Chapter 33
Masha stirred awake when they heard Luz's alarm go off. They moved to their right, opening their eyes tiredly to observe Luz shift around on her own bed. A muted morning light danced across the room as Luz reached for her phone to quell the insistent alarm.
Luz rose from the twin size bed and stretched her arms apart, a yawn escaping her lips.
"Why does it feel like you set the alarm earlier than usual?" Masha mumbled, heavy with drowsiness. Their eyes blinked open halfway as they tried their best to wake up.
Luz's lips curved upward, a fleeting smile that shone with excitement, just like her eyes, as she turned to gaze at Masha. "Because I did," Luz answered with amusement and pride. "I set it up at 6 am."
Masha let out a tired yawn as they rubbed their tired eyes. "Why?" they asked. "Sister Lilian and the others aren't leaving 'til 10 am. And they aren't going to be waking up anytime soon."
"I have my reasons," Luz answered with a playful glint dancing within her gaze. She then kneeled next to her bed and reached under to retrieve a folder with stacked sheets of paper. Masha's gaze shifted to Twig, who was poking out from beneath the blanket that had kept Masha warm during the past nights.
"Good morning, Twig," Luz said to the palisman warmly before directing her attention to Masha. "I bet she's going to miss sleeping with you."
Masha's fingers sought out Twig's head, gently petting her with affection. "I'm for sure going to miss her," they said. "But I can't do anything about it, you know."
Twig looked up at them before shifting closer to Masha's face, running her head against their cheek.
"I guess, but at least you'll get to see each other again when Sister Lilian comes back with the Titan's blood," Luz said, trying to offer some comforting words to Masha.
"Yeah, that's true," Masha said, trying to look at the bright side.
"Welp, I am off now for my secret mission," Luz declared playfully as she walked over to the door, making Masha blink. "I will see you two later."
Masha reached for their phone when Luz stepped out of the room, sifting through a series of texts messages. Some were from their closest friends, asking them about the vacation that they were supposedly on with their foster parents.
Truth be told, Masha hated lying to their friends, but they couldn't tell them about the situation they were in without putting them in danger or outing Luz and Vee. But, of course, they still felt bad to make their friends believe that their foster parents were finally taking an interest in them.
Speaking of foster parents…
Masha looked at the last message exchanged between them and their foster parents.
Jane: The school notified us of your absence. Why didn't you go to school?
Jane: You better not be ditching and getting yourself in some sort of trouble.
Masha. I caught a bad cold
Jane: I've told you to let us know when you're sick so we can call the school.
Jane: You know how I detest when the school calls us.
Masha: Sorry
And that was it… no other messages from Jane, not even from Tom, their foster dad.
Masha placed the device aside, trying not to let the lack of concern from their foster parents bother them. They thought about going to the barn to check on Philip, but Sister Lilian had informed them that the spell she used on Philip would keep him asleep for a whole day. So, Masha had to wait until evening to have a chance to talk to Philip again.
They wanted to check on Vee, too, but she was most likely asleep as well.
Perched upon Masha's abdomen, Twig emitted a plaintive chirp, her eyes fixed upon them.
"Yeah, I wish you could stay too," Masha murmured, a hand gently cradling Twig's small body. "But like Luz said, we'll see each other again when you come back with Sister Lilian."
In the preceding days, Masha had devoted considerable time to Twig. They talked to her a lot about themselves. While they refrained from discussing their "brother", they openly told them about their foster parents, who were pretty much out of the picture a lot. They did talk about their interests, and explained to them about their school life and the great friendships they had.
Twig also shared some details about her life. She revealed that she had existed for nearly three centuries, originally the partner of a pure-blooded witch living in Europe. But then she was taken away from her partner. When Masha asked about her partner's fate, Twig hesitated, not wanting to talk about it. Twig claimed it was too painful to say. Masha later learned that Twig was passed down through generations within the bloodline of her original partner before ending up with Sister Lilian.
Masha thought it was so cool how Twig was just a century younger than Philip. They wondered how living so long would feel like.
They sat up and lifted Twig to eye level. "Not gonna lie, I guess it's a good thing Luz woke us up this early," they said with a casual smile. "It gives us more time to hang out before you leave."
Twig's gaze lingered thoughtfully, then she emanated a cheery chirp. A silent agreement.
"Do you want to help me decide what movie Philip should watch with us?" The night before, the majority voted that Philip should come over to the house for a couple of hours during the evenings. Masha figured maybe they should have Philip try to watch a movie with the group so he could experience cinema for the first time. Though they wondered how they would have Philip watch the movie since the television in the living room was tiny and so old it wouldn't connect to any of their phones. But it was alright, they would find a way around the issue.
"I got some ideas, but I'm super indecisive since I don't want to overwhelm him," Masha said as they reached out for their phone again. Twig nimbly sprang onto Masha's right shoulder before gazing down at the glow of Masha's phone screen, absorbing the array of movie options they had to share with her - films that might captivate Philip's interest.
Around 8 o'clock, Masha ascended the stairs, spotting Father Francis folding the linens he used while sleeping on the couch. Masha felt bad that Father Francis had been on the couch for the past few days, but he did choose to do so since the rest of the beds were taken.
In the basement, Masha and Luz occupied twin beds, while the neighboring room that Hunter and Gus slept in had their own beds. Camila and Vee nestled upstairs in one room, and Willow along with Amity in another. Meanwhile, the three nuns occupied yet another bedroom, with Sister Luna and Sister Lilian sharing one of the full-size beds. The house they were staying in was larger than Luz's. According to Sister Lilian, the building accommodated occasional retreats organized by Father Derick. Masha felt they were lucky to have a house that provided ample beds and amenities for their possible extended stay until Sister Lilian's return. In addition, Sister Lilian also provided them with a credit card to attend to their essential needs.
