Archive of Our Own

The curtains waved in the cool breeze from the open window. Birds sang outside, the sun was shining, all in all, a perfect autumn day.

Douxie sat at the table, his half-eaten cereal long since soggy, his head in his hands. Usually, he would have downed the bowl, and another besides, but for the past few days, he couldn’t bring himself to finish a meal. Just the thought of food sent his stomach roiling. Even though he sat in the path of the cool breeze, it was far too warm.

They had returned to Arcadia a couple of months ago, after the Arcane Order had somehow redeemed themselves? Douxie was unsure of how that had happened, but every so often, he would hear of Skrael turning up at Claire’s house to discuss a new article he had found. Douxie still hadn’t wrapped his head around it, but Nari was thrilled at the development.

“Douxie, my boy? Are you all right?” The table shook as Archie jumped onto it. He pawed at the bowl. “Not hungry again, I see?”

Douxie waved a hand at the dragon-in-cat form. “If you want it, it’s yours.”

Archie delicately sniffed the soggy cereal, long since room temperature. “No thank…Douxie, are you quite alright? You looked flushed.”

“Just warm.” Douxie shifted in his seat, wincing as a searing sudden pain flared in his side, and rested his head on his arm, pushing the bowl away with his other hand.

Archie’s rough nose was cool on his forehead. “I say, you do seem to have a fever. Stay here.” The table shook again as Archie jumped off.

His stomach roiled again, and Douxie breathed in through his nose deeply. He had the flu a few times, though his magic lessoned the effects greatly. This felt different. The flu was never this…central, this focused on one part of his body. The ache in his side had only increased over the past few days. Archie arrived, and placed one paw on his leg.

“Douxie?” the paw pressed into his thigh, demanding his attention. He jumped on the table when that attention was not forthcoming, and placed something long and cool in his hand. “Care to do an old dragon a favor, hmm?”

He cracked open one eye, regarding the thermometer warily. “Fine.”

“Really? You must truly be ill, then!” Archie’s eyes were fixed on Douxie, the wizard wincing and placing a hand on his right side. “Still bothering you?”

“Yeah. I think it’s hurting worse.” They were out of sleeves for the digital thermometer, but a thorough wipe and a promise to clean it properly later, and it was clamped in his mouth. His stomach roiled. Archie removed it after it beeped.

“Hmm,” he pawed it around the table, peering at its display through his glasses. “A little high, not as bad as your last fever 200 years ago, but still highly unusual for you.”

Douxie grunted, breathing sharply out of his nose as his side twinged again. “Time to see Sir Jim’s Mother then.” Archie’s tone left no room for complaining. A rough nose pushed at his hand. “Up and at em, old boy.” His friend’s mom was not his personal nurse, and he refused to take advantage of her on her week off. At least, that is what he hoped his additional grunt conveyed.

“Now now, none of that! I am sure it will be far easier to visit her…Unless you wish me to send for one of your friends to take you to the doctors, hmmm?”

Oh, you evil dragon. “Fine.” He pushed away from the table, slowly and stiffly getting to his feet. “Fine.”

“Fine? Somehow I expected more resistance out of you.”

Douxie tapped on his cellphone, sending a quick text to Jim. There was very good odds that him and his mother were out enjoying their time together, and not at home. At least, he hoped.

Hey man, what’s up?

Archie is insisting that I see your mother. Something about a low-grade fever.

A fever? You ok man?

I’m fine. But he’s threatening me with the hospital. It’s not that bad, perhaps your mom can convince him?

Hold on.

…

Sure.

Ok, brt

Douxie waved his hand over the door, unlocking it and slowly walking through. The phone dinged before he could close and reseal it.

Since you don’t have a car, we’ll be right there to get you.

Douxie shut and resealed the door with an absented minded wave, Archie standing guard at his feet. I’ll be fine to walk. It’s nice out.

Nope. Mom’s insistent and already otw. Wait outside.

He leaned his head back on the wall, letting the hand holding the phone hang free. “Well?”

Douxie looked down at Archie, “The fair Dr Lake is on her way as we speak.” Wonderful. Here he was, imposing on his friend and his family’s free time with a little fever and bellyache.

“Ah, that is good news!” A nudge from the dragon was unsuccessful in getting Douxie to move off of the door. “Now don’t be like that!” Another nudge, “Off you go!”

“Fine, fine. Pushy.”

“What did you say?”

Any witty comeback was quelled by a wave of nausea and a quick stab of pain. Douxie hissed, placing a hand over his right side. “Fine.” He stumbled off, each step sending a spike of pain up his side.

Dr Lake met him halfway up the stairs, and placed a firm hand on one elbow. How fast does that woman drive? She glanced quickly at his face, then down to Archie. “How bad was his fever?”

“A little over 100.”

“Any pain?”

“My,” gasp. Great, way to sound mature. Idiot. “Side.”

“Which side—point it out to me.”

He motioned to his right side with his left hand, his right caught up in Dr Lake’s surprisingly strong grasp.

Her brows furrowed. “How long has your side been hurting, any nausea?”

Douxie shrugged. “A few days, uhm…” a shallow breath through his nose. “Nausea this morning.” Dr Lake guided them down the last few steps to the car. She opened the passenger door and lowered him into the seat.

“I can buckle myself, you know,” Dr Lake was close, her eyes fixed on his face. Douxie hoped his smile was disarming. Apparently, it was not when she leaned closer.

“I need to test something. Ready?”

Confused, Douxie nodded. What would she need to test? Dr Lake pressed gently but firmly on his lower right abdomen. He was fine, a few days rest and---AH! His world went white at the sudden flareup of pain when she removed her hand. He hissed through his teeth. Dr Lake turn to talk to Archie.  “Thank you for contacting me, Archie.” She reached over, buckling Douxie’s seatbelt. “You very likely have appendicitis, and we are going straight to the hospital.”

