Simon rubbed slow circles on his aching stomach while holding a damp cloth over his eyes. A mug of cooling chamomile tea sat on his bedside table, a book of herbal home remedies open beside it.
Nothing he’d tried seemed to help, and Simon considered making a trip to the clinic in town to see if he had the flu or something. His magic had never made him feel bad before, but maybe something was wrong there. He hadn’t been feeling quite right since the demon had attacked him.
He couldn’t remember ever feeling this unwell. His grandmother used to tease him that he had inherited his grandfather’s healthy constitution. Every fall he battled hay fever, and he took St. John’s Wort daily to help his stress levels, but other than that, he didn’t get sick. Headaches, stomachaches, general weakness, and being tired weren’t exactly life-threatening symptoms, but the fact that none of his treatments had helped for nearly a week concerned Simon.
It was times like these when Simon wished he had a man in his life. It would be nice to have someone to make him a fresh pot of tea and to run the damp cloth over his eyes through some water to cool it down. Heck, just someone to snuggle up next to him and rub his hair would be nice.
With a groan, Simon pushed his patchwork quilt aside and struggled his way out of bed. He snagged his too-cool tea from the nightstand and went into the kitchen for a new mug.
He wondered if he should call Master Thomas and ask for help. Simon acknowledged he’d been pushing himself very hard magically over the past few days, determined to prove his ability to become a full mage. From sunup to sundown, he worked on his magic. He kept himself centered and accomplished most of the tasks Master Thomas had left for him after their disastrous visit earlier in the week.
Waiting for the kettle to boil seemed to take an eternity. He was hungry but couldn’t really convince himself to eat. The thought of even a saltine cracker made his stomach roll. He nibbled on one anyway, hoping it would help a little.
The kettle whistled and Simon poured the hot water over a diffuser of his herbal tea mixture. While it steeped, he wondered if Master Thomas had heard back from the Conclave of Mages. His actions would have been reported by now, but since he’d never been in any kind of trouble before, magical or otherwise, he wasn’t sure exactly what the process was.
With a quiet sigh, he dumped the used tea leaves into the trash and went back to bed. He sipped his tea and read through his book, thankful when the chamomile started doing its job, relaxing his tense belly and easing some of the nausea. Maybe all he needed was a good night’s sleep.
Sometime later, Simon sat up quickly in bed and looked around the room. Nothing seemed out of place, and he didn’t hear any noises. He blinked away the remnants of sleep and focused on his surroundings. Something was wrong. He could feel it.
His body ached when he stood up and pulled on his robe. His thin flannel pajama pants and T-shirt didn’t protect him from the chill in the night air. The cold wood floors against his bare feet made Simon wish for a pair of warm slippers. He made a quick pass through the cabin but didn’t find anything unusual.
It must have been a dream. He paused at the thermostat and considered turning the heat on but resisted the urge. It would warmup later, and he would regret the wasted energy. Simon went back to his bedroom, the need for sleep pulling desperately at his tired body. Before he could settle back beneath the covers, he felt a slight pull against his magic. It made his head ache even more, and he pressed a hand to his forehead to combat the pain.
He opened his magic just a little, the throb in his head more intense at that small use. Simon could sense someone hovering at the edge of his awareness. All he could feel was fear and pain. His thoughts immediately turned to the cubs. He whisperedHelloin his mind and jerked in surprise when a weak and quiet answer came through.
Simon? Is that you?
It took a moment for Simon to recognize the voice as Garon’s.Garon? It’s me, Simon. What’s wrong?
I don’t feel very good, and I can’t wake up, and my dad can’t hear me. Can you help me?
I have your dad’s cell phone number. Let me call him, okay?
Okay. Simon, will you stay with me?
No problem, big guy. Just let me grab my phone.
Simon stumbled into his office and unplugged his phone from its charger. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Gray’s listing and hit Send. As the phone rang, he sent comforting thoughts through to Garon.
Gray’s voice was muffled and low when he answered. “Hello.”
“Gray, it’s Simon.”
“Simon? It’s two in the morning.”
“I know. Sorry to wake you, but I need for you to go check on Garon.”
Simon heard the rustle of quickly moved bed covers. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. He called to me mentally and is scared.”
Simon could hear Gray’s footsteps and then a door opening. “Garon?” There wasn’t a response. “Garon. Wake up, son.” Still no response. “Simon, he’s not waking up. What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure. Let me see if I can talk to him again. Hold on.”Simon focused his mind back on Garon.Garon? Your dad is there with you. Can you tell me what you are feeling?
Garon’s voice was very weak when he answered.I don’t know. Just bad. And I can’t wake up. Simon, can you come over?
With only the slightest pause, Simon answered,I’m on my way.