Masha noticed Luz was absorbed in one of the couches, engrossed in her laptop and notepad, jotting some things down. They wondered what exactly Luz was doing and if it had anything to do with her "mission".
"Good morning, Masha," Father Francis greeted with a warm smile.
"Good morning, Father Francis," Masha reciprocated, and Twig chimed in with a cheerful chirp. "Twig says good morning, too."
"Good morning to you, too, Twig," Father Francis chuckled, bending down to fondly stroke Twig's head. "Hopefully, you two slept well."
"I think we should all be hoping that for you instead, since you got stuck with the couch," Masha pointed out.
"Nah, don't worry about me," Father Francis said. "It's actually comfier than it looks."
"Sure it is," Masha teased before going into the kitchen to find Sister Margaret and Sister Luna cooking together, just as they had been the past few days.
"What are you guys cooking this time?" Masha asked curiously as they settled on a chair by a tiny, round table.
"Bacon cheddar biscuits and eggs with Swiss chard and green olives," Sister Luna responded, a hint of pride in her voice. "They're two of my favorite recipes that I came across a while ago online. And I thought why not make them both before I leave."
"Swiss chard and green olives," Masha hummed. "Sounds super fancy." They fell silent as they watched Sister Margaret retrieve the biscuits from the oven. Masha had noticed how peaceful Sister Margaret looked whenever she was cooking. "Sister Margaret, have you ever thought about opening a restaurant?" they asked curiously. "Actually, I can see you two having one together. You're both great cooks."
"A restaurant is too much to handle," Sister Margaret said calmly before resuming her preparation to make some fresh squeezed orange juice.
"It doesn't have to be a big restaurant. Could be a small diner. I don't know, I just always thought having one would be cool. And who knows? Maybe owning a diner would be your newfound calling," they teased. "And I think I already have the perfect name for it, too. The 'Ex Nuns'."
"Sister Margaret has yet to formally depart from the church," Sister Luna grumbled. "And I would never leave the church myself."
Masha said nothing after that, looking at Sister Margaret with amusement as the nun was deep in thought.
Time seemed to move quickly as Masha later found themselves outside the front door with Twig perched atop their head while Father Francis was engaged in a conversation with Sister Margaret. Everyone else, except Hunter and Vee, stood outside with Sister Luna and Sister Lilian as they exchanged their farewells.
"Thank you so much for everything," Camila said to Sister Lilian.
"No need to thank me," Sister Lilian replied. "I couldn't just stand there and do nothing. Please do be careful, take care of yourselves, and if anything comes up, please let Father Derick know or call or text me at any time. Don't ever hesitate to reach out, alright?"
"Especially be careful with you know who…" Sister Luna whispered to Camila, her eyes shifting towards the barn near the home.
Sister Lilian sighed at Sister Lunas's ongoing hostility towards Philip but refrained from commenting.
Camilla offered a small smile to Sister Luna. "I think we'll be okay," she said.
"And I promise I will be back with the demon's blood—I mean, Titan's blood," Sister Lilian assured the rest of the group as Father Francis and Sister Margaret joined them.
"Well, I do hope you all stay safe," Father Francis said with a smile. "And I will, of course, pray every night that everything goes well for all of us."
"Of course. Thank you, Father Francis," Camila said, appreciating his kindness.
"Well, I'll see you when you come back, Twig." Masha scooped Twig up and rubbed their nose against her beak before offering her to Sister Lilian. However, before Sister Lilian could take her, Twig shot froward and landed on Masha's head.
The bird then turned to Sister Lilian with a silent stare, leaving Masha blinking with confusion, and Sister Lilian gazing at them quietly.
Everyone watched the scene, and after a long moment Sister Lilian let out a chuckle.
"I'm going to be honest. I saw this coming the moment you turned back to your original form after all these years," Sister Lilian said to Twig. "Though, I didn't think it was going to happen any time soon. But I guess change is always bound to happen, especially in the least expected of times."
Masha regarded her with a befuddled expression. Then Sister Lilian's hands settled gently on their shoulders.
"I trust both of you to care for each other profoundly and will keep each other safe no matter what," she said.
"Wait, hold on," Masha interjected, seeing where this was going. "I can't take Twig from you. She's your partner."
"My mother once told me a palisman chooses their partners," Sister Lilian said. "Twig never chose me, nor anyone else, after they were taken from their original partner. We were all just her guardians until she came across someone who could connect with her again. And I guess, after all these years of waiting, she's finally found someone."
For a moment, Masha thought maybe they had fallen back to sleep after Luz had left the room. They stared at Sister Lilian, unsure of what to say and completely surprised by the turn of events. Everyone else around them mirrored their astonishment. Then Masha looked down at the ground as they couldn't help but feel ashamed. There was a part of them that wanted Twig to stay behind with them, but they never meant to steal Twig from Sister Lilian.
Sister Lilian gently squeezed Masha's shoulders, giving them a warm smile. "Please, Masha, don't feel guilty. Twig needs you just as you need her." Masha met their gaze with confusion before Sister Lilian continued. "As I mentioned before, she's been waiting for you all this time."
Masha felt some sort of warmth in their chest at Sister Lilian's words.
Someone had been waiting for them all these years… The thought that someone had chosen them, after so long, made them feel special. When was the last time someone had made them feel like they were worthy of being picked over others?
"I'm not going to lie to you, this… is one of the most unexpected but coolest things that has happened to me," Masha admitted.
Sister Lilian released Masha with a chuckle. "I bet you feel like you're in some sort of fantasy book," she said, teasingly.
Masha grinned. "Oh, definitely. But, for reals, are you sure about this?" they asked, still not feeling what was happening to be fair for Sister Lilian.
"Yeah, I'm 100 percent sure," Sister Lilian said with a smile.
Twig then emitted a chirp to Sister Lilian. "Twig says thank you for everything," Masha translated before Twig's chirp resonated once again. "And she says she can't wait to see you again when you come back."