“No-no need to do that,” he tried to wave her away, tears forming in his eyes. Stupid pain reflex. Dr Lake ignored him. “Unless you are a registered service animal, Archie, I can’t take you with us.” She took Douxie’s phone and handed it to the dragon, “I promise to send frequent updates.”

“I. Am. Fine.” Douxie tried to grab his phone, but a firm hand and a Mom Look from Dr Lake stilled him.

“No, no you are most certainly not fine. You are going to the hospital, young man.” She closed the door.

Dr Lake’s Mom Voice was just as bad as her Mom Look. Douxie swore that if he could bring that into battle, no foe would ever dare face him. She slid into the driver’s seat, tapping on her phone. The car started with a happy chime, and she pulled away from the curb.

“Hello?” a voice echoed over the speakers. Ah, she had hooked her phone up to the car’s stereo system. Fancy technology, that.

“Dr Lake here. Matthew, I have a patient I am bringing into the ER, I think he has appendicitis.”

Douxie leaned his head on the window. Dr Lake looked over to him. “Do you have your ID with you?”

He shook his head, “No, Archie can get it for you.”

“Is that the patient?” The voice on the car speakers asked.

“Yes.”

“Does he look as bad as he sounds?”

Douxie scowled, “Thanks. Love you too.”

The voice chuckled, and Dr Lake smiled. “Yes, nausea, low grade fever, stomach pain when I released pressure, guarding, all the classic symptoms. I’d like to order an MRI after he’s checked in.”

“Sure,” the voice confirmed, “I will get that started while the ER processes him. Any insurance card?”

She looked over at Douxie. Uhg…his wallet was on his dresser. He did have insurance…special privately funded Wizard insurance, a legacy gift from a family he had saved from a rabid hellhound a few decades ago. He nodded, “At home.”

“I will provide you with it later. See you in a bit.” The line clicked as the phone disconnected, and the car gave a cheery little chime as it also disconnected from the bluetooth.

The drive was not long, but Douxie had to smile at Dr Lake’s soft curses at every red light. He was not yet comfortable calling Jim’s Mother “Barbara”, old rules hammered into his head by Merlin, he guessed.

“Sit up, Douxie. We are here.” That was the fastest longest car ride ever. He felt every single bump and imperfection in the road. Seriously, the road department needed to get their act together. Maybe he could cast a few asphalt smoothing spells when all this was over? He reluctantly removed his forehead from the cool window as Dr Lake undid his seat belt. A young man, dressed in a lab coat and blue scrubs, opened his door. “Welcome to the ER.” Ah, and here is the body that belonged to the voice.

Douxie grunted as the man placed a hand under his elbow. “Come one, let’s get you inside.” He hissed as a stab of pain almost eclipsed a wave of nausea. “One step,” the man’s voice was soothing, almost the complete opposite of Dr Lake’s Mom Voice. But still commanding, perhaps he has a siren in his ancestry? “Step here,” a gentle nudge with a toe placed one leg. “And down ya go, young man.” He was lowered into a wheelchair.

“Really? I can walk you know.”

The man shook his head. “Not on my watch.” He leaned forward, and whispered a great secret into Douxie’s ear. “This way, I can get you out of the waiting room faster, some poor kid stubbed their toe and is screaming bloody murder.” Douxie winced in sympathy, both for the pain of stubbing a toe, and the ears of everyone in the waiting room.

The doors whooshed open, and sterile air scented with bleach assaulted his nose. Dr Lake patted his shoulder. “I am going to talk with the receptionist while Matthew takes your vitals.” Matthew wheeled him into a side room then patted and poked at Douxie. He placed a sleeve on his arm, raising one eyebrow at the arcane bracer, placed a clip over his index finger, and took his temp.

“Please, call me Matt,” he scribbled something on his clipboard. “And what shall I call you besides ‘You have insurance but someone will be bringing it by later’?”

Douxie couldn’t help the smile. “Douxie.”

A pair of eyes regarded him from over the clipboard. “Is that your full name, or a nickname?”

“Nickname. Hisirdoux Casperan.”

An eyebrow raised. “Douxie it is,” he scribbled a few more times.

Dr Lake walked in, taking the clipboard from Matt. “Well, I can’t be your assigned doctor just yet, as I am not supposed to be here,” Matt scoffed, rolling his eyes at her ,”But after Matt is done with your vitals you are going in for an MRI.” She eyed his bracer. “I’m afraid you will have to remove anything metal.”

“Ah,” Douxie looked down at his bracer. He really didn’t want to remove it. “Can it stay on? Is an MRI really needed?”

“Yes, it’s needed, and I’m afraid you can’t take that with you. It will interfere with the machine. But,” she placed a hand on his arm, just above the bracer, “I will watch over it with my life.”

Matt didn’t flinch. Huh, apparently “prized magical possessions” was far from the strangest thing he’s had to deal with on a daily basis.

But Douxie didn’t remember telling her what the bracer was, but he wasn’t surprised at her response; so many strange things that happened to her son and friends that if something was important to someone, there was a good reason.

Douxie smiled. “Thank you, m’lady.” He felt naked without his bracer, but reluctantly placed it in Dr Lake’s care along with a few other metal ornamentations. The air was cool on his arm, and his wrist paler from the lack of sunlight. The scars through still visible, had also faded; Zoe was trying out some new scar cream. He would have to report the effects to her soon.

Once done, Matt wheeled him out of the room, down a few non-descript identical hallways—how does anyone ever find their way around in these places—and into a room with a large, humming machine. A tech nodded to Matt as he helped Douxie sit on the thin bed that fed into the machine’s gaping maw.

