Chapter 89: Chapter 34: House of healing

> “The children departed with their treasures. And now I can take mine: the gold token and the Chair of the Guild.”

“I want to go inside,” said Beatrice three days later at our old stomping grounds, Bleecker Street Grounds (pun intended). She was dressed like she had fallen in the dumpster behind an East Village thrift store and had shorn her black hair into a bob, but for some reason, had kept the gray streak in the front.

“Out of the question,” I said. “Even if I sneak you in with my invisibility cloak,” Beatrice’s eyes lit up at the mention of it, “I’m sure there are a dozen other things inside that could detect you.”

“No one seemed to notice the glamour waltzing out of the north tower,” said Beatrice. I had explained the circumstances behind her apparent escape from my supposedly impenetrable office. “And I can’t believe the Guild was hiding right there, just blocks from my apartment this whole time. They didn’t need to do anything to keep an eye on me. I walked by that stupid fake castle multiple times a week!”

“It was fate, I guess,” I said. “And what do you plan on doing if I get you inside? Stroll up to Dalia’s office and punch her in the face?”

“No,” said Beatrice. “Stab her in the gut with the Medoblad and then keep her statute in my den for the next 10 years.”

“You don’t have a den,” I pointed out. “Just a warehouse in some godforsaken former mining town.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes.

“Yes, thank you for reminding me I am yet again between places. By the way, did you tell anyone you were back in town? Hugo didn’t come calling to take you home in his fancy jet?”

“I didn’t,” I said. “Figured he can come find me if he wants.”

“So you still think it’s a total coincidence that you two show up at my nice little bungalow and then the next day someone blows it up?”

“Not sure what I feel about coincidences anymore,” I said. “But maybe you should be asking a different question. Do you think it’s a total coincidence that you tried to drain the energy or life force or whatever from the largest tree in the country and then the next day someone tries to blow you up?”

“I had asked myself that question,” said Beatrice. “And why I was so arrogant to think I could have succeeded in what I set out to do that morning.”

She got up ostensibly to refill her giant mug of coffee, but I knew better. I wasn’t sure whether I liked this “new” version of Beatrice, who seemed to be lacking some of the stone-cold resolve I had seen so many times. In its place was a much-needed sliver of vulnerability, but when push came to shove, which woman did I want in my corner?

Before I could wrestle with that quandary further, the front door chime sounded and in walked Duncan. He was clean-shaven, dressed in a non-stained shirt, and his appearance rekindled some of the same feelings I felt for him when I first spotted him back at RPGLab all those years ago.

“Hi Dunc,” I said, waving him over to our table and he sat down in Beatrice’s seat before she could return. “You seem…”

“Normal. You can say it,” he said, with a half-smile. “After the first hour of hammering in the forge, D.C. couldn’t stand to look at me, so he made me shave with a straight razor and brought me some new clothes.”

“Lover boy, move,” said Beatrice, who returned with an extra mug of piping hot coffee, and Duncan gave me a look before shuffling to the other seat.

“Um, OK. Who are you?” he asked.

“A friend,” I said. “She’s going to cure you. Remember? The reason I needed D.C.’s help in the first place?”

“Not really,” said Duncan. “The last month has been kind of a blur, to be honest.”

“A month?” I said. “Dunc, I’ve only been gone a week. Has it gotten that much worse?”

“No,” he said. “It did the trick, like you said! Hammer all day, sleep all night on a cot at the other end of the forge. Or maybe the reverse. There’s not a lot of natural light down in the basement. It’s hard to tell sometimes. But the monotony meant I never forgot anything because every morning it was the same as the day before.”

“You’re welcome?” I said, not quite believing that my half-baked idea had actually worked. “But that’s over, hopefully. Drink this.”

I pushed the coffee in front of Duncan, whose pupils dilated slightly, and he starting chugging the whole thing.

“Not all of it,” I said, and he immediately put the mug down and wiped the brown liquid from his chin.

“You neglected to mention this,” said Beatrice out of the side of her mouth.

“What?” I asked.

“That he’s, you know, enthralled.”

“I didn’t have a…” I stopped myself before Beatrice could bite my head off, and turned to face Duncan.

“Hey,” I said to him, and he looked at me like a puppy waiting to be scratched under the ear. “You don’t have to trust me anymore.”

The solution was so simple I was annoyed at myself for not thinking of it earlier. For no sooner had the words left my lips did Duncan’s eyes go blank for the last time, and when he came to again, it was as if a boulder had been shoved off of his back.

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“What … what just happened?” he asked. “You did something else to me, didn’t you?” There was an accusatory note in his voice that had been sorely missing since our train ride up to New York, and while I was happy to hear it, it would all be for naught if Beatrice’s tablets failed to live up to their end of the bargain.

“Yes,” I said. “We’ve been over this.”

“Have we?”

I paused. Did he still remember what I had admitted? With all the lying and the compulsion, I wasn’t sure. But for all I knew, he had hidden a recorder in his pocket and had tapes of everything, the diary a convenient cover to distract me. And did I want an unhinged Duncan out for revenge? Even if he was now cured, there was no telling how much the memory loss would haunt him going forward.

I shook my head back and forth like I had eaten a sour lemon. That was not the person I wanted to be, just trying to duck my problems and hoping they went away.

“Sorry, what were you saying? Do you not remember what I told you in DC?” I asked, acting naive.

“You know I don’t,” said Duncan. “I went down there to confront you and somehow you still haven’t admitted anything, despite my best efforts.”

“Yes, well, now it’s time to come clean. I did this to you and I’m sorry. And if you drink the rest of that coffee, I promise it will stop and you’ll be back to as normal as you can.”

“I knew it,” he said, banging his fist against the table and spilling some of the coffee. “I fucking knew it!”