"Of course," Sister Lilian replied before she shifted her focus to the other children. "And I'm expecting you all to teach Masha a thing or two on how to team up with Twig so they can be a powerful witch."
"Absolutely." Willow grinned as she and her friends gathered around Masha. "And we can definitely show you how to fly."
"Trust me, it's not as scary as it looks," Gus assured them with enthusiasm.
Luz shared in Masha's excitement, yet a twinge of wistfulness constricted her chest. While she rejoiced for Masha, she couldn't shake the pang of not having a partner herself, despite the fact that she was the human who had gone to the Boiling Isles. Yes, she technically had a palisman, but they were still in the form of an egg. Luz secretly was growing worried that her palisman didn't want to hatch because of her.
Sister Margaret gave Sister Lilian a calm smile, acknowledging their kind gesture towards Masha and Twig. Sister Lilian responded with a gentle smile of her own, striving to mask her inner melancholy over parting with Twig.
Sister Lilian then turned to Camila. "Just wanted to remind you that Philip will probably wake up later this evening," she said. "And try not to get too bothered with Father Derick. He means well. He's just a grouchy old man."
In due course, Derick pulled up in his car. Sister Lilian, Sister Luna, and Father Francis exchanged their final farewells.
"We'll get that Titan's blood." Father Francis waved at Luz and the group while the two nuns entered the small car. "That's a promise."
After Derick drove off with the three, Camila sighed. Now, she was alone with the kids again, but thankfully, Sister Margaret was there to help them.
Truth be told, having the other adults had made a huge difference. She didn't realize how stressed she was in the past months until she found herself sleeping so much the past few days. She was much more relaxed, and she finally had time to herself. Plys she and her daughters basically lost their home because Elizabeth and her men were after them. The loss of their home, the last place where her husband had lived with them, plus all the countless family pictures, were now gone…
Camila did her best not to let herself completely drown in sorrow, especially in front of the kids.
Camila turned to Sister Margaret, her voice gentle. "Thank you so much for helping us. I really appreciate it so much."
"No need to thank me, Camila, and please, call me Margaret," the former nun said. "I've left the church, after all, so the title no longer fits me."
"If that's true, then can we call you Aunt Margaret?" Luz asked.
Margaret blinked at the suggestion. After a moment to think about it, and while all the teenagers stared at her with some sort of anticipation, an amused smile gradually spread across her face. "From sister to aunt… I suppose I don't see any harm in that."
"Whoa, does that mean I finally have an aunt now?" Gus let out in awe.
"You know, I never had an aunt before, either," Amity spoke up.
"Me neither," Willow added, echoed by Luz.
"Cool, we all have our first aunt ever," Masha remarked.
"Congratulations, Aunt Margaret. You now have a bunch of nieces and nephews," Luz said. "Hopefully you don't come to regret it."
Margaret chuckled. "I have a feeling that it will be one of the best decisions I've made in my life," she admitted. She wasn't going to lie to herself: at that moment, she was starting to see the bright side of Philip having come into the church that night weeks ago.
Philip's eyelids parted, and immediately he felt a searing agony that coursed through his chest. The sensation was akin to an unrelenting blaze scorching his very core, the raw intensity escalating with every breath he took, and his whole body appeared to be consumed by feverish heat.
With trembling hands, he wrestled the blanket off his body, revealing a chest that appeared worse than it was before he was put to sleep. A landscape of brown and black marked his flesh, a dark ooze festering, reminiscent of infection. Philip forced himself to a sitting position with excruciating resistance, his wounded body protesting the movement. Each breath emerged as a rasp. The wound pulsed with pain. Glistening beads of sweat had formed on his forehead.
He couldn't understand why he hadn't healed. Why the wound had grown worse. He hadn't fallen victim to some abnormal blast wielded by one of Elizabeth's men, nor from another attack from one of those dreadful monsters. The wound on his chest was from Hunter's palisman, which should have healed by now.
He continued to breathe in pain, every inhalation a harsh rasp that seemed to echo in the silence of the barn. A distant shuffle reached his ears, the sound of the barn door creaking open. Alarm shot through him, and his attention snapped to the sorry state of his shirt. Swiftly and excruciating, he stripped himself of the garment before shoving it deep into the straw bedding. With a painstaking effort, he laid down on his side, concealing himself beneath the blanket.
Eyes squeezed shut, he grappled to suppress the ragged breathing, yet the agony in his chest proved to be difficult for him to control it.
"I think he's still asleep." Philip heard Camila's voice when the footsteps stopped near his stall.
"Philip, I know you're awake," Margaret said with deadpan. She had heard movement from his direction when they walked into the barn. It seemed silly to her that he was trying to feign sleep. Though, she did notice how wrong his breathing sounded to her, and she wasn't the only one to notice.
Camila's brows furrowed and approached Philip, kneeling beside him. "Philip, what's wrong?" she asked. When she got no response, she placed a hand on his forehead after noticing the sweat. "You're burning up." This seemed strange to her; from the instances she felt his skin, he always felt so cold.
"I'm fine," Philip rebuffed, his tone frosty as he pulled away from her touch. Slowly, his eyes cracked open, though he averted them from the women's gazes.
"Hey, Philip, you won't believe what happened to Masha." The exuberant voice of Gus penetrated his awareness, accompanied by hurried footsteps.
But Philip didn't face them, even as Masha, and Gus barged into his stall.
Both teens blinked in confusion and saw Camila looking rather concerned.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Margaret huffed impatiently, seizing the blanket and wrenching it away from Philip's form.
His eyelids snapped shut instantly, his body recoiling, arms reflexively curling around his torso in a futile attempt to hide the wound.
"Oh dios mio, Philip, what happened?" Camila's shock-laden words filled the air as her gaze landed on the disturbing sight that his chest now presented. She grabbed his wrists and tried forcing them to the side so she could have a better look at the wound. Though, Philip was being rather difficult with her, as she wasn't strong enough to move his limbs aside.
