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Something was not right when Emma woke up.
Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that the morning light streaming in through the window was in the wrong place. Maybe it was the fact that the bed was a little too big. It might've been the way the bed felt underneath her when she turned, or the blankets that were a bit lighter than she was used to. It was mostly the fact that this wasn't even her room; it was her mother's, which made the morning feel wrong.
When her memories of the previous night returned, however, it was the lack of Jack in the room that unsettled Emma most.
Just like that, Emma snapped awake, the memories of Jack's unconscious whimpering and the strange crackling sound that seemed so loud in wake of her nightmare pulling her from the warm embrace of her mother's bed and tearing down the hall in a way that was more similar to Jack's brand of recklessness.
She found Mrs. Overland at the door to the room Emma shared with Jack. Mrs. Overland had, for whatever reason, decided to sit by the door in the middle of the hallway. There were bags under her eyes, and Emma had no doubt that she had been there all night, worrying over Jack.
Emma sat down on the other side of the door, opting not to go inside the room yet (Just in case he wasn't there, just in case he was worse, just in case- just in case!), and said, "Is Jack okay?"
Emma wasn't sure what she would do if Jack was gone. Jack played with her, teased and tricked her, and, most importantly, protected her. If he died- Emma thought she might become a sort of ghost, tied to the world only by the will of others, longing to be up, up, up with her brother, an empty shell who wasn't really living if something like that happened.
Mrs. Overland looked sad, and scared, and Emma feared the worst before she was told: "He's still alive, and he will continue to live. But," Mrs. Overland drew in a shuddering breath, "You can't see him."
Emma's joy at hearing he was still here (he would still comfort her, poke her nose, read to her!) deflated a bit upon hearing that. "Why not?" she demanded.
"He's sick," Mrs. Overland said, sounding uncertain. "I'm not sure what it is, and it might be contagious. I'd rather keep contact to a minimum until he's better, just to be sure."
Emma understood, even though she wasn't happy with the arrangement. A thought struck her. "How will he get food then, and medicine too, if no one can go in to see him?"
"I'll slip it in at intervals, and he'll be able to get it."
"What if he can't stand up to get it?" said Emma, growing frustrated with the lack of loopholes that would allow her to see Jack. How did he always sneak his way through deals like this?
Mrs. Overland hesitated for a second, and Emma felt a spark of hope that she might be able to go and talk to Jack after all. "I'll set them really close; he won't have to get up."
Emma nearly growled. It wasn't fair! Whatever it was that had given Jack his ability to slip through bargains had not been kind to Emma in that regard, and she was suddenly irrationally angry with Jack for hogging all of the skill for himself, in the way that only children can be. She stomped towards the kitchen, resolving to find a new approach.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Overland was breathing a sigh of relief; now that she'd managed to dodge Emma's questions she could dodge anything. She stood and followed her daughter to the kitchen, deciding to make pancakes to distract her from any devious plans to try and go see Jack (Why on earth did Emma see Jack as a role model? Now she was trying to imitate his mischievous ways). As she mixed pancake batter (and kept Emma in her sight), she remembered something rather important.
"Emma," she said, catching the young girl (who must have been deep in thought) unawares. "After breakfast, could you go to the Inn and tell Mr. Herke that Jack has fallen ill?"
Emma grumbled and groaned, but eventually consented. That taken care of, Mrs. Overland focused the majority of her attention on the hot skillet, and the batter she was skillfully pouring on it. Once Emma had eaten and left (but not without a muttered "You won't distract me!" that Emma seemed to think her mother wouldn't hear), Mrs. Overland let out a breath and walked down the hall to where her adopted son was residing, currently hiding himself from the world.
Emma trudged through the snow, grumbling about being sent out and the absence of Jack that morning. She had to be careful, because even though she knew the way to the village (it was right there, how could she not know?), there were ditches that would bury her in snow if she strayed off the path. It was a lot harder to do that particular morning, as it had snowed a lot the night before and Jack had gotten sick before he could shovel the path clear.
After having only one close call with a pile of snow she reached the Inn. She immediately took her cloak off, not wanting to track snow all over the place, and used the wall to knock snow off her boots. Luckily for her, Mr. Herke was the one up front at the counter right now. She marched right up to him.
"Emma!" he greeted her, sounding too cheery for that early in the morning (Really, he must have had some of that wonderful and rare chocolate drink to be so... agreeable). "Are you alright? Where's your brother?"
