Just to cover bases I cajoled and guilted my mom into donating another couple of drops of blood so we could rule out a weak medium as the reason for spell failure. The second drop of blood was for another blood symmetry spell, this time cast by Alice. Both spells got the same results (or lack thereof).

“What are the odds that two brothers, in two parts of the country, get involved with real magic?” I asked Alice as I pulled a pack of cigarettes from my pocket and lit one with a thought. I took a long drag and leaned back to blow the smoke into the air. We were killing time waiting for one of Alice’s brothers to get back to us. Mama Martinez (what I’d begin to call Maria in my head) sent for an item that she claimed could help me track down my brother, but it was in a safety deposit box at a private bank downtown. I had wanted to accompany him to get the item, but the bank catered to practitioners and had rather severe security that involved divination and if they sensed my approach, could add hours to the chore. So I was cooling my heels.

We were in Alice’s backyard. I felt awkward about my family drama kinda clothes-lining the mood of the party, so Alice suggested we move someplace away from the prying eyes and minds of her family. Which was three houses down.

Alice’s backyard, unlike her mother’s, was mostly concrete. There was a propane grill covered in grime and cobwebs and a drained in-ground pool that looked like it hadn’t been used since the last resident. We were sitting on a couple of patio chairs with a picnic table in front of us. From the little I saw inside the house, most of the furniture was a couple of decades old and probably a holdover from whoever had lived here previously. I get the feeling Alice doesn’t spend a lot of time here.

I could feel Alice’s frown in my periphery as she watched me smoke. “Since when do you smoke?”

Alice is one of the few people I trusted, so I decided to be blunt. “Since I discovered it stops my hands from shaking and helps with my panic attacks.”

“Oh, Jesus, Colm,” she said. “I had no idea it was that bad.”

I shrugged. “I kind of wanted it that way,” I said, taking another drag. “I’m not used to… having…” I made a frustrated noise.

“People to go to?” Alice finished.

I pointed my free hand at her with a finger gun, and mimicked it going “off.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked after a pregnant break in conversation.

I sighed. “No,” I said. “But I’m gonna. As much as I hate reliving those days… those conversations we had on the ship and—subsequent badgering by you and Ida have helped a lot. Just—just don’t prompt me.”

Alice nodded, her big eyes full of concern.

I took another long drag, letting the smoke spill from my mouth and nose as I talked. “The… biggest, problem—I guess, is that I feel… I feel I should be handling this better? And the fact that I don’t makes it worse?

“I spent nearly eight years in a manic dash to prepare for when the boogeyman came after me, and when he did… I won? Kind of? I definitely survived. And some days I think of that and feel like things are so much better than they ever have been before. I have friends. I have power. Resources. I’m in such a better place both physically and logically it’s rather staggering.”

I took another drag, the ember of the cigarette eating into the filter. I flicked it in the direction of the trash can by the grill as I pulled out another with my other hand. This one I lit without taking a drag from.

“And then other days, it all comes crashing at me like I’m at the base of the Hoover Dam and they opened the floodgates. Sometimes I can function—I take a long shower, I put my phone on mute, I re-watch Labyrinth, I eat. Sometimes I just… lose time.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“I find myself in the corner of my house with my gun in my hand, not remembering grabbing it. I don’t think it’s there for me,” I quickly added, feeling Alice tense next to me. “But I’m—I think understandably—worried what would happen if someone happened to show up at my house during that time. It’s—It’s terrifying.”

I was silent for a long time. Long enough for the lighting to change as full night descended, and for the cigarette between my lips to become ash and go out. I woodenly took the butt and flicked it toward the trash can.

“Other times I’m all too aware of what’s happening. I have trouble breathing, it feels like my heart is going to burst. I’ve broken so much shit in my house from just trying to get something to eat to calm my nerves. I’ll try to grab the orange juice and my shaking fucking hands will just burst the carton.”

I sighed.

“I was actually getting better,” I said, finally glancing in Alice’s direction. “I was feeling confident enough that I finally stopped making excuses as to why I couldn’t come down here… and now my little brother is missing and in the hands of people from our side of the street. So many terrible scenarios are clashing in my mind I—“

I made a visible effort to stop and gripped the edge of the table hard enough to make the fiberglass creak and pop from the pressure.

I took another deep breath and held it for three seconds before letting it go. “I’d appreciate any lectures on smoking be held until my brother is found and safe,” I said as I slowly relaxed my grip on the table.

“Sure,” Alice said quietly.

“Thanks,” I said, hoping she got that I wasn’t just talking about laying off the cigarettes. From her answering smile, I think she did.

“So, speaking of Ida…” Alice began.

I gave her my full attention, an eyebrow arched in inquiry.

“It was supposed to be a surprise, but her plane is arriving tomorrow morning,” she said.

I was elated. Ida and I had been keeping in touch since our misadventure in the Pacific. While Alice and I had become close friends, I had been secretly hoping Ida and I may be something more. I think we had been flirting over our semi-weekly Facetime calls, but I didn’t want to read too much into it in case she was just being friendly. There was a lot that can be miscommunicated over the phone… But I was hopeful. I mean, she HAD kissed me on the island. It had been on the cheek, though. So… Fuck, I wish I could read minds like Alice.

“That’s fucking awesome,” I said, getting excited. But then I remembered the situation with my brother, and my shoulders slumped a little bit.

“Yeah, the situation isn’t what we wanted it to be,” Alice said. “But hey, think of it this way: We have an Interpol investigator coming in.”

A rare bloom of optimism came over me. “Yeah,” I said, a fragile smile forming on my lips. Alice reached over and squeezed my hand.

She became distracted, looking towards the house. “Tony says your mom is looking for you,” she said.

I nodded and stood. “Yeah I probably left her alone longer than I should have,” I said in a low voice.

“Colm?” Alice asked, bringing me up short. I turned and regarded her.

“I understand why you hate your dad,” she began slowly. “I mean, it’s obvious he’s a piece of shit. But I’m getting, I don’t know, some—not the same feeling, but definite resentment?” She held up her hands in a “stop” motion. “If I’m overstepping, forget I said anything.”

I sighed. “It’s… complicated. Well, no it isn’t. It’s just—I love my mom,” I finally said. It came out a bit flat, though. “I love her,” I said more sincerely. “But, at the same time, I don’t like her. She had the means to get us away from that monster. Growing up, the older I got, the more it became clear that she stayed with him not because she couldn’t leave, but because she wouldn’t. These days, there’s enough information around that I know there are psychological problems in abusive relationships that makes getting away from the abuser difficult…”

I felt my face form into a snarl, without making the accompanying noise. “But any consideration I have for her is lost when I remember she did nothing whenever that piece of shit used Conner and I as an outlet for his aggression. She did the bare minimum to keep us safe when all she had to do was leave and take us with her.”

I took a deep breath and let my anger flow out of me, the process old and familiar by this point. I turned and stalked into the house, doing my best to hide my frustration and anger by the time I got to the living room.

“Liam!” My mom called as I walked in. “We were just wondering where you went. Tony was telling me that his family owns every property on the street. Isn’t that wonderful?”

I pulled on my best fake smile, which was a bit muted from the heavy conversation I just left. “Yeah,” I said. “It seems like a nice way to keep the family together...”