"Philip, I swear, you're worse than a child sometimes," Camila lectured him. "Por favor, let me look at it."
The kids were now worried and ran over to see a bit of the wound on Philip's chest. "I don't understand," Masha said, staring at the wound in shock alongside Gus. "How is he hurt that badly?"
"Yeah, I don't get it either," Gus said before he recalled a recent memory. "But the wound looks like the one that Philip had before. One of Elizabeth's men shot Philip in the chest. But… the wound was gone when we went back for him..."
"Maybe Philip hid it somehow?" Masha suggested before looking down at Philip with concern. "Did you?"
The man continued to avoid everyone's gazes as he struggled to breathe, letting them believe that was how he was currently injured. He pulled his arms away from his chest, giving in to Camila's demand as he saw there was no point in fighting her.
"I don't think Philip can use magic like that," Gus said. "At least, I haven't seen him use any hallucination spells during his time on Earth."
Margaret knelt on the other side of the makeshift bed and gently helped Camila to prompt Philip to sit up. They could all hear his breathing becoming harsher as he moved. Finally, Camila saw the complete mess on his chest and the black ooze that trailed down from it.
"We need to take him back to the house," Camila said firmly to Margaret. In the past, she didn't have to worry about patching him up since he could heal quicker than anyone she had met. But now, there was no sign of him self-generating any time soon.
"I have some supplies that I brought with me that can sanitize this," she said, pausing for a moment as she thought about how to proceed. "I'll go into town and buy anything else we need to mend this."
"Sounds like a plan," Masha said.
"Alright, let's get you moving, Philip," Margaret urged. She tried lending him a hand, but Philip withdrew from her touch, resolutely rising onto his feet. For a moment, he wheezed, his shoulders trembling slightly. He draped the blanket over his shoulders, attempting to shield himself from the gaze of the group, especially the children.
He brushed the sweat off his forehead then turned to Camila. His dark circles were more pronounced, likely due to his sickly state. And now that she noticed how Philip was covering himself with the blanket, she wondered where the shirt she lent him was at. Standing up, she glanced around the area, noticing the shirt was nowhere in sight. She pushed the thought aside to guide him out of the barn and into the house.
Philip hesitated to walk into the house but eventually stepped in. He halted in his tracks upon spotting a girl down the hallway. He had never seen the girl before, yet she looked familiar…
She turned to him in confusion. Her eyes were rather strange to him as they were black with yellow-gold pupils. Her skin tone was lighter than Luz's but slightly darker than Masha's. Green hair with blue tips framed her face, and Philip's attention was caught by what seemed like fin-like ears blending with her hair.
Hold on…
"Vee, mija, could you please get me the first aid kit from the closet?" Camila asked the girl.
"Sure thing," she replied before walking away.
Masha noticed Philip staring at Vee. "After she felt better, she tried transforming into her human disguise, but I guess she didn't have enough magic for a complete transformation," they explained to him. "Vee ended up loving the look, though, so she decided that would be her new human disguise. I have to admit, she does look super cool."
Philip didn't comment.
"What's going on?" Luz asked when she walked out of the kitchen with Willow and Amity. Her brow furrowed as she noticed Philip looking rather feverish, and she winced at the sound of his labored breathing. "What's wrong?"
"Gus says one of Elizabeth's men shot at Philip's chest," Masha informed them as Camila and Margaret escorted Philip upstairs. Vee hurried after them, carrying the first aid kit.
"Yeah, it's not looking good," Gus said, looking worried.
Luz frowned. That didn't make any sense. "But… his chest looked fine back in Gravesfield."
"Maybe he hid it from us somehow?" Willow suggested.
"That's what Masha thinks," Gus said.
"Unless he did heal initially, but it just got bad again," Amity mused. "Hunter said he used to eat the palismen to control his curse. So… what if it also helped him heal? Maybe he needs magic similar to Vee?"
"But that wouldn't make sense," Luz countered. "Philip's body was basically destroyed by the Collector, and he somehow healed without draining any magic from anyone."
"Yeah, and Vee had pointed out before how the magic inside of him had just grown stronger when he was imprisoned weeks ago, as if he was creating his own magic reserves," Gus pointed out.
"Philip's curse is very confusing," Luz sighed.
Masha wanted to correct Luz and tell them all how Philip did not have a curse. That the green stuff in him was what made him who he was now, based on what Elizabeth had said. Philip was now a physical manifestation of magic, but Masha was hesitant to share the revelation because they felt Philip would not like anyone knowing he was no longer human.
So, they stood there by the stairs, listening to their friends' theories of what was happening to Philip and how they could maybe help him.
The women had taken Philip into the bedroom that Margaret was occupying. Camila led him to one of the full-size beds and instructed him to lie down as she and Margaret prepared some things on the small table next to the bed.
"Before I tend to the wound, I need to clean the area around it," Camila informed Philip. She dipped a clean cloth into a bowl containing a mixture of warm water and a gentle cleansing solution that Margaret had prepared. Gently, she began to dab the cloth onto the skin surrounding the burnt area while Margaret placed a cold wet towel on Philip's forehead.
Philip shut his eyes, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm of mostly discomfort. Every touch on his bare skin felt invasive, unsettling him. He focused on his uneven breaths, using them as a form of distraction. A wince crossed his face when Camila began cleaning the wound itself, but she made sure to be as delicate as possible.
"Yeah, sorry, this is going to sting a bit," Camila cautioned in a soft tone.
