“Of course. I love you. We will solve this problem, I promise.”
I smiled. “I love you, too.”
Judy had waited patiently during that conversation, and after I hung up, she said, “I think you need to talk to someone.”
My jaw clenched. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’ve been through a lot of trauma and it’s a miracle you don’t have PTSD or something. Or maybe you do, and you’re just good at hiding it.”
“All right,” I said irritably, “let’s say I need therapy. Who do you suggest I talk to? Any psychologist I go to will think I’m insane if I start talking about monsters and magical bookstores.”
Judy rolled her eyes. “There are therapists at the Gunther Node,” she said. “Why are you so resistant to the idea? Plenty of people see therapists these days. It’s no different from going to a doctor because you have back pain, or whatever.”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with therapy. I just don’t think I need it. I talk to you and Viv about my troubles, and I tell Malcolm everything.”
“That’s not the same as having it out with someone who knows how to help you overcome your problems.” Judy hopped off the stool and stretched. “Keep it in mind, okay? It can’t be healthy for you to be wound so tight all the time.”
So she’d noticed something, despite all my care. “I’ll think about it,” I promised. “Now, let’s have lunch.”
But before we could enter the break room, Madeleine emerged from the basement. She looked as tidy and clean as before, annoying me. “The wards are secure,” she said. “I have increased their power as much as can be without making the store physically impregnable.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I guess we still need to be able to get into Abernathy’s.”
“Exactly.” She regarded me with that same neutral expression I hated. I knew it concealed a different emotion, and it bugged me that I didn’t know which one.
“Well…thanks,” I said again, and stood aside to let her pass.
She didn’t move. “You knew the custodian of the Fountain of Youth?”
“I did. She was a good friend.”
“Then I am sorry for your loss.”
She didn’t exactly look sorry, but I decided to take her at her word. “Thanks. It hasn’t really sunk in yet.”
“That is how it feels to lose someone,” Madeleine said, and just for a second, her composure cracked. “There is the…disbelief, saying ‘What?’ and going on saying it for many days.”
Since I’d lost another friend just four months before, I almost replied with something sarcastic. But this was the most vulnerable Madeleine had ever been with me, and it was unexpectedly touching. “That’s how it feels, yes,” I said. “Like…why haven’t I heard from her today?”
“Yes. That.” Madeleine’s expression softened. “It is a tragedy on many levels. Two named Neutralities gone.”
“Yes, I—what did you say?”
Madeleine’s eyes narrowed at my sharp tone. “I say it is tragic for more—”
“No, I mean—what about two Neutralities? Only one was lost.”
“Only one today,” Madeleine said. “The Well was lost long ago. You do not know this?”
I glanced at Judy, who seemed not at all surprised by this news. “I didn’t. What’s the Well?”
“The Wishing Well,” Judy said. “It was destroyed before I was born. I didn’t realize you hadn’t heard that story.”
“I thought a Neutrality couldn’t be destroyed. Isn’t that why everyone’s so worried about losing the Fountain?”
“It was not the same,” Madeleine said. “The Well was not destroyed as the Fountain was. It was corrupted, put beyond use. But it is still there.”
“I want to hear about this,” I said.
Madeleine shrugged. She walked into the break room and took a seat. I hadn’t actually meant for her to tell me about it, but I wasn’t going to be rude. I sat opposite her at the folding table, and Judy leaned against the door frame.
“The Wishing Well is the oldest of the named Neutralities,” Madeleine said. “It is in what is now Iraq. Baghdad. People would toss in a thing of value and make their wish, and the Well would grant it according to how valuable the thing was. The custodian gathered the offerings…it was as all the named Neutralities are, that they collect money and so forth. But the Well was different. Not all the offerings were retrieved, as if the Well kept some for itself. But that does not matter.”
She leaned forward as if she wanted to put her elbows on the table but was too well-bred. “Some fifty years ago there was fighting in the Middle East. Not of the mundane type. Magical war. And not between factions, but Nicollien fighting Nicollien, family against family. One family decided to prevent the other from use of the Wishing Well. They killed the custodian and dumped his body into the Well.”
I covered my mouth to hold back a gasp. “That’s horrible!”
“They were not good people. The Nicollien Archmagus finally sent in others who destroyed both families utterly. They tried to retrieve the custodian’s body, but it had vanished.”
“I heard the water in the Well turned bloody after that day,” Judy said.
“I do not know that,” Madeleine said. “What is certain is that from that day forward, anyone daring to wish on the Well is cursed. Some die immediately, others suffer terrible misfortunes, but there are no exceptions. The Well is poisoned.”
“So it might as well be destroyed,” I mused. Two gone, four remain. But why had the oracle referred to the named Neutralities as guardians? I’d had one question answered, but that left a slew of them I didn’t understand.
“Yes,” Madeleine said. “I think the Arabian nodes have not given up trying to reclaim the Well, but they keep to themselves these days. Few foreign magi are allowed in the Middle East.”
“I’d heard that. It’s weird to think the whole area was shut down for reasons not relating to the Long War.”
“Ours are not the only problems in the world, just the most serious.” Madeleine stood and straightened her pantsuit. “You will call me if you see any problems with the wards, yes?”
“I…sure, I guess so.” She’d sounded perfectly professional, and I’d responded without thinking. Well, if Madeleine could change even a little bit, I could be big enough to accept it.
We walked with her to the front door, where she nodded farewell and walked to Abernathy’s magically reserved parking space and the sporty red coupe parked in it. I watched her drive away and said, “Was that surreal, or was it just me?”
“I didn’t think she was capable of ordinary conversation,” Judy replied.
“Maybe she’s changing. She can’t be happy, holding in all that anger and bitterness all the time.”
“You’re too optimistic to be real,” Judy said.
“I’m not that optimistic. You didn’t hear me invite her to dinner, did you?” I ran my fingers through my hair and yawned. “I wish I could go home and end this day already. I don’t know if I can bear any more shocks.”