The MRI was a strange machine, and not one Douxie cared much for. The tube in the metal and plastic machine was slightly larger than he was, and the whole thing hummed deeply. He felt a pull on him, the massive magnetic field interacting with his magic.

“Lay still,” there was a speaker somewhere in the machine. There had to be. No massive, magnetic, wizard-eating machine could sound anywhere near that cheerful. It was very hard to lay still. “Doing good, almost done.” The tech droned on. The bed retracted into the machine, the humming louder. Douxie couldn’t hide the wince as it pulled on his magic. The sheets balled up under his fists.

The MRI technician walked out, waving Matt over. “Dr Smythe will take you to your room.”

“Wait, my room?”

Matt leaned over the wheelchair handles. “We aren’t checking you in just yet. It’ll be one of the beds in the emergency ward.”

Douxie sighed with relief, pushing him down the hallway. “That’s good, I would hate to impose on your…” he glanced around at the sterile white walls. “Hospitality?”

Matt laughed, a quick huff. “Of course—” his pocket beeped, and he stopped walking as he consulted his phone. “Hmm, when was the last time you ate?”

Odd question. “Breakfast, half a bowl of cereal, why?”

Matt repeated the answer into his phone, then turned the chair around. “Where are we going?”

He patted Douxie’s shoulder. “Looks like not only was Dr Lake right, but things are more serious than we thought. I have to prep you for surgery, your appendix is about to burst.”

**

Sunlight streamed in through the window, warming his face. Everything was pleasantly numb, a distant ache in his stomach, a small pinch and some itching that he could ignore for now on one arm. Soft beeping somewhere off to one side. Something was shoved up his nose. Equally soft voices.

A cool hand on left arm…wait, where was his bracer, “Shhhh…” Dr Lake’s Calming Mom Voice overrode his panic. “I have your bracer in my purse.”

He slowly cracked his eyes open, blinking blearily. She smiled. “Jim told me what it was and how important it is to you. We figured out how to keep it around you at all times, even if you can’t wear it for a few days, Doctor’s Orders.” A small bit of Mom Voice growled. She tightened her grip slightly on his arm.  “You are very lucky, Douxie. Your appendix almost burst when it was removed.”

He wrinkled his nose. Dr Lake chuckled. “When your nurse looks you over, I can ask to have the cannula removed. It’s standard procedure for people coming out of surgery.”

“Thank you,” the words grated out of a too-dry mouth. “How is Archie handling this?”

“He is beside himself.” She smiled sadly, “He blames himself for letting this get as bad as it did. He needs to see you, but you won’t be leaving here until sometime tomorrow.” Dr Lake leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “Because this was an emergency operation, and your appendix so inflamed, we had to do an open surgery. It will take a bit longer to recover.”

“Uhg…the café—”

“Don’t worry about it. As you Doctor, officially now, and friend, I personally delivered your excuse. You are out of work for a week, and on light duty for another week.” She squeezed his wrist. “They miss you and wish you a speedy recovery.” She leaned back. “But, enough of that, you have visitors.”

Jim, Steve, Toby, and Claire waked in, Toby in an extra-large coat. Archie peaked his head out. Douxie’s face lit up, “Archie!”

The cat placed a paw over his mouth, “I am not here, old chap.” He looked closely, and Douxie felt as though his longtime friend was examining every scar and thread of fabric the was over him. “How do you feel?”

He shrugged as his friends found seats around the small, cramped room. Dr Lake bid her son farewell, and handed him a small bag which must have contained the bracer. “Sore, tired. Numb.” He smacked his lips, “Thirsty.”

“I’ll get you something,” Steve waltzed out of the room, returning immediately with a nurse. “Uh…here’s a nurse for you, man. Dr Lake sent her.”

She placed a pitcher of water on the side table. The woman, Nurse Jack, had skin as dark as the night sky and her hair done in neat rows. “Hello, Douxie, I will be your nurse for today. I see you have your friends over.” She looked over to them. “I am going to have to ask you to wait outside for a few minutes while I tend to your friend. I will let you know when I am done. You can wait in the waiting room just down the hall.”

She removed the bothersome cannula, and smiled as Douxie scrunched up his face. “Horrid thing.”

Nurse Jack smiled, “I am going to inspect the incision site.” The air of the room was cool as she lifted aside the hem of his surgical gown. She had arranged the blanket to preserve what little modesty he had left. The surgery site was a few inches long; a tidy line of stitches, by far tidier than any he’s ever done. She looked up at him with one graceful eyebrow raised. “You’ve lived an exciting life, I see.” Scars littered his body, in all shapes and configurations. The appendectomy incision crossed two other scars.

Douxie chuckled, “You could say that, fair lady.” She took his vitals.

“I see we have ourselves a charmer.” She smiled, but ever the professional, assisted him in tending to his needs, leaving the room as he did so. Archie peaked out from under the bed. “I was worried.”

“Me too.”

Nurse Jack walked back in, and after settling Douxie more comfortably in the bed, sitting up so he could drink easier, she allowed his friends back in to enjoy the rest of visiting hours.

**

The guest room of Jim’s house was also the home office. A large, ancient oak desk lorded over one wall, the futon hiding in shame across from it. Douxie sprawled over the thin mattress, one foot hanging off of the edge, blankets piled up next to the wall, pillow half under his head, and half squished against the armrest. He blinked slowly, the sun warm on his chest, Archie draped over his left side and one leg, snoring softly as only cats can, one foot twitching in sleep. Dr lake had insisted he stay with them for a few days after he was released from the hospital, stating something along the lines of not liking how he was progressing.