The introduction of the saline solution to the wound intensified the agony Philip was experiencing. He held back any vocal expression of his pain, his breathing growing harsher. Following Camila's guidance, Margaret retrieved a fresh gauze pad and dampened it with an antiseptic solution. She handed it to Camila, who continued the thorough process of cleaning and sanitizing. The mixture of black and brown ooze reacted immediately to the gauze pad, clinging to it right away. Camila discarded the stained pad and had Margaret hand her a fresh one. No one spoke a word for a while. Once the wound had been properly attended to, the women shifted Philip into a sitting position, covering the chest wound with additional gauze. The visible staining of the infection on the gauze made Camila grow more worried.
"I'm going to need to go into town to buy more gauze and saline solution because I'm going to have to change the dressing later. Honestly, I'm not sure if what I'm doing is helping you, Philp," she admitted. "Your body is nothing to what I'm used to. I wish Sister Lilian was here to heal you."
Philip said nothing while the harsh rhythm of his breathing persisted.
"Do any of the kids know how to use any healing spells?" Margaret asked Camila, who shook her head in response.
"I'll take the kids with me to town," Camila stated as she reached for her bag, making sure she had her wallet and the keys to Father Francis' vehicle. "Could you do me a favor and help Philip with that hair of his?"
"And maybe help him take a bath," Margaret said. She had taken note Philip had a terrible smell and noticed Philip's involuntary tension at her suggestion, but she simply ignored it.
"Yeah, that sounds good," Camila said as she began walking towards the door. "Do you need anything, by the way?"
"Maybe a wide comb to detangle his hair," Margaret said before Camila stepped out of the room. Her gaze then settled on Philip, who continued to sit on the bed, his struggle with breathing mirroring the persistence of his pain. She approached him quietly to stand near him. "Philip, I need you to be candid with me." Her voice adopted a serious tone. "Did you harm yourself?"
Her question caught Philip off guard. The notion of intentionally causing himself harm was far from his mind, especially since he was supposed to be helping the kids.
"No," Philip replied, attempting to match her tone. His blue glowing orbs looked up at her as he frowned.
Margaret scrutinized him as she tried to discern if he was telling her the truth. She decided for now she would believe him. Nevertheless, she intended to discuss the possibility with Camila so they could keep an eye on him for any other sign that might warrant concern.
"Very well, let's go to the bathroom so I can wash that hair of yours," she said. "It's become quite a mess. There's even a piece of a branch caught in it."
Philip's gaze lowered to his lap. "I'll just cut it off."
Margaret frowned. "Don't even think about bringing anything sharp near that hair of yours," she scorned him. "Masha mentioned to me how lovely your hair used to be. Even Amity said she was jealous of it, and she could even tell you took a lot of time growing it out and taking care of it before you started neglecting it. Cutting it off would only make the kids grow more worried about you."
Though Philip felt annoyed, he decided not to argue with her since he didn't want Masha or the others to worry about him any further.
"Now, come along, let's get you ready." She gently grasped his arm – a touch surprisingly more tender than what he was expecting from her – as she assisted him in rising from the bed. Philip gritted his teeth, letting out a shaky breath. "Maybe we should give you a bath first."
Philip did not take a further step forward.
Margaret sighed, recognizing his discomfort. She could tell he wasn't going to let her help him. She released his arm. "Okay, fine, we can find another way around this," she conceded. "But you have to make sure the gauze remains dry, alright?"
Philip gave her a curt nod. Together, they entered the bathroom linked to the bedroom, where he later observed her fill two buckets with warm water, position a few small, dry towels next to the sink, and place some soap adjacent to the towels. Margaret left the bathroom, granting Philip privacy to give himself a sponge bath.
Hunter entered the MPV along with his friends, sitting at the back before Camila drove off down the hill in the direction of the town.
"He's what?" Hunter turned to Gus, puzzled after his friend revealed to him how they found Philip with a wound on his chest, looking as if it was severely infected. Gus suspected it was the same wound that Philip had sustained from the man Hunter had beaten back in the woods.
"But we're not sure how he hid the injury," Gus said. "He can't really use magic like we can, unless it did heal, and it got bad again?"
Hunter was silent for a moment. "Did he say anything about it?"
"No, he didn't really say anything at all," Masha said with a sigh.
"Don't worry guys," Luz chimed in from her spot beside Amity, her expression reassuring. She offered a grin. "Mom will patch him up and he'll be okay soon."
A sudden realization struck Gus, prompting him to slap his forehead. "Wait, hang on," he said. "Philip knows healing spells."
Luz blinked. "He does?"
"Yeah, I saw it in one of his memories," Gus revealed. "And originally, I was thinking he would show one of us how to do it in order to heal Vee."
"Healing spells are complex, though," Amity spoke up. "It would take us a while to learn how to heal even a small cut let alone a wound like the one you described Philip having."
"I thought maybe Philip would, I don't know, teach us in a faster way," Gus said, rubbing the back of his head. The boy did think about the possibility of Philip using one of their palismen as a staff to use the healing spell on himself, but he was pretty sure the palismen would be completely against that idea.
"I mean, it wouldn't hurt to ask him to teach us," Willow suggested, "in case his wound doesn't get better soon."
"I definitely want to learn how to heal," Masha said. Twig poked her head out from beneath Masha's jacket before chirping. "Twig says she likes to heal."
"Again, a healing spell is not an easy spell to learn," Amity sighed, feeling as if her warning was being overlooked.
"Yeah, Amity is right, Masha," Luz said. "Maybe let's allow Amity or the others to give it a shot first. You have tons of other spells to try to learn before jumping into healing."
Masha tried not to get offended and looked down at Twig, who tilted her head to the side. She chirped to Masha, telling them it wasn't so hard.
Masha chuckled, patting her head. "Maybe not for you," they said. "You've been doing it for years."
Gus peered out the window once they were driving through the streets. "This town is kind of like Gravesfield," he commented. The buildings stood close together, some displaying an aged yet refurbished appearance.
"I wonder how old this place is," Luz said.
Camila drove toward a parking lot and found a spot in front of the store. "Are everyone's ears hidden?" Luz asked, prompting the witches to keep their ears hidden with either a beanie or within their hair before they stepped out of the vehicle.
