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The emerald green sheets on the bed were made of the same liquid silk as the black slip I was wearing, and the duvet and pillows were stuffed with down.
The very small movements I had made to observe my surroundings seemed to have taken their toll, as my eyelids once again felt heavy. I tried to close them, but the moment I did, I was plagued with memories. Visions of blood spilling down Clair’s front forced my eyes back open, and my throat caught. A deep sob built in my chest, and try as I might, I could not push it down. How was I ever going to rest if every time I closed my eyes, I watched my mother die? Or when I saw Jeremy’s confused face as he watched me abandon him to deal with the grief of Clair’s death alone?
How could I face anything when I had so spectacularly let down the only two people who had ever bothered to care for me?
The sob originally born from grief rolled into another one, fueled by my self-hatred. Pathetic. I was a pathetic, worthless -
The door across from the bed flew open, and I flinched. It looked like it led into a hallway that continued the natural cave theme of the room. Outlined in the warm light from the hallway were three familiar figures. Conrad led the way with Meredith and Rycon trailing behind him.
I flinched away from them, curling into myself, my arms wrapping around my head.
No, no, no, no, I chanted in my head. The door opened, and my friends' familiar faces brought me back to the concrete room Kieran had trapped me in. The weeks of torture he had forced me to endure in a time loop. He had one of his disciples, Maria, use her magic to create extremely believable illusions of my loved ones that would tell me over and over how they hated me, why I was a burden, a useless, pathetic piece of -
“Ray-ven,” Conrad soothed, his Jamaican accent adding music to my name. He rushed to my side, laying a hand on my shoulder. I stiffened at his touch. He was real. They were real. The illusions hadn't been corporeal. He was real. I choked on a sob again.
My muscles were beginning to seize up, and I realized I was shaking involuntarily. My body was cold, even beneath the sheets.
“I told you - she’s spiraling. It’s…unbearable.” Rycon said from the door. He must have alerted the magic folk that I was awake. He could feel everything I was feeling. I would have felt bad if everything that had happened wasn’t directly his fault. He had betrayed me. If he had not, Clair might have still been alive. I would not have been tortured.
“Shhh, hush Raven, we’re here,” Meredith whispered, coming up next to Conrad. Concern creased her brow. She ran her hand over the length of me, roughly a foot above the bed. I could feel her fingers brush the edges of my aura. A soft blue light shone from her fingertips, lighting up a series of what looked like strings made of light. They were a tangled mess of knots, the largest of which were glowing red with irritation.
“What is that?” I croaked at her, my teeth chattering despite the many layers of blankets surrounding me.
“It is a diagnostic spell. Your body and mind have suffered a great deal of stress. I am checking to make sure all is as it should be.”
“Well? Is it?” Rycon asked impatiently from the door. Meredith pursed her lips.
“Yes and no. Her internal wounds have healed. Physically she is alright. But her mind… the trauma she has endured. It is manifesting in symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder.”
“Well, that’s better than nothing, right? That means we aren't going to die?” Rycon asked, still keeping his distance. Conrad turned on him.
“Of course, that’s all yuh care ‘bout.” Suddenly I could smell the ocean. The salty hum of power always radiated from Conrad when he was upset. “Look pon her! She going into shock from di trauma, and all yuh care ‘bout is saving yuh own sorry hide.”
Rycon said nothing for once, and Meredith laid one hand on the Obeah Man’s arm while her other hand continued to work through the glowing knots in the diagnostic spell.
“Conrad, go find Kasha and have her bring the calming draught I have prepared. Conrad didn’t take his eyes off the panther shifter, a muscle in his jaw twitching. Finally, he nodded and stalked from the room, intentionally slamming his shoulder into Rycon as he passed.
“What’s his prob-” Rycon started to say before Meredith interrupted him sharply.
“Leave us.” She snapped in an uncharacteristic show of temper. Rycon narrowed his eyes at her, and I thought he would argue. Instead, he turned sharply on his heels and vanished into the hall, slamming the door behind him. I winced at the sound of the door, and Meredith noticed that my reaction to the sound caused one of the knots in my aura to flash red in alarm.
“Is the door a trigger?” She asked. I nodded wordlessly. I hadn't had a chance to share what had happened to me while Kieran had me trapped in that time loop. I didn’t even know if I could tell them. I could barely manage the memory without going into shock. I didn’t think I could speak the words out loud.
Meredith nodded tersely and waved her free hand to the door, which swung open and stayed open.
“We will leave it open then.” She said, and I was grateful she did not press any further.
3
With another wave of her free hand, she called one of the chairs by the table in the room to her, and she sat while she continued her work, trying to make sense of the diagnostic. Her face remained grave. We sat in silence for a few moments before I finally spoke again.
“How long have I been out,” I asked, watching her elegant fingers work the long glowing threads as if she were a weaver seated before a loom.
“Five days.”
My eyes widened. Five days? “You were very close to dying when we first brought you here. You used up almost every drop of your life force on the docks. I was very…we were very worried you would not make it.”
But of course, I had made it, clawed my way from the brink of death like some sort of cockroach. Lucky me.
