CHAPTER 6

SILAS

“Julius informed me that you collapsed last night.”

I bear it in mind to carefully study my little harvest as I speak, catching every hint of her body language to ensure that I am consistently in control in this delicate conversation that we are about to have.

She forces a fake bout of laugher. I have known for quite some time that she has resented the fact that Julius has acted like a hawk over her life, constantly questioning her and returning to me. I also know that she has chosen to be quiet about the situation because I have carefully trained her to believe that she owes a debt to the park, to me. I don’t even think she has gotten to develop love for the young man for the past two years that they have been together. But I know that she will not leave him until her dying days because she believes it to be her duty.

Well, luckily for her, her dying days are fast approaching.

“He told me that he thinks you have not been consistent with your medication.”

“I have, father. What happened last night…”

“Was as a result of some other reason other than your failure to follow instructions? Your insistence of placing me with the burden of having to deal with episodes of the likes you used to have as a child?”

“No, father. Gosh, no. I hate what used to happen to me as a child and I am most abundantly grateful for the medication. I take it religiously every night.”

“So what happened?”

She hesitates. “I.. I touched my necklace. The one I came here with. And then, I blanked out.”

The necklace? No, it is powerless, I made sure of that before letting her come with it here as a performance of empathy. She touched it and fainted?

“What a ridiculous story.”

“Believe me, father. It’s real.”

It will need to be investigated into, then.

“And where is this necklace?”

“I didn’t pick it up for fear but I am certain that it has been placed on the shelves by the maids, and since there was no call for alarm, without the same episode as I had.”

Hmmm. My mind is racing. Could that, could that possibly be a tool? Something that could help? Or a hindrance, perhaps?

“Well, I will have the necklace examined to find out the truth of your words. But for now, I have a theory of my own. My theory is that you are growing older, growing different.”

“Different?”

I edge closer. “Yes, different. More sensitive. More affected by the park, our powers.”

She frowns. “And that is bad?”

“I believe so. Or well, it can be. If left unmanaged. I believe that to truly cure you of these maladies, permanently, we may need to take more stringent measures.”

I realize at this point that I need to put on the performance of sympathy and care. So, I let my expression constrict to something warm and fatherly and place a hand over hers.

“More stringent measures, father?”

“Yes. Something to give you a permanent cure. No one should be hooked on medication for the rest of her life and certainly not my daughter. So, I have been in consultation with a lot of… doctors, spell makers, the likes, searching for a cure for you. And I am glad to announce to you that I think I may have found one.”

There’s disbelief across her face, a result of the years of dependency on medication.

“You’ve always trusted me, haven’t you?”

The brief moment of hesitation before her nod angers me terribly, but I withhold myself from harming her for her brief display of ingratitude and disloyalty. She is needed, after all.

“Scyla. Come in.”

I have done a wonderful job of dressing the Lamashtu demon as a respectable person with the knowledge of medication and a bit of the mythical scientific arts. She looks almost believable.

“This is Dr. Scyla. She will be in charge of taking you through the process of purification and empowerment.”

“What, father? I thought that I will simply be receiving some more medication, stronger ones.”

I laugh. The silly fool.

“Medication? Of course not. What has availed you is stronger than what simple medication can handle, my dear daughter. Medication can only subdue the symptoms, never cure the cause. For your treatment, you will be empowered with enough magick to enable your body to completely expel the negative effects of your powerlessness in the midst of the supernatural.”

“I will be made a magical creature?” She perks up.

“I mean, you may gain some powers on the path to your cure, I guess. But the ultimate aim is your freedom from the torments and the faintings and the nightmares and all that you have had to suffer due to your deficiency as a human.”

“Okay, father.” The excitement underlying her tone makes me want to burst into further laugher. “What do I have to do?”

“You would need to go through a series of… let’s call them rituals.”