Hunter maintained silence as he trailed behind the group into the store. Truth be told, he was torn between frustration with Belos and genuine concern. Part of him suspected that Belos might not have healed his injuries to manipulate Hunter, perhaps attempting to garner sympathy from his friends, which seemed to have worked as his friends were now talking about finding a way to help Belos with the injury. Then again, Luz and the others had been acting different towards Belos since he saved them…
Another part of him questioned if there was a chance that Belos couldn't mend himself. Hunter recalled how Belos had sustained injuries in the fights against Elizabeth's creatures and henchmen, injuries that hadn't healed immediately when he was in his beast form. Then again, when he and Gus had retrieved Belos from Elizabeth's clutches, the wounds had disappeared.
Suppressing a sigh of frustration, Hunter struggled with his thoughts, especially when the guilt was starting to creep into his head. He told himself not to feel bad for assaulting Belos. After all, the man had hurt him so many times before… Belos was just trying to make him feel guilty by not healing the wound, for some reason.
He tried to distract himself by engaging Gus in an entirely unrelated conversation. He blinked with confusion, however, when he couldn't spot Gus among the group as they moved through an aisle.
Gus had veered away from the group, driven by curiosity to explore the differences between this store and the ones in Gravesfield. While the structures bore resemblances and offered similar merchandise, he found himself staring at the largest television that he had ever seen since arriving on Earth. "Whoa…" he let out, gazing up at the display – a colossal 65-inch television screen. The video playing on the screen depicted wildlife in a mountainous landscape, the image strikingly vivid and sharper than the televisions Camila owned.
He felt a bit bad for Camila. Philip had destroyed one of her televisions, and two of Elizabeth's monsters had destroyed her bedroom. He couldn't help but wonder how she was handling these recent events. Now that he thought about it, maybe gifting her a brand new, huge television might provide her with some comfort and would be great to use for everyone to watch movies and shows together.
His eyes were drawn to the price tag: approximately fifteen hundred dollars. He wondered how he could get that amount of money. The idea of maybe getting a job at the store while waiting for Sister's Lilian's arrival crossed his mind.
"My brother says these televisions don't look as good at home as they do here." Gus was startled by a girl's voice beside him. Turning toward her, he found a young girl around his age with a high blonde ponytail observing the same television. She directed her green gaze to him without hesitation.
A rush of excitement surged through Gus – a human girl was talking to him!
Well, a different human girl, one who wasn't Luz, nuns, or Camila.
A surge of countless questions ran through his mind, but he held them back as he didn't want to scare her away, especially since his questions might give away that he wasn't human.
"Um... Why is that?" he asked, genuinely curious about her statement.
The girl cast her gaze toward the ceiling, lost in thought momentarily, before turning back to him and offering a nonchalant shrug.
"I forgot why," she admitted before smiling. "Oh, by the way, I'm Brylee."
Gus smiled. "Gus," he introduced himself.
"Hmm, Gus…" She gazed at him inquisitively. "Are you one of the new kids staying up at that house on the hill?"
Gus hesitated, not sure how to respond.
"We're a small town, and you know what they say about small towns," she remarked, leaning in closer to him. An unfamiliar flutter danced in his stomach, and a warmth crept up his face, causing him to lean back slightly.
"Um… I'm not quite familiar with what they say about small towns," he admitted.
"Well, they say that we know everyone," she stated. "Which is true. And when newcomers arrive, we find out about them right away." Gus regarded her with confusion as she pulled back. "We heard that the old priest brought in new teenagers to live in that house, and usually he brings in troublemakers from other towns to help them straighten up with supposedly God's 'help'. You seem nice, but you must have done something pretty bad to end up in that house."
Gus blinked, recalling Sister Lilian's explanation of what the house was used for. "Oh, no, we were relocated because we lost our home recently," he replied, repeating what Sister Lilian told them to say to anyone if they were asked about their background.
A sympathetic expression replaced Brylee's previous demeanor. "Oh, that sucks," she said. "What happened?"
"A terrible fire."
"Damn. So, you legit lost everything then?"
Gus nodded silently. In a way, he did kind of lose everything for the time being – unable to return home to his father and his home.
"Well, I'm sorry that happened to you," she said empathetically. "So, are you going to be going to school here for now?"
"Hum…no, I won't be, though I wish I could. It would be cool to go to a human school—I mean, yeah, school," he quickly corrected himself.
Brylee observed him with interest. "Ah, so you're homeschooled," she concluded before her phone vibrated in her hand. After reading the message, she sighed. "Damn, well, I have to go. My mom's waiting for me at the front."
"Oh." Gus felt disappointment settling in; he was enjoying their conversation. Brylee seemed nice and cool by how stylish she was with straight-legged jeans and a tight top with super cool white looking sneakers.
"I could give you my Snapchat if you want so we can talk later," she offered. "Or I can give you my phone number."
"I don't have a phone," Gus replied, which initially made Brylee have a look of shock, but then she quickly adjusted her expression. He probably lost his phone in the fire. As another text message reached her phone, she glanced at it.
"Well, come over to the park so we can hang out," she said. "I'll introduce you to some of my friends, too. We all go to the same middle school and usually hang out at the park in the evenings."
Gus looked excited at the invitation. Not only was he being welcomed to spend time with other teenagers his age, but they were humans, too.
"Yeah, sure, I will be up for that," Gus accepted eagerly.
"Cool, well, I'll see you later then," she said with a grin. "And if I don't, I'll hunt you down." She added the last part playfully before darting off.
Gus placed a hand over his chest, sensing his heart racing in a wonderfully exhilarating manner. Despite his apprehensions about mingling with a group of teenagers due to his previous unpleasant experience back on the Boiling Isles, he decided maybe things would turn out to be different this time around.