Douxie was in no condition to argue with the woman, he swore she could make mountains jump if she so ordered it of them. But, she had a point. He felt heavy, his limbs weighed down with bricks when in reality all he wore were some oversized sweats, a large tee shirt, and a sleeping dragon-turned-cat. Shouldn’t he hurt, or ache? The painkillers could not be that good. He lifted one hand, briefly examining his fingers. Numb, but present. Not quite the tingling sensation of asleep, but…distant.

“Good morning, Douxie.” Dr Lake entered the room, carrying a plate of food. Douxie’s stomach grumbled in greeting. He never could get used to calling her “Barbara”, not matter how many times she insisted. She smiled, “I do so like that sound.” She placed the plate on a side table, before pulling the chair over from the desk and sat. “How do you feel?”

“Hmmm…numb. Kinda heavy?” He furrowed his eyebrows. Were those slurred words his?

She placed a hand on his arm, her eyes full of worry. “Let me help you sit up, you need to eat something.”

A firm hand on his back, and a reshuffling of legs and one sleepy cat later, and Douxie leaned on pillows piled up behind him and the wall. His side ached distantly. He placed one hand over the wound. “I need to look at that,” a slim hand reached out, “may I?”

Douxie nodded, and she lifted the hem of the shirt, the air cool against his stomach. He could feel the pull of the bandages and she looked at the incision. “Hmm, it looks good, no reddening, swelling, or heat.” Soft fingers gently probed the skin around the wound, “You appear to be healing well.” She looked up at him as she replaced his shirt. “But you do not seem to be recovering well.”

“Sorry love, one of the few things I was able to avoid in my long life was an emergency appendectomy,” he paused, taking in a breath. Even speaking was hard, he had to force out every word, “Never had a surgery, or anything like it before.” He shrugged.

“I will never get used to how old you are,” Dr Lake handed him the plate. A simple dish of rice, fruit, and other gentle on the stomach foods. “Make sure you drink all of that,” she motioned to a glass of water, complete with a straw. “Do you need another pain pill?”

“No, please,” Douxie shook his head. The powerful pain medications never did agree with his stomach. Besides, he wasn’t in pain, just…heavy. And foggy, and numb, and tired…he yawned.

“You had better eat that,” Archie paused in cleaning a paw, “I do say it appears to make a better meal than pillow.”

“Ha Ha.” Douxie nibbled at the food. It was tasty, he wondered if this was the result of Jim’s legendary cooking skills. He made sure to finish every crumb of food, and drink every drop of water lest he face the wrath of Dr Lake.

It took a few seconds for Douxie to recognize his cell phone ringing. “Hallo?” he answered through a deep yawn.

“Good gods, Doux, are you okay? I heard you had to go to the hospital, what happened?”

Oh no. It was Zoe. She was going to be pissed. She had been out of town until, a quick look at a calendar on the wall, yesterday. He never did call her. “Appendix had to go.”

“Oh man. You sound awful.” Huh. She didn’t sound angry. Worried, certainly. But the heat and…volume of her anger were not present. Something was going on. But his mind was too foggy to figure it out. If he needed to know, he trusted her to tell him. “Hey..uh..is Claire around?”

“Claire?” Archie’s ears perked up. Oh yeah…speaker phone. He didn’t recall hitting that button. Did Zoe just reach through his phone? Could she do that? Something was certainly amiss. He should be worried, but the emotion couldn’t push past the fog in his head.

“Yeah, I’ve been helping her with some of the basics while you were taking care of Nari. She around?”

“Lemmee ask.” He dropped the phone in his lap, “Hey Arch..”

“I’m on it.” The cat-dragon picked up the phone in the teeth, sauntering out of the room in truly catlike fashion. Douxie grinned, settling back onto the futon and was soon fast asleep.

**

Zoe held onto the doorframe to the guest room, her other hand held a plastic shopping bag crammed with spare clothes and toiletries. She hoped she was able to grab his toothbrush. Her eyes were fixed on Douxie. Her heart skipped a beat; he was so still. He should never be this still. He always moved and twitched, no matter how deeply asleep he was. She bit her fist, she couldn’t lose him. Not again. Zoe hadn’t been there the first time he died, and it haunted her.

But now…Douxie’s apartment over the bookstore was in shambles. Zoe knew he was at Barbara and Jim’s house, recovering, and nowhere near his flat, but her world ground to a stop when she received the panicked call from Edward, Douxie’s tenant.

Douxie grunted softly, and the world continued to move forward.

After the debacle that was a recent adventure; with Douxie moving to New York for a few months while the Arcane Order figured itself out, and the chaos of rebuilding the ruined bookstore. Wizards tended to invest in robust insurance policies, and they had used the extra funds to turn the upper floor into a suite of two small apartments, some bookstore space, and a modest wizard workshop. The other apartment was rented out to a young hedge wizard who worked with Zoe at Hex Tech. Douxie’s wifi has never been better. Zoe questioned Edward relentlessly when she saw Douxie’s door, kicked free of its hinges. She couldn’t tell if his apartment had been ransacked or not; the wizard tended to live in a whirlwind of chaos.

The terrified young man had heard the commotion, then hid, and had not seen anything. He did hear people yelling. “Where is the wizard?!? Find the wizard!” Zoe swore the poor man had wet himself.

She took a few steps into the guest room, enough to fall to her knees by Douxie’s side. Archie rubbed against her. “Thank you for handing the phone to Claire. I couldn’t risk having them follow me.” At Dr Lake’s questioning look, she shook her head, mouthing “later”. She placed a hand on Douxie’s arm. First things first. She had to gather some details from his time at the hospital. He shifted in his sleep. “Do you have a copy of his medical records?”

Barbara rested a hip on the old desk. “You know I can’t give you those. Privacy reasons, you understand.”

