions.” Fiona encouraged me. “Caroline, what’s changed in the last couple of weeks?”

Caroline looked like she was thinking really hard, but she shrugged her shoulders and said, “Nothing has changed. The only thing different is that school is over for the summer and Zoe has been playing with her brothers and the neighborhood kids in Warm Springs Run. It flows back behind our property, but no one else has gotten sick. The kids play there every summer. We’ve never had a problem with the stream.”  

Finally, Fiona finished her exam of Zoe. She hooked the stethoscope around her neck and said, “Here’s the thing. I can’t find any bug bites or open wounds on Zoe’s skin. Her lymph nodes are not swollen. I don’t think it’s the flu, but something is wrong and it may be a poison. You need to have blood tests done. Do you have a doctor?”

Caroline shook her head. “We really try not to go to doctors. We don’t have a lot of money.”

Fiona replied, “I understand, but here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to give Zoe a treatment today. I can relieve some of the pressure in her lungs so she will be able to breathe better. However, the treatment will not cure her, and these symptoms will come back. They will probably get worse if we cannot find the cause of her illness. You must take her to a doctor.” 

Caroline looked relieved when Fiona mentioned the healing hands treatment, but frowned again when Fiona insisted on sending Zoe to a doctor.

Stalwartly, Fiona continued, “I am going to give you the number of a very good doctor in Hedgesville. He practices Family Medicine and he’s very understanding. He often treats patients for free, but Zoe should be eligible for government assistance. The people in Doctor Fairmont’s office will help you with the necessary paperwork. He’ll know what blood tests to order and help you get the tests done.”

Caroline took the slip of paper with the doctor’s information and tucked it into her purse.

Fiona addressed me, “Maggie, you’ve seen me do this procedure on you several times. I’ll need you to help me out.” 

Finally, I understood why Fiona asked me to participate. I had seen her use the healing hands technique many times. Taking on the role Daisy performed when Fiona worked on me and standing at Zoe’s head, I gently held Zoe’s arms still while Fiona held her hands over Zoe’s chest. Fiona closed her eyes and chanted a prayer as she sought out the obstruction that kept Zoe from breathing normally. Even with my hands down by Zoe’s sides, I could feel the heat radiating from her hands. She stood back. The treatment was complete.

Fiona pulled a pad of paper out of the pocket of her lab coat, and jotted down some notes. She handed the paper to Caroline.

“Here is the name of a cola and Beech bark tonic we sell downstairs that should help calm Zoe’s stomach. I’ve also listed a chamomile tea. She should drink as much of it as she wants, especially before bedtime. Take this downstairs. Kimberly will sort you out.”

Zoe sat up and smiled at her mother. “I feel better, Mommy. I feel a lot better.” 

A great sigh of relief escaped Caroline’s lips. She thanked Fiona profusely and promised to do as Fiona had requested. She packed up her daughter and the bucket. Off they went.

Once they’d left the room, Fiona looked at me and grunted. “Clean this up,” she ordered, indicating the mess of candles, crystal balls and other things littered around the room, and then she left.

I started to pick things up as best I could with my cane. A few minutes later, Evan came in and started putting things back in order. When we were finished, he stood by the Chinese panels until I hobbled past him. He pulled out a set of keys and locked the panels together, and then escorted me downstairs.

When we’d reached Fiona’s office she looked up from her desk and said, “From now on, Maggie, you wait to be invited. Do you understand?” 

I meekly nodded my head in the affirmative.

“Get ready to go,” she ordered. She shouldered her carry-all bag and stalked out the back door of the store. I followed at my slow pace. When I reached the door I heard snatches of her conversation with Evan.

She sounded more disgruntled than usual. “She’s a natural,” she barked. “She has a complete natural aptitude for healing. I don’t know why her mother kept her away from us for so long. It’s a tragedy. It’s an absolute tragedy. She needs training and she needs it now. She could be one of the best Healers we’ve
ever seen
.”

When she saw me in the doorway, she actually smiled.
Is there someone behind me?
No, she was smiling at me. That night she let me ride home in the truck with her, instead of having Evan take me home. She spent the whole drive quizzing me about different illnesses, their symptoms and their causes and seemed pleased with my answers.

After dinner, when we were doing the dishes, I asked her, “Aunt Fiona, do you have any formal medical training?”

“I only need the apprenticeship I had from the time I was four years old at my great-aunt’s knee.”

“Why do people trust you to cure them, if you have no formal medical training?”

“They have faith in the magic, dear. I was born with it. I was born to heal, just as you are.”

“Shouldn’t they have faith in doctors instead?  That woman said she didn’t like going to them. Why?”

“You have to understand, our people have been counting on clan Healers to care for them for thousands of years. They trusted us before doctors even existed. Even with all that modern medicine can do, it’s not as impressive as magic.”

***

As I climbed into bed that night I couldn’t help thinking it was all well and good to have faith, but a real medical degree combined with the magic couldn’t hurt.