Or so he hoped…
He pushed the uncertain thoughts away when he noticed Hunter approaching him.
"There you are." His attention was immediately drawn to the massive television in front of Gus. "Whoa, that's a huge one," he commented, wide-eyed in awe.
"Right?" Gus beamed at him. "It would be cool to get one for Camila as a gift for everything she has done for us. Well… it's the least we can do."
Hunter rested a hand under his chin, his expression pensive as he mulled over the idea. "Yeah… it would be a nice gift," he said, lost in thought for a moment. Eventually, the two of them headed back to rejoin Camila and the rest of their group.
Philip had finished washing himself, exchanging his soiled clothes for the ones Margaret had provided. The fabric of the pants was remarkably soft against his skin, and the large black T-shirt engulfed him comfortably. The pants, a deep shade of charcoal, draped loosely around him, reminiscent of pajamas that people from the Boiling Isles wore.
Afterwards, Margaret allowed him a moment to rest on the bed while she prepared the bathroom. Eventually, Philip found himself seated in a chair inside the restroom, positioned near the sink. Margaret adjusted the faucet in the tub to achieve the right soothing temperature. She draped a towel over his shoulders and chest, ensuring those areas stayed dry.
She pulled out a pair of scissors, making Philip confused.
"We're shaving that beard off," she announced. "Camila thought it might be a good idea. She said it may help you feel better. But we're going to need to trim it before I can shave it off."
Philip was indifferent about the beard; he had no attachment to it, nor did he oppose their decision. He just didn't think it was worth the effort to remove it since it would just grow again, and he just didn't want to deal with shaving it off later. He remained seated, leaning his head back slightly against the sink as instructed by Margaret as she carefully snipped away some of the excess hairs before applying a foamy substance. The sensation of the tool, similar to a blade, was peculiar but not uncomfortable as she used it to efficiently remove the remaining hairs.
Eventually she was done, wiping off his face with a damp cloth. Philip sensed the coolness and freshness on his face. The focus then shifted to his hair. Margaret adjusted the shower head extension, and he leaned his head back again. Philip closed his eyes instinctively as the water began to flow.
Originally, he refused to let Margaret wash his hair and assured her he would do it himself, but Margaret was not letting him get his way since the wound on his chest felt like it was tearing him open and his breathing became labored when he moved too much.
The soft sound of water flowing became more pronounced, and he felt the gentle touch of the shower head extension against his hairline. At first, as the warm water cascaded over his hair, Philip tensed up, and he grew even stiffer when he felt Sister Margaret's hands through his hair. She pulled out the small branch that was in Philip's hair before washing away the purple residue that was also lingering in his head. With the debris removed, she reached for a bottle of shampoo, pouring a small amount onto her palm before her fingers worked it against his scalp.
"You didn't take a single shower during the week you stayed with us," Margaret remarked. Philip's frame became less tense as her fingers maneuvered through his hair, though his posture still showed discomfort. "Camila said you did take one when you were back at her house, but I expect you to shower at least once every other day. I won't stand by and watch you slowly deteriorate in front of those children."
Philip said nothing, feeling his chest ache for a different reason as he took in her words.
Margaret washed off the shampoo from Philip's hair before massaging a second round of it, doing her best to get every section cleaned. While her hands worked, she occasionally stole glances at Philip's expression. He appeared calm even though he was still letting out painful breaths. She wasn't sure how he managed to hide the extent of his pain. He probably didn't want to show it to her or to anyone else.
"Please watch over Philip," Father Francis said to her quietly after they walked out of earshot of the others. "And I do mean make sure he's taking care of himself, or at least help him with that. From what I saw back at the church, he may try to help the children, even if it destroys him."
Father Francis entrusted her with a task, to make sure she watched over Philip's well-being and safeguard him from his own self-destructive tendencies. And yes, even she had taken notice of how neglectful he was of himself when he was on a mission. He had almost destroyed himself by trying to kill witches, and she was concerned how much further he would go to help the kids, especially since he seemed to be drowning himself in guilt.
According to the children, Philip was immortal, so she didn't want to find out how someone like him would look completely "destroyed".
Well, now that she thought about it… maybe she was also pushing him into hiding his pain and the depression that he probably had.
Yes, only a fool wouldn't notice that Philip wasn't depressed.
Alright, she didn't realize he was depressed until recently, and only because Masha had told her.
She wondered now, though, if Philip knew he was depressed. Better yet, did he know what depression was…?
Now she felt rather cruel, as she probably sounded so dismissive to him, and he was just taking it without any complaints.
"Maybe I can see if you can stay in my room," she suggested as the idea formed in response to trying to help him out in some way. "The other bed is currently unoccupied."
Philip's shoulders tensed and he opened his eyes to look at her as if she lost her mind.
Margaret rolled her eyes, having an idea why he was looking at her in that way. "Oh please, Philip, it's the 21st century," she said. "There is nothing wrong with male and female adults sharing a room together."
Philip averted his gaze to the side. "I'm staying in the barn," he said firmly.
She shouldn't have been too surprised by his response.
"Well, the offer's open if you change your mind," she said before rinsing off his hair from the shampoo again. "I wouldn't be surprised if Camila makes you stay, especially since she needs to change your bandages."
She grabbed the bottle of conditioner and poured a big glob into his hair, massaging it so it would distribute evenly. After washing it out, she towel-dried his hair before guiding him to sit upright. Her touch was gentle as she wrapped a different towel around his damp hair.
"Feeling a tad better now that you're not so filthy and with a fresh shave?" she asked as he started at the wall.
While Philip did appear marginally better, the absence of emotion in his demeanor only deepened her worry. She pressed the back of her hand against his forehead, noting the persistent warmth that had yet to abate. Not a good sign, but at least he was immortal, so she wouldn't have to worry about him dying from a bad infection.
Then again, who knew how badly he was actually hurting from his current state?