“I do,” Zoe smiled up at her. “But there is nothing in there I don’t already know,” she raised a hand, “However, I only need to know what drugs he was given. Douxie is stubborn, and has been largely able to avoid hospitals, but other hedge witches are not so lucky. We’ve learned a few things on how modern medicine and magic react with each other.” She placed the bag on the floor, where Archie pawed at it.

“Ah, thank you,” his nose wrinkled, “But was it necessary to bring his dirty socks?”

“I brought the only socks I could find, Arch.” Zoe looked at her old friend. He was pale, but relaxed, and calmer than she had seen him in a century at least. “Modern painkillers and wizards don’t really mix. I have some information on which drugs do what, but I need to know what he was given.” Zoe pulled out some papers from the bag. Uhg, Douxie really did need to do laundry.

Barbara nodded. “That, I can tell you. Currently, he’s on Vicodin,” Zoe winced, “and in the hospital, he had a morphine drip.”

“And the anesthetic?”

“His main anesthetic was Propofol.” She looked down at Douxie. “There were others in the mix, I can get you that information later.”

The witch nodded. “Thank you. Propofol is not too bad,” Zoe stood, smoothing out her black pants. “It’s the morphine and Vicodin I worry about. When was his last dose of morphine?”

“Hmm…yesterday.”

“And the Vicodin?”

“This morning.”

Zoe sighed deeply. “Has he mentioned feeling heavy, or numb?”

“Both. Look Zoe, I am so sorry, had I known—” Zoe stopped her with one hand.

“You couldn’t have known. If it was an emergency, it was an emergency. All I care about is that he is alive, you know?” Zoe turned to face Barbara, Archie a comforting warmth on her calves. “He’s going to be feeling heavy and numb for a few days, until it’s all out of his system. If he can handle the pain, I suggest no more Vicodin. Aspirin is okay, though.” She handed the papers to Barbara. “I printed out common reactions, as well as medicines we know are safe. I don’t know how well they work with Changelings, though.”

Barbara took the papers with a grateful nod. “Thank you.”

“Mmm…Zoe?” She turned, Douxie blinked up at her with bleary eyes. “Good day, love. What,” yawn, a slight stretch, a barely hidden wince, “brings you to my bedside?”

She could tell Douxie he was almost a victim of a kidnapping attempt or robbery or something after he was  more coherent. “Your dirty socks,” she toed at the bag.

“Hmm, much obliged.” His brow furrowed. “You called my phone asking for Claire to get my dirty socks?”

“No, I called your phone to see if you were Okay. Being able to talk to Claire was a bonus.”

“Why Claire?” She helped him sit up, padding his back with pillows.

“I needed to get here as quick as possible, your socks are disgusting.”

“Ha ha ha.” Douxie levered himself up, scooting back to lean against the wall. He looked adorably ruffled, his hair sticking up in all directions. Her face fell a bit. He looked so small and vulnerable, pale in the too-large tee shirt and baggy pants.

She sat next to him, and handed him his refilled waterglass. Douxie reached for it, Zoe narrowed her eyes. He was hit very hard by the drugs. His hand shook slightly, and it took him a couple of tries to take the glass. He did not succeed; Zoe would not let him take the glass without her bearing its weight. Hedge wizards and witches who were stronger reported more severe affects from the painkillers. He had become much stronger in the past few months. She looked at Douxie, his eyes distant and sunken.

“You are going to feel better soon.” He smiled as he handed the glass back to her. More like, let go of the glass so she could take it from him.

“That is good news.”

“Dr Lake, how long is Vicodin and Morphine in the system?”

“The Morphine will be gone in a day, and in four days, the Vicodin will be gone.” She sat on the desk chair, leaning forward on her knees. “No work for you, until I clear you, young man.” Zoe blinked, that was a powerful Mom Voice.

“Yes m’am.”

“Until then, you have earned your rest,” Barbara smiled, and placed a hand on his shoulder. She looked over to Zoe. “Since you seem to know more about these effects than I do, what do we have to look forward to in the next few days?”

“Laundry, I hope,” Archie poked at the bag with one paw.

“Not my job,” Zoe held up her hands, she could practically hear Douxie rolling his eyes. “He will sleep…like, a lot. Won’t eat much, but he’ll need to. He will need to drink water, try and dissolve some vitamins in it. He’ll be numb, and heavy-feeling for a few days, at least. And he should walk whenever possible, but with an escort—his balance will be terrible and he will run into everything.”

“He is also right here, I’ll have you know.”

“And he will be grumpy, since he will be fatigued.”

Douxie scoffed, and crossed his arms. The effect of the pout was lost to a yawn. “Fine, fine.” He leaned back, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. “I see how I rate.”

Archie hopped up on the bed, purring against his side, careful to not apply pressure on the incision. Zoe snuggled into his side, pulling out her phone and scrolling through her games. Archie increased his purr as Douxie’s head lolled to one side, resting on the top of Zoe’s pink hair. Barbara smiled, and closed the door behind her as she left.

**

The night was cool, autumn just hinting the late summer air. The leaves on a few trees had started to turn, glowing in the streetlights. Douxie sighed, pausing in his walk to rub his lower back. The café had put him on light duty for two weeks—an additional week than needed. Dr Lake had leveraged her Mom Look at him when she went with him to turn in his doctor’s note, and he thought the extra light duty was to placate her, and not help him.

But the stool by the cash register was hard. His tasks were limited to making—but not serving—drinks, inputting orders, easy stuff. He missed the small talk with customers, but not bussing tables. All in all, not a bad break.

