The Mayor, the Witch, and the Lumberjack - Chapter 3

Instructions

The room grew heavy in the silence. The active glyphs on the walls hummed with magic, the nether portal pulsed and breathed as it felt the humanoid presences, but the echo of Varona’s words overpowered them both. “What do you–How–I don’t–” Owen couldn’t formulate any words.”*Fix* me? Varona–It doesn’t–” She stayed patient and quiet, letting him get it all out. He hesitated before letting out a long sigh. “I appreciate the offer, Varona, but it’s fruitless.” His voice was firm. “Do you know how many ‘natural remedies’ I’ve been promised will fix me? How many times doctors have told me their procedures work? How I’ve been sucked dry of what little I had by people who promised me progress–promised me *help*? Why would you be so different? What can you do that will fix me?” “I’m not saying I *can* fix you.” Her voice had a defensive snap to it. “I’m saying that Louis asked me to try, and I can’t *stand* to see him so worried about you.” Owen froze, watching her onyx eyes sparkle with magic. His tanned skin grew a pinkish tint. “... Louis asked you to?” “Yeah. *Void* knows how long you two have been oblivious about each other.” Varona muttered something about “stupid boys” under her breath, and Owen looked away in slight embarrassment. “Listen… I can’t promise that it’s a fix. I *can* promise that it’ll be *different*. The moment you want to stop? We will. I won’t make you pay me anything, whether or not it works. You choose what boundaries you want, and I’ll keep them. Simple as that.” Varona offered him her hand again, her gaze defiant and steady. He stared at it hesitantly. More than anything, he wanted to believe this would work. But he’d been tricked too many times to accept it. “... I don’t think I can believe you.” His voice was below a whisper. “I’m not asking for your belief.” She gave him a small smile. “I’m asking for your trust. I’ve been *giving* you *my* trust since I brought you in here. I’m taking a huge risk for you. The second someone in town finds this place and links it to me, I’ve given myself a death sentence.” She hesitated, her smile faltering for a few moments, being replaced by realization. “Maybe even given Louis one.” Varona shut her eyes tight, despising the possibility that she could find her brother on a pyre one day. Slowly, she opened them and saw Owen shaking as much as she was. Clearly, they both cared dearly for the mayor. “But Louis trusts you,” She explained quietly. “He trusts you, and he cares about you. And if he trusts you, then that's enough for me.” Owen's brow creased as he swallowed hard. He bit his lip hard, a metallic taste entering his mouth. He moved his hazel gaze to meet her somber eyes and took in a shaky breath. “I guess-” He cut off, swallowing again. “I guess I can spare some of my trust, then. If it’s to you… if it’s to Louis…” Varona smiled grimly. “That’s all I can ask from you.” “How does it work?” Owen frowned in thought. “Surely it’s not just… You chant some words and suddenly–behold!–I'm cured!” The witch laughed dryly. “No. No, that is a *grossly* oversimplified explanation of it. If it works at all, it’ll take at *least* a few days, and even then, things have to go *perfectly*. I can’t mess up a single minuscule step, and you can’t even get *close* to making a wrong move. If one thing goes wrong, *everything* topples. I won’t be able to try again without the chance that I end both our lives. Do you still want to risk it?” “*What* can’t I mess up? You’re being very shadowy about this.” Varona hesitated before letting out a long breath. “You can’t get anywhere near Louis for the next week. You can’t even *think* about him. For a week, you have to *block him out*.” Owen paused, reading her gaze. “... What? … why…?” “Too many emotions–especially strong ones–can throw the spell off, and it won’t know what it’s trying to heal. I see the way you and Louis look at each other: do you think I’d be doing this if I didn’t? I know how he makes you feel. He can get in the way of all of this if you aren’t careful.” “But I-” “I *know*. I hate that that's how it works, but it is. No extreme temperatures, no extreme movements, and no extreme emotions. Only neutrals. That’s how my magic works.” The witch frowned as Owen crossed his arms tightly, deep in thought. “It’s not forever,” She tried. “It’s only a week. And it’s not going to kill anything if you mess with the spell.” “Nothing except me,” He spat back. “If this doesn’t work, what will?” Varona swallowed hard, forcing a secret down. No, no. That wasn’t hers to share. Louis would tell him when it mattered. ‘I hope…’