"Let's hope Camila has something to help with the pain," Margaret remarked.
"I'll manage," Philip uttered, his voice strained as he slowly leveraged himself from the chair. Margaret assisted him to his feet, her supporting arm offering steadiness. "I'll eventually heal."
She said nothing in reply, and as they exited the bathroom, their ears caught faint rumblings of commotion coming from downstairs.
Margaret had him sit down on the bed, and eventually Camila entered the room with a bag of supplies. Her initial glance at him elicited a blink, followed by a gentle smile.
"You definitely look better without the beard," she said, walking over to him as he met her gaze. She began retrieving supplies from the bag. "Found a detangler spray," she noted to Margaret.
"Excellent," the former nun responded, unveiling a mop of wet hair as she removed the towel from Philip's head. "We'll be needing that for sure."
And just like that, Philip was sitting on the chair again, but this time in the living room with both women on either side of him with wide teeth combs, trying to detangle his hair after spraying some of the contents from the bottle that Camila had bought. They were doing their best not to cause him further discomfort. Of course, they probably wouldn't know if they were hurting him since Philip remained quiet, except for his breathing still sounded troubled, but not as bad as before.
"So…" Camila let out, feeling awkward in the silence. Even though Margaret didn't seem to mind it, Camila couldn't stand it. The combination of the silence and Philip's breathing reminded her too much of the last hospital visits for Manny… "I'm going to need to check that wound of yours and replace the wraps after this."
Philip didn't respond.
She held back from sighing. She definitely didn't prefer the previous Philip, since he wanted to hurt her daughter and kill her friends, but at least she didn't feel like she was talking to a brick wall.
"The kids were talking and thinking of asking you to teach one of them how to use healing spells," she said.
Interacting with the children was the last thing Philip wanted to do any time soon, but having one of the kids know how to heal would be beneficial.
"Maybe they could heal you in case what I'm doing isn't helping," Camila said.
Philip didn't want the children wasting their time on him, but maybe the wound on his chest would have some good use…
"And—dios mio, Philip!" Camila was having a difficult time untangling a particularly stubborn knot. "If you don't brush your hair yourself every day, then I'm doing it myself."
A furrow etched Philip's brow. And he knew she would follow through with her threat.
After nearly an hour of struggling, during which Camila bore the brunt of the struggle – Margaret, in contrast, seemed to glide through the task – Philip's unruly hair started to finally look better.
"You have so much hair," Margaret commented as she combed through his hair with ease. Philip found himself momentarily lost in the sensation, closing his eyes to savor the softness he was feeling.
Suddenly, a loud and unexpected noise erupted as Camila turned on the hair dryer she got from the bathroom. Philip jolted so forcefully that he jumped from the chair, his heart racing as his body reacted to the sudden and sharp noise. His wide eyes fixated on the machine that Camila was holding in shock and in total confusion.
Camila's face had a mixture of concern and guilt from Philip's startled reaction. She hadn't expected him to respond in such an abrupt way, and she immediately regretted not warning him beforehand. He'd probably never seen a hair dryer before.
"Philip, I'm so sorry," Camila said softly. "I should have warned you about the noise. It's just a hair dryer. It's used to dry your hair quickly after washing it. I thought it would be better to dry your hair up so you could rest and not worry about it being all wet."
Philip closed his eyes once he understood there was no danger. It annoyed him how easily startled he responded to a harmless machine. It reminded him of when he was a child, weak and cowardly.
He calmed his racing heart.
"Maybe we should just try to towel his hair as much as we can," Camila suggested to Margaret.
"No, it's fine," Philip said calmly, after gathering himself and sitting back on the chair. "You just caught me by surprise."
Camila was hesitant before turning on the blow dryer, this time from a reasonable distance so it wasn't too loud for him, then began to dry his hair.
Once that was done, Camila had him lying on the bed to tend to his wound again. Black matter had built up, and she cleaned it off like last time, doing her best not to cause much pain to Philip before applying saline solution then an ointment before she wrapped some gauze around him again. He put his shirt back.
"Alright, I think you should take a nap right now," Camila said. "It's best if you stay here, at least-"
She was cut off by Philip forcing himself to his feet and walking out the door.
"Philip!" Margaret called out to him, annoyed by his abruptness.
Philip walked down the stairs, not wanting to waste the women's time any longer. Camila's consistent concern, her caring nature, and her attention to his well-being irritated him. Yes, having his wound attended to, his body cleansed, and his beard removed made him feel slightly better, but he was drowning in guilt for benefiting from Camila and Margaret's help when he felt he didn't deserve it. He wanted to apologize to Camila for the trouble he had caused her, but of course he couldn't stand the idea of her thinking he was saying sorry because she was currently tending to him.
Some of the children gathered in the living room looked up at him, but he didn't spare a glance in their direction as he made his way out of the house as fast as he could and went straight to the barn. He walked into the building and the first thing he noticed was that the lights were on and standing there, covering something with a white sheet, was Luz.
She looked surprised to see him for a second. Maybe she didn't expect him to come into the barn, or maybe the lack of beard caught her off guard. But then a wide grin spread across her face.
"Oh, cool, I didn't expect to see you here so soon," she chimed, her tone filled with anticipation and excitement, which made him look at her with suspicion and weariness. "You're just in time and you look great, by the way. So, yesterday, Masha pointed out how we could help you learn how to communicate better with us, and I thought, not only should we help you with that, but I thought we could do so much more to help you," Luz said with amusement. "So, I spent hours preparing an amazing plan and, well…" She yanked the sheet away, revealing a board covered in notes, drawings, and a vibrant rainbow at the top. "Welcome, Philip, to your first class to become a good person and find redemption!"
Philip couldn't help but stare at the board utterly stunned, completely caught off guard, unsure what he walked himself into while dread slowly made its way up in his chest.
Maybe resting in Sister Margaret's room wasn't such a terrible idea after all…