It had been 4 days from his surgery. 2 more days and the last of the Vicodin would be out of his system. While he missed the pain-numbing effects, he did not miss the heaviness of his limbs or how very hard it was to cast even the simplest spells. Dr lake had let him go back to the café early, as they were swamped, if he agreed to stay living in their guest room. He also needed the money. While it was simple for a long-lived wizard to save up a considerable sum, the IRS would question where his ability to pay for rent came from. He would rather face the Green Man again than the IRS.

Archie padded next to him. “Holding up alright, Douxie?”

“I have sat on rocks that were more comfortable than that stool,” he continued walking. “I’ll recover.”

“Glad to hear you are following the good doctor’s orders.”

Douxie scoffed, “And anger that woman! My, Archie, I thought you had a higher opinion of my intelligence than that!”

Archie stopped suddenly, ears swiveling. “We are not alone—”

A net of dark blue magic flew out of a nearby tree’s branches. Archie dodged, but Douxie raised an arm to cast a magical shield.

A shield that sputtered and failed. Douxie gasped as the power flared and swept from him, draining what little energy he had. “Douxie!” Archie bit and clawed at the net, but a flash of magic pulsed through it and he fell back.

Douxie gasped, “Get help!”

“No, I’m not leaving you!”

Douxie pushed weakly at the net. Two figures dropped from the tree, a third emerged from the shadows of a nearby alley. “Run Arch!”

Archie looked over his shoulder, then ran off into the shadows.

“This a wizard? Dun look like much.” The man was a hulking brute, appearing more muscle than brain.

“Ai, right he is.” A voice hissed, one of the figures who had dropped out of the tree. He knelt down, his eyes glinted in the streetlights. One hand darted out, grabbing Douxie’s hair and part of the net. His grip was far stronger than it looked like it should be; the arm that reached out was thin and boney. The other arm, equally thin but covered in a lacework of scars, reached through the net and grabbed Douxie’s neck.

The wizard grabbed the hand, trying to force it off. “Hmm, no magic, boy?”

“Sure it’s him,” Brute crossed his arms.

“Be fast,” the third figure whispered.

Boney grunted, and Douxie could feel a flare of magic not his own, and the world fell out of beneath him.

**

“…s….ur….hunt?”

“Very good….ster….umor….Merlin’s Last….rentice…”

His arms ached. The floor was cold and hard under his hip, one of his legs was tingly. At least it got a good sleep. Uhg, he stank, he had worked at the café and even though he had sat all day, it was still warm. His arms had to be above his head to stink this bad. A soft tug on his arms, his wrists complained. Ah yes, above his head.

“Waking up?” Heavy stomping feet. Whatever was attached to them had to be large and heavy. Some kind of troll? It would be his luck if it was some kind of troll.

Douxie cracked open one eye. There were in fact two trolls, one thin with horns coming from its shoulders, the other a tall and bulky Gumm Gumm, one of its horns was broken. The thin troll knelt down, folding its lanky legs to look Douxie in the eye—or as close as it could. It reached out a claw, and poked Douxie in the shoulder. That was a familiar arm. This must by Boney. With its other hand, the arm scarred almost to the point of being misshaped, it pulled a gem from a pouch.

Boney’s free hand held Douxie’s head still, gripped in a surprisingly tight grasp. He grunted. The gem was cool on his forehead. A soft blue glow filled the room.

“Powerful,” Boney grunted, “strange…” the glow sputtered and faded. Boney sneered into Douxie’s face. “What is wrong with you, wizard?”

What? Douxie looked back at him blankly. Ah yes, that whole “modern painkiller” issue. His magic was recovering, but it was spotty and unpredictable. One moment, he could levitate a book—something he has done thousands of times—and then at the next moment he would drop the book if he was lucky, or it would shoot across the room if he was not. The gem flared blue again in the thin troll’s hand.

Douxie tried to shrug, but opted for sitting closer to the wall and reliving the pressure off of his hip. He had been sitting oddly. His leg started to tingle horribly as feeling returned to it. He twitched that leg, trying to relieve the discomfort.

Boney looked from the gem to Douxie then back to the gem. His large companion stalked forward. “Explain yourself.”

Douxie blinked up at the brute. Brute, that’s what he’ll be called. That was a good name. He could feel his magic responding to the gem, pulling on him the same uncomfortable way that the MRI machine did. He closed his eyes, and focused on blocking the flow, but his unreliable magic would not cooperate. A rough, callused hand forced him to look up, tilting his head at an uncomfortable angle.

“What is wrong with you?” Brute hissed.

By Merlin’s greasy beard, the troll’s breath was horrid. Douxie tried to move his head out of the miasma, but Brute’s rocky hand kept him still. The gem flared blue. He hoped that the trolls would not catch on that his magic was connected to his emotions. He concentrated on breathing through his nose, his eyes watering. “Your breath…it’s horrendous.”

Brute released his chin roughly. Douxie winced at the sharp rap of his head hitting the stone wall. Brute stabbed a thick, stubby finger at Boney, then at Douxie. “Fix it,” he ordered, the room shaking with his thundering steps as he stormed from the room.

Boney sat back on its haunches, regarding the flickering gem and Douxie in turn. Its uncanny eyes, a pale green flecked with yellow, stared up at the wizard. “Why am I here?” Douxie swallowed roughly.

His eyes followed the gem as Boney bounced it in its hand. The gem flickered the same blue as Douxie’s magic. The pull on his magic pulsed in time with the gem. Oh. Oh no. Merlin had told him of such gems; tools used to power all sorts of things. They were very similar in origin to the crystal in a wizard’s staff, though not as personal or as powerful. These smaller gems would pull magic from a wizard. While the magic would recover, it would leave him drained and vulnerable for a while. They were harvesting his magic. But for what?

