I smiled at her. Her crazy banter was familiar, even though her voice was a little different. I brought the mug to my lips, grateful for an excuse not to answer her implied questions and assumptions.
I took a big gulp of the water in relief, only to gag when the tasteless mass hit my stomach. My body revolted, heaving as it tried to get the imposter out of me. I don’t know why I hadn’t checked, why I had assumed. Wyn hadn’t given me Black Water; it was regular water. It tasted like sand and moldy bread against my tongue, and it felt the same in my stomach. I hadn’t expected my body to have that kind of reaction, and I certainly wasn’t ready for what came next. My stomach heaved, and I turned to the side, my body expelling the mass in a bubbly mix of water and stomach acid.
“God, Jos, are you okay?” Wyn exclaimed, her body jumping away in disgust.
“Th-that’s wat-ter-r,” I managed to get out before my body embarrassed me again, more yellow acid spreading away from me and over the feathers that covered the stone floor.
“Well, duh, I told you I was getting water,” Wyn shrieked, her voice finally sounding like herself for once.
“I m-mean… it-t’s w-wat-ter.” I moved toward the wall, pressing my head against the cold stone in hope that the chill would stop my body from rebelling against me further. I wasn’t sure it was going to get the message, though; everything still felt like I had eaten a live fish. At least the anxiety had lessened to a manageable level. My stomach hadn’t reacted like that when I had forced down the mushrooms in Isola Santa. I wondered what the difference was.
“Yeah,” Wyn said in oblivious confusion.
I lifted my eyes to her, my body suddenly feeling extraordinarily heavy in understanding.
She didn’t know.
“Dude, is everything okay?” she asked again as her magic ran from her in a bright streak of red, the powerful surge burning away most of the mess I had just made.
I nodded at her and dumped the rest of the poisonous water over the smoldering remains of feathers and vomit, letting it run in long rivulets somewhere under the destroyed bed and away from us, thankfully taking the smell with it. I watched them run away as I placed my hand over the rim of the mug, the Black Water refilling immediately. I don’t know why Wyn had given me regular water in a mug that was made for Black, but no harm done. Well, besides a little bit of vomit.
I took a long drink and let the water supercharge me, taking my crazed emotions and settling them, letting the stress melt away until I felt a little less like a mental patient.
I looked up to Wyn, expecting that same opened-mouth wonder that Ilyan had given me. But, she just shook her head, a small smile playing around her lips, almost as if she had expected it.
“I guess we both have our secrets, huh?” she said as her body folded to sit right in front of me.
“What?”
“Never mind,” she sighed, her voice sounding oddly deep in my ears. “If I would have known it wasn't only Ilyan having a freak-out, I would have come sooner.”
“Where is Ilyan? I need to see him; I need to apologize,” I asked, my nerves prickling as I said his name.
I grabbed Wyn’s hand as I stood, ready to beg her to take me, but she didn’t even move. She only stared at me from where she sat, a giant smile plastered on her lips.
“You do love him,” she sighed, her voice practically melting around the words. “Thom said so, but I didn’t—”
“Wyn,” I groaned in interruption, really not wanting to go into this right now. “I need to see him.”
I looked down at her, my eyes pleading as I clung to her hand, desperate to go, and yet she still didn't move.
“He's not here, Jos,” Wyn said, the love-struck, teenager look on her face melting away. “He left after his little fit; probably to go destroy something else after he collapsed the cathedral on the other side of the grounds.”
“Destroy…” I began, unable to get out more than just the one word.
“Yeah, I thought it was weird. I mean, he helped to build this place back in the eleventh century, and he has spent most of his time restoring it since he purchased it in the eighteen-twenties.”
Guilt. Raw, violent, never-ending guilt slammed into me, taking my breath away. I just wanted to run away and cry and disappear, but I wasn't sure how that would help.
I slid down the wall. Specks of white fluff exploded into the air in a flurry of soft, warm snow at the abrupt movement, each feather feeling like a stab of pain in my chest. He had destroyed a chapel, and by the sound of it, it wasn't just any chapel; it had been a place that had meant something to Ilyan. It had been a treasured part of his past.
“What happened between you two?” Wyn asked as she sat down next to me, that same deeper strain still polluting her voice.
“We had a fight.” I still wasn’t sure how to categorize it.