"I'm fine Mr. Herke." She said politely. "But Jack is sick, mom doesn't know what he has, so he won't be here today, and maybe not tomorrow either."
His face fell. "Oh, dear." He sighed. "I'll have to see if Sam will cover his shifts." Mr. Herke seemed to be contemplating something. "Do you need anything? I could send some soup back with you, if it would help."
Emma thought about it, but shook her head. "I'm sure we can manage, thank you though." Walking away, she was preoccupied with waving good-bye and almost didn't notice the small man in front of her. "Sandy!"
The sleepy man waved hello, then showed her a piece of paper. Reading it, she said, "He's sick. Mom thinks he fell ill sometime last night." Emma pouted. "She won't let me in to see him. Says she doesn't know what he has, and that it might be contagious."
Sandy looked thoughtful, then shrugged, smiling apologetically at her. Taking this to mean 'I don't know what it could be, sorry', she replied, "Thanks anyway. Bye Sandy!"
If Emma had been the type of person to be suspicious, or even had she picked up on her mother and brother's wariness of Sandy and his group, she would have noticed the flash of triumph in his eyes at her words.
But she didn't.
Sandy hurried upstairs, glad he had been able to catch Emma as she was leaving the Inn. He genuinely liked her; she was very bright, full of innocence and trust. But at the moment, the words she had said to him were of the most importance.
He burst into room 14, and would have startled Tooth had she not been expecting him to come back, even if she didn't expect him in such a manner. Sandy ignored her surprised questions, and instead, he impatiently tugged her through the door that joined their room to North and Bunny's. Bunny had been awake already; frowning suspiciously at the sky, but North had yet to wake. Sandy sighed in exasperation, and Bunny got a glint in his eyes.
"North," he said, smirking. "The sheila's makin' cookies."
North shot up in bed, apparently wanting to see Tooth (Tooth!) making cookies. When he realised it was a lie, he sighed in defeat. "Was naughty trick, Bunny."
"As if I'd make something with so much sugar." Tooth scoffed. "We just needed you awake. Sandy is really excited."
Sandy beamed, and signs flashed over his head: an odd spark sort of image, a thermometer, and a bread roll.
North figured it out first. "You… have discovered that Jack is sick and that pirozhki worked!" he said jubilantly.
Tooth covered her mouth with her hands, looking alarmed. "We didn't mean to make him sick! North!" she whirled around to face him angrily, dark hair snapping around and almost hitting her face with her quick movement. "What did you put in that food?"
Confronted with an angry Tooth, North backed away. "He is not really sick," he assured her. "At least, if he is, it was not me who made him so. None of us were to eat any of the pirozhki because it would wash away any concealing enchantment, and our work is not done, so we cannot do that yet."
"So why does Sandy say he's sick?" Tooth inquired, not quite convinced.
"'E's probably just trying to hide." Bunny turned to Sandy. "What exactly did you hear?"
Too impatient for his companions to guess at his pictures, Sandy quickly signed, 'His sister said that he had gotten sick overnight, and that their mom said it might be contagious, so she couldn't see him.'
Bunny nodded, appearing satisfied. "See? The bugger's just hiding in his room." He looked puzzled for an instant. "Wonder why his sister wasn't allowed see him?"
North shrugged. "Was probably lie. When we see Jack, we see what he thinks of magic, and discuss other important things, yes?"
Murmurs of agreement sounded in the room, before the four of them dispersed to begin the day.
A/N: I'll admit, this isn't my favorite chapter, and is sort of a filler. There are a few fillers coming up, aka chapters that are mostly exposition needed so i don't just time-skip all the boring parts (they aren't really boring they're just harder to write). Anyways, there were a lot of lovely reviews this time around, so here we go!
Brenne: Well, I know what's happening, buuuut... you'll have to wait and see :) This chapter might help a bit with that.
IReviewThings: Honestly, I almost always want to hug Emma. She's just so sweet!
KorrieChan: Thank you so much!
The purple hippocampus: I dropped a few hints, but your reaction means it wasn't too terribly obvious.
bluefrosty27: You, on the other hand, figured it out in chapter four! (What the heck, how did you do that, I had only just decided that.) I'm not going to tell you much, but I will reveal that I'm not quite going down the 'spirit' route ;)
Serami Nefera: Surprisingly, I think this chapter answers almost all of those questions!
Thanks for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! They make me feel that this story is worth some people's time, and are good motivation to work!
Until next time!