A metal shrug. Probably a weapon of some kind, his mind supplied. If Brute was a Gumm Gumm, he might be trying to enact some sort of revenge. But wizard powered weapons had fallen out of favor centuries ago. They had proven too short lived and unreliable. Boney sat still, arms resting on his knees, gem held loosely in one hand.

Boney didn’t seem to be in a rush. Douxie was reminded of a time when he worked retail and was ordered to do something stupid—he still had to do it, but he certainly drug his heels. If Boney was the brains of this group, and he was trying for a wizard powered weapon, he would know the downfalls of what they were doing, and he had been unsuccessful in convincing Brute—who could kill him with his breath alone—of the facts. Douxie could see a workbench behind Boney, but his view was blocked.

He smirked inwardly, trying to be careful to keep it off of his face. Not much magic for them to harvest right now—he still had a couple of days before the last of the Vicoden was out of his system. But there was some magic, as the gem flared brightly then dimmed again. Boney glared at him.

“What are you going to use my magic for?” Might as well fill the time with talking, and maybe confirm his suspicion. Douxie had learned most trolls liked it when you were blunt and straightforward with them. He had no aspirations of turning Boney to his side, but he would like to avoid the wrath of Brute’s breath.

Boney’s eyes narrowed. “What is wrong with you, wizard?” its voice was low and raspy.

Douxie just stared up at it, the flickering blue glow of the gem shining in its eyes. He admired people who could wise crack and annoy their way out of a situation; this was not a skill he was well versed in. But he could stare with the best of them. Boney scoffed, standing up to pace.

The room was smallish, a stone workshop with a large sturdy table in the middle. Torches flickered along the walls, they shown brightly with no smoke; they had to be powered by magic. Douxie could see more of the table, but not what was on it. However, he did see bits of tools and the like sticking up and hanging over the edge. Boney tossed the gem onto the table. He looked down at Douxie. “If the rumors about you are correct, and you are Merlin’s apprentice, then,” he knelt down, his breath rank in Douxie’s face, “the other rumors might be correct as well. A few hedge witches and hedge wizards will power them gems just as well as a wizard. Perhaps, even a rumored apprentice, hmm?”

No! Not Claire! Douxie could not hide the terror on his face. Boney laughed, “It seems I should pay my informant more, hmm?”

His wrists screamed as he pulled on the chains.

Boney laughed, standing up. It passed a hand over a rune on the wall as it left, and the torches flared out, leaving Douxie in darkness.

**

Douxie was late. Zoe paced in Jim’s living room. The door was ajar, the air inside cooling rapidly as the sun set. She refused to shut the door—she had to make it as easy as possible for Archie to return, as Jim had not yet installed a cat door. Where was that wizard? She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

The door slammed open as Archie flew in, breathless. He pounced on Zoe, “Douxie’s been kidnapped!”

She held him, “Tell me everything!”

Zoe had finished the new wards on Douxie’s apartment, she was going to tell him when he came to Jim’s after work. But he never arrived. Jim darted out of his room, Strickler on his heels. Barbara was at work. “What is this about Douxie being kidnapped!” Jim had his cellphone in one hand, his knuckles white. Zoe traced a few simple wards in the air.

“It could be a trap.” She looked over at Jim. “Call Claire, have her on extraction duty. Have her place a tracer on everyone going like how I showed her to.” Jim nodded, tapping on his phone. “Call Toby, Steve, and AAARRRGGHH.”

“You’ve been thinking this over.” Archie stopped in his pacing to look up at her.

Zoe nodded, before turning to look at Strickler. “Feel like some old fashioned wizard hunting?” her voice lowered, “I got me a wizard of my own to get.”

Strickler’s eye glowed yellow for a fraction. He cracked his knuckles. “I would be glad to.”

**

Oh, that was a loud ruckus. Douxie’s head leaned on one arm, his wrists ached, but at least his arms were long enough for him to sit on the floor. The room was dark, except for the flickering blue glow of the gem. The light had been growing dimmer, as Douxie had been concentrating on breaking the tenuous bond between him and the stone.

Something slammed into the door. The light from the gem became diffuse in the dust falling from the ceiling, he hoped that whatever was fighting did not knock the cave in, well, at least until he was out of it.

Something large roared. That might be Brute. Douxie hoped it was Brute. Having to fight two of those trolls would be difficult. Fighting one would be difficult, but two…He pulled on the wrist restraints. He could feel the metal chafing. He stood, contorting in an uncomfortable twist learned in a dungeon in some drafty medieval castle. He ended up facing the wall, wrists crossed. In the brief flashes of blue, how could see the chain. It was fed through a thick ring in the wall, up the wall to another ring, then across the ceiling where it ended. No wonder the chain was the perfect length for him to sit; it was adjustable.

The crashing and roaring got louder, bits of stone fell from the ceiling. The gem flickered brighter as his emotions spiked. The door was outlined in flashes of oranges and pink. Firelight and….Zoe. Oh, if it was Zoe, Douxie did not envy the trolls that kidnapped him. She had plenty of anger to vent. He hoped that there were no more gems. She did not have as much magic as he did, but she had plenty to power one of those horrid gems.

The wall next to the door shattered, Toby standing triumphant holding his mace. Steven hollered something before running past him. Archie bounded into the room, “Zoe, he is here!”

“Archie!” Douxie called out, “On the table, a blue gem, can you destroy it?”

“How about I do you one better?” Archie braced himself, holding his legs out in midair, wings wide. He inhaled deeply. Douxie had enough time to hide his face against the wall before Archie’s dragon fire melted everything on the table, and a few other tools besides. Douxie felt the snap of the connection to the gem breaking, and a slight bit of warmth as his stolen magic returned. He frowned, it was more than he expected, but still not very much. Modern painkillers sucked. Or awesome, depending on the circumstances.

