Ritual in the Woods

Morning couldn’t come soon enough for Reagan. He awoke to the first rays of dawn and all but leapt out of bed. His heart beat faster than the wings of a hummingbird, and he couldn’t feel his hands. The entire room buzzed with a nervous excitement.

The day has finally come, he thought, and faced Liam with that same excitement. “Are you ready?” he asked, certain of the answer he would receive.

Liam, however, was perched on the edge of the bed with a frown pulling his features together. He hesitated before finally saying, “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Before Reagan could open his mouth to protest, he added, “The book said it would consume a lot of magic, possibly more than a mage possesses. Normal spells weaken you enough as it is…”

“That’s because I do them back to back,” Reagan said, dismissing Liam’s concerns. “And I’m using them in combat, so that’s draining too. We’ll secure the area ahead of time, and I’ll rest immediately after. You’ve practiced combat as much as I have, so you can protect me for a bit while I sleep.”

Liam searched Reagan’s face for any signs of deception, and although he still didn’t look convinced, he nodded and stood. “If things start to go awry, you have to promise me you’ll stop. None of this is worth anything to me if it means losing you in the process.” Worry pulled the corners of his lips into a frown.

Reagan nodded enthusiastically. “It’ll be fine,” he said and turned toward the door. Before exiting their room at the inn, he said, “In a few days time, you and I will be back home, and your parents will finally be able to see you again.”

The preparations for the spell were easy. Reagan walked into the apothecary with his head held high, grinning at the clerk behind the counter.

It was a much larger store than the apothecary in Louthe, with floor to ceiling shelves containing remedies for curing everything from a stomachache to broken bones to blood disorders. In the back corner were the herb stores, and there Reagan found dried plants that were familiar to him as well as some that weren’t.

From two drawers on the lowest row, he measured five grams of ground rosemary and yew. Henbane, on the other hand, was harder to find, and it was only thanks to Liam that he located it in the top right corner. He pulled a ladder over to reach it, drawing the attention of the clerk.

“It’s unusual for anyone other than physicians to reach for the top row,” she said, eyeing the herbs Reagan had chosen.

“I was given henbane once for insomnia, and it worked wonders then,” Reagan said, hoping his voice didn’t give away the lie. He’d seen the herb mentioned for other spells, and he couldn’t risk such an association being made.

The clerk’s frown cleared, and she smiled. “I’d recommend valerian root. It’s much gentler than henbane.” She walked out from behind the counter and retrieved a vial, which she filled with ground valerian root and added to Reagan’s pile. “Try this first, free of charge, and you’ll find you have no need for the henbane.”

“Th-Thank you,” Reagan said around the lump in his throat. “That’s very kind of you.” He turned away to hide his guilt over lying to the clerk and walked out of the apothecary with a heaviness in his steps.

At the general store, Reagan bought twice the amount of food he’d purchased in Louthe. “You’ve always had a bigger appetite than me,” he said to Liam as they left the store. “I doubt that will have changed.” He accounted for the extra journey around Louthe, too, having no intention to revisit that town.

The words brought Reagan joy as he said them, and he carried that buoyant feeling with him through Baktry.

As he was approaching the town’s entrance, he heard a familiar voice. “Alois!” called Elisa, running up from a small brick building. “Are you leaving town already?” she asked, looking from him to Liam. Disappointed danced on her scrunched brows.

“We got what we needed here,” Reagan said. He forced his body to stay calm and ignore the adrenaline coursing through his veins. In a hurry to escape the conversation, he said, “I hope you live a good life here, Elisa,” and turned away.

“Wait,” she said, grabbing Reagan’s arm. “If you’re ever in town again, I’m staying at the boarding house over there.” She pointed to the building she’d just come out of. “I really appreciate all you’ve done for me, so please, come visit sometime, and I can cook you a proper meal as repayment.”

Reagan nodded and bid her farewell, allowing for no further delays as he and Liam crossed the barrier and left Baktry behind.

It took a few hours to find a suitable clearing, and Liam checked for monsters in the surroundings while Reagan prepared the spell.

He mixed equal parts henbane, yew, and rosemary together with three vials of alcohol to form a paste. The smell of it stung his nose and made him gag, so he pulled a handkerchief out from his satchel and held it to his mouth as he smeared the concoction onto a linen sheet he’d bought at the general store. With his index finger, he dipped into the mixture and drew a crude circle on the cloth, then poured the rest into the center, where Liam would stand.

Anticipation bubbled in Reagan’s stomach as he waited for Liam to return. He tried to sit still, to focus on lowering his heart rate, but no amount of concentration or deep breaths helped. All he could think of was seeing Liam alive again, seeing him breathe again.

And finally dispelling that awful memory of Liam lying motionless on the rug of his old playroom.

He looked around him, searching for any signs of the ghost, and thought about how wonderful it would be for Liam to finally experience the forest for himself -- to feel the crunch of the leaves beneath his feet, to smell the damp, earthy aroma of dirt and the ever present threat of rain, to taste the humidity in the air and the saltiness of the cured meat Reagan had selected at the general store. He thought of all the ways he would make it up to Liam for the ten years he’d missed out on.

Liam returned to the clearing just as Reagan was about to chew off his fingernails. Reagan stood up, facing his childhood friend with an eager, excited grin. “Are you ready?” he asked.

Again, hesitation crossed Liam’s face. He looked down at the sheet Reagan had spread out in the center of the clearing and said, “Are you sure you remember the spell? We didn’t have much time to look at it yesterday, and if you get a single word wrong…”

“You know I have a perfect memory for incantations,” Reagan said impatiently. “I’ve remembered all the ones I ever heard, and I’ve never messed one up.”

“Except the scrying spell.”

“That’s different. I don’t remember Dietfried’s face, so I can’t pull him up. It has nothing to do with the spell, since I conjured Helen without issue.”

Liam looked like he wanted to say more, and he opened his mouth, but nothing else came out. Finally, under Reagan’s restless gaze, he nodded and moved toward the circle. “I just have to stand in the middle, right?”

“Make sure you’re touching the sheet,” Reagan said, and he lay on his stomach on the ground to make sure Liam’s foot was resting atop the stain in the center. “Perfect.”

He sat cross-legged, facing Liam, and took a deep breath. It’s finally time, he thought, then cleared his mind.

He held his hands out, touching the edge of the circle he’d drawn, and concentrated on feeling the warmth of his magic gathering in his fingertips. The wet linen felt cool, even a little prickly.

He took a deep breath and recited the incantation perfectly, word for word as he’d read it, never missing a syllable.

And even so, something went horribly wrong.

Reagan felt it first in his hands. They ached, then burned. Too hot. The invisible fire scorched from his fingers up his arms and across his torso, where it turned into a searing pain. He opened his mouth but couldn’t scream. Couldn’t breathe.

Something rushed up his throat, obstructing his airway, and he coughed, gagging. Blood spurted from his lips, splattering across the sheet. It spilled out of his nose, his mouth. He couldn’t breathe around it, couldn’t speak through it. His vision went blurry, then white, then black. Distantly, he felt his body falling, but he never hit the ground.

He just kept falling.

And falling.

Into nowhere.

Somewhere, deep in the nothing, a single thought broke through: At least I’ll be with Liam.