“Hush, you stupid man child,” said Beatrice. “And quit wasting that! Do you know much it’s worth?”

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s just … I’ve been waiting for her to admit what she did for so long. I can’t believe she actually said it.”

“Me neither,” said Beatrice. “But drink up please before I decide to do something else to you.”

Duncan nodded and gulped down the rest of his coffee without another word.

“For the record,” I said. “I already admitted what I had done. It’s not my fault you failed to write it down before you forgot it.”

“You can pat yourself on the back for that moral victory then,” said Duncan as he finished.

“Did it work?” I asked. “He doesn’t seem any different.”

“Of course it worked,” said Beatrice, grabbing the empty mug from him and inspecting its lack of contents. “But he won’t be convinced of it for a while.”

“I’m convinced,” said Duncan. “It’s like … a fog has been lifted. And … I can see the way forward now.”

“That’s a stupid metaphor for someone with memory loss,” said Beatrice. “Just ring Jen tomorrow and tell her you remember everything from today and we’ll all call it square.”

“It won’t be,” he said. “Not even close. And what about the other two?”

“They’ll be here shortly,” I said. “I’m trying to make good on what I did.”

“I don’t think you’ll ever be able to do that,” said Duncan. “Last time I spoke to them, they were hardly functioning. It’s amazing that Lisa’s husband actually went through with the wedding.”

“That you somehow remember?” I said without thinking, and Beatrice glared at me.

“Umm, no,” he said sheepishly. “It was in one of my notebooks.”

“Oh. Sorry,” I said. “Look, Didn’t mean to-”

“Yes, we’ll all deal with Jen’s moral reckoning later,” said Beatrice. “It will be a ticketed event. But for now, I need you to skedaddle so we can wrap up this mind-healing pop-up store before someone says something.”

“No,” said Duncan. “I want to watch, to make sure she goes through with it. To make sure it works.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” said Beatrice.

“And why not?” said Duncan, getting indignant. “This was all an act, wasn’t it? You gave me some temporary fix to get me out of your hair and by tomorrow I’ll-”

“Because you’re annoying me. And Jen told me what you did to her. Despite what she ended up doing to you, I don’t fault her for trying to get back at you, you boorish prick.”

“Fuck you!” said Duncan. “You don’t know what I’ve been through, you can’t-”

“Actually, you’re wrong,” said Beatrice. “I know exactly what you’ve been through. And if you don’t get the fuck out of my coffee shop right now, I’m going to add you as a decoration.”

“What the hell does that mean?” he said, smirking. “You going to turn me to stone or something?”

I resisted the urge to laugh as Beatrice pulled out a Tupperware container.

“Hey, you’re smarter than I thought,” she said, opening the lid and pushing it across the table to Duncan. He and I both peered inside to see a small stone mouse.

“What is that?” I asked in faux shock.

“What it looks like: a mouse that I turned to stone. With my magic knife,” said Beatrice. “If you come back tomorrow, I’ll do a live demonstration for you.”

“What. The. Hell,” said Duncan. “You’re fucking nuts. I’m done with this.”

He pushed his chair back and nearly toppled over onto the ground before running out the door.

“Wait!” I yelled, to no avail. “You forgot the package for D.C. Ugh, fine. One more errand to take care of.”

“Can I come along?” asked Beatrice.

“Maybe,” I said. “And thanks, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For sticking up for me.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said. “It probably won’t happen again, but I can’t stand men like him.”

“What was that about this being your coffee shop?” I asked.

“Oh, just a thought I had earlier. I always liked this place. Was thinking of buying the building. And buying out the owner of BSG too.”

“That’s … that’s great?” I said. “But I didn’t think you were going to stay here in the city. What with your ex and-”

“They’re gone,” said Beatrice. “Garrett took Jack-Jack and moved down to Florida to live at his parents’ house for the winter. At least that’s what I was able to find out a few months ago. Not sure where they are now. Maybe in Newport. I’m a year out from seeing him. And that’s if I don’t get into any trouble.”

“I’m so sorry, B, I had no idea,” I said.

“It’s OK,” she said. “It was my fault. Should have kept a more level head.”

The front chime sounded again and in walked Lisa and Stacy, to whom level headed could not even charitably be used. For no sooner had the door closed did the two of them just stop and stare off into space, as if an invisible hand had shoved them through the precipice and then departed. I couldn’t believe how much worse Lisa seemed than from when I had seen her only a week ago.

“Ladies!” shouted Beatrice enthusiastically. “Please join us.” They complied and sat down at the two empty chairs at our table, where they continued their staring-into-space contest.

“Why are you so chipper?” I whispered to Beatrice, when it was clear that my erstwhile friends were not planning to engage any further unless prompted.

“Because,” she said, “I’m excited to see how effective these tablets are. I prepared two different versions using two different methods, one incredibly more time consuming than the other. If both work the same, then this could be huge in terms of-”

“So you’re using my friends as guinea pigs?” I hissed. “What if it just makes it even worse?”

“Not possible,” said Beatrice. “The alchemy is rock solid. Plus, I already tested it on actual guinea pigs. And then some of the individuals I had used for my other … work. But of course I was unable to test the long-term effects, so-”

“Listen to yourself!” I said. “You sound like the other version of you. Just cure them and let’s move on!”

“Normally I would agree with you Jen,” called out a familiar voice behind us and I turned to see Lucca Josephie standing in the entranceway to the coffee shop’s hidden back bar wearing her trademark beanie. “But there’s something to be said for advancing the cause of progress.”

“Who is this?” asked Beatrice as the purple-haired alchemist came over to join our now-crowded table. “Who are you?”

“I’m Lucca,” she said and reached out her hand to Beatrice awkwardly, as if she was meeting a celebrity. “Second Seat of the Breuckelen Table. It’s so nice to finally meet you!”