Toby walked up to him as Archie flambéed the far side of the room. “I have your key, sir wizard.” He bowed dramatically and held out his mace. Douxie smiled, and pulled himself as far as he could from the wall. Then promptly fell on his ass as Toby’s mace made short work of the chains.

The shorter man offered him a hand, and Douxie took it. Toby was amazingly strong, Douxie had witnessed the boy being teased for his weight, but little did they know the brute strength that laid under the fat. Douxe staggered a bit, and placed a hand on Toby’s sturdy shoulder to steady himself. They looked up as the hallway glowed with angry pink light. The room shook, and more bits of rocks and dust fell.

“We should leave!” Archie called out. Douxie and Toby nodded, coughing.

The room was clean compared to what was left of the hallway. Zoe stood at the far end, her hair askew and crackling with magic. The air around her was electrified, pink sparks flickering all over. Toby let out a low whistle, leaning over to Douxie. “Remind me not to piss her off.” Douxie nodded.

The way out was obvious, follow the path of destruction to the surface. Archie flew behind them, Douxie was not sure what he blew fire at. He didn’t worry for Zoe; she was fine. The facility and anyone in it, not so much. Boney trotted by him without a backwards glance.

Douxie looked up at a crack in the ceiling. It was widening. He had to make a shield. But his magic fizzled, blue sparks coming out of his hands and not much else. They had to move faster; no shield he could raise would be worth anything.

Zoe ran next to them, gathering up Douxie’s chains, pulling him after her. Without a word, she ran faster down the crumbling tunnel, Toby and Archie at their heels. Toby occasionally dashed ahead and smashed large rocks into smaller rocks and dust. How long was this thing?

They burst out of the side of a hill, a cloud of dust on their heels. Boney leaned against a tree, a hand on one knee. He tossed a ring of keys at Douxie’s feet. “Not worth it,” he growled. “I told him this wasn’t worth it!” He pushed off of the tree and stomped into the shadows. Zoe went to follow, but Douxie stopped her with an outstretched hand. “Where is the other one?” He coughed a few times to clear the dust from his mouth. Toby took the outstretched arm, and started trying different keys. Soon, the metal cuff fell off and Toby moved to the other one.

Zoe glared at the trees, daring Boney to reappear. “If it’s lucky, it’s gravel.” Her shoulders heaved. Douxie placed a hand on her shoulder wincing at the raw red ring around his wrist.

He squeezed her shoulder.

Without warning, she spun and held onto his hoodie with both hands, her knuckles were white, her hands shaking. He wrapped his arms around her, Archie flying around them, bits of fire dripping from his mouth. Toby stood facing the forest, his mace glowing. Steve stomped around the clearing, threatening any shadow with his sword.

“Let’s go home,” Douxie pulled away from Zoe. She looked up at him, but did not relinquish her grip. “My house,” she growled softly. “The wards aren’t done on yours yet.”

Douxie nodded. He was not going to argue with the woman not after…that. The clearing outside of the hill was covered in dust.

**

Zoe’s apartment was small, typical of a young woman living alone. But Douxie could feel the hum of her magic. It filled every corner, giving the place a soft, warm pink glow. She directed him to the small dining room, and sat him in a chair. Toby stood in the doorway.

Zoe sighed, “Get in here, Toby.”

“You…you sure?” The boy gulped.

She rolled her eyes. Douxie had to hide a grin. “Come inside, and call AAARRRGGHH. I don’t think it would be wise for you to walk home alone just yet.”

He nodded, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. Archie prowled around the apartment. The salve that Zoe applied to Douxie’s wrists was cool, and it eased the burning of his chafed wrists greatly. Zoe sighed, sinking into the seat next to him. Toby was in the living room, chattering on his cell phone with Claire. Zoe placed her head in her hand, watching as a shadow portal opened behind Douxie.

“I thought I was supposed to get you all out!” Claire stood in front of them, hands on her hips. AAARRRGGHH was behind her, and waved one meaty paw.

“Not my fault!” Douxie held up his hands.

Zoe rolled her eyes, then sighed deeply, leaning back in her chair. “He’s right for once,” she held up one finger, “Do not get used to it, Casperan.”

Douxie smiled and nodded.

“Now,” Zoe looked around. Claire walked through the portal and it faded from view with a soft whoosh. Toby stood, his mace hidden away, nervously fidgeting. Archie curled up on the floor next to Douxie, still in his larger dragon form. “Tell me what happened.”

There was a knock on the door, Zoe stopped Toby from answering it with a raised hand. “It’s Steve, let him in.”

Steve sauntered in, three large pizza boxes in his hands. “Hello, fellow Creep Slayerz!”

Claire rolled her eyes, taking the boxes from him and setting them on the kitchen counter. Toby hopped in place, “The Za Lord has arrived!”

Steve bowed deeply. “I must keep my loyal subject happy, now don’t I?”

Zoe and Claire had to have been working together for a while; their eye rolls where synchronized. Zoe motioned to Douxie, his mouth starting to water from the scent of pizza, so much better than Brute’s Death Breath. Oh to be rid of that memory! “Now,” Zoe’s voice was almost as demanding as Dr Lake’s, “Tell us everything.”

**

Boney sat in the shadows at the edge of the clearing. It had been fond of that cave. The dust fell from between its fingers, wafting away on the gentle night breeze. It was not easy making another just like it. With Morgana at rest, the Gumm Gumm army exiled, the Arcane Order at peace, and the aliens no longer trying to invade, the world was quiet. There was no profit in a quiet world.

The humans, though. Pfah. Too easy. A few misplaced words, bribed officials. Playing with them had ceased to be fun centuries ago. Perhaps…perhaps it was time to bring back a few old friends? The world had become more accepting of magic, after all.