Page 29 of A Witch’s Guide to Love and Poison

29

S he had one day left to find the cure, and everything to lose if she didn’t. The poison had spread past Deeba’s little arms to her chest, the dark veins reaching for her heart like the claws of death.

Bisma was her baji; she would not let that happen.

Mind whirring, she walked to Xander’s worktable, which was covered with ingredients and plants. They had gotten so close, but she didn’t know the exact measurements of what they had been mixing—Xander usually handled that, making meticulous notes.

That was it: she just needed his notes.

Rummaging around the table, she searched for his notebook, moving from space to space until she finally spotted it. But as she picked it up, she noticed something beneath it.

A keepsake box, the same as the one on Eleanora’s desk in her library.

She wondered if his would be locked, like Eleanora’s was. This wasn’t the time to investigate, but she couldn’t help but to indulge her curiosity. The keepsake box hadn’t always been there; she would have noticed it.

Something struck her then: what had Xander said, just minutes—what felt like hours now—before? That there was something he wanted to show her.

Setting the notebook aside, she tested the clasp of the box, and it opened with no difficulty. The box easily displayed its contents to her. She should not have let her curiosity take the best of her—not when there was so much to be done in so little time—but it felt like there was something she needed to know.

Then she spotted something familiar.

A spot of ink on the edge of a page. A tear-stained smudge, to be precise.

One she had put there.

Bisma pulled out the folded papers. They were covered with streaks of dirt.

With a start, Bisma realized Xander was her anonymous friend.

These were her letters, kept safe in a keepsake box.

Blinking fast, Bisma turned back to Xander’s notebook, flipping it open. The evidence was there: his handwriting.

All this time! If she had only looked at his notes—looked even once!—she would have seen. Her heart hammered. She recalled Xander asking her to on numerous occasions, the expectant look on his face. But she had never been interested.

If only she had looked! He had been her constant companion, the person she wrote to when she felt there was nobody else she could unburden herself to. The friend who slowly but surely helped her lessen the fortifications around her heart.

All this time! And she had not appreciated it. She had not seen how wonderful he was!

It made sense now that her correspondent did not mind that she wrote less the more time she spent with Xander.

Xander. Of course it was Xander. Deep down, Bisma recognized that she’d always had an inkling it was him—had hoped for it even. At the festival he had been the only one to ask her to dance, after all.

Her heart ached at the memory. She yearned to go back to that moment, hours ago, when she was in his arms, her mouth sweet from sugared oranges, dancing beneath a thousand twinkling lights.

Bisma flicked through the keepsake box, finding every letter she had ever sent him until she found the very first one. The paper was worn as if it had been folded and unfolded many times. It was streaked with dirt and had little teeth marks on it.

So the Enchanted Forest had sent her letter to him.

A week ago, she might have wondered why, but now, lips still bruised from kissing him, she knew why. There was no more denying it.

She loved him. It was that simple.

Bisma had thought what she had with Gregory was love, that that was all love had the capacity to be, so of course she had scorned it all these years and kept away from it even as she longed for it.

But that wasn’t real— this , what she felt for Xander, what he felt for her, was true love. Him brushing her hair, the soft touch of his gentle hands; him, constantly forgiving her, even as she was cruel to him. Him knowing when to push, when to be silent. Letting her down only to pick her up again.

She had found him overbearing, too much, but now she saw that for him to fill her life with such brilliance was not a burden, but a gift, the very best gift she could ever hope to receive.

He was a flirt and overly cheery and liked her too much, but those were all good things—the very best things!—for it finally gave her the courage to like him, to adore him, to love him, to release the floodgates of all the love that was bubbling within her, the love that had previously been reserved only for her sisters, for the Enchanted Forest.

She had never thought such affection would be given to a man again, that she would ever feel this type of love, but now that Xander was still and motionless—and that love taken from her—she knew she wanted it back, that she would do anything to bring it back, just as she would do anything for her sisters, for the Forest.

They were all as much part of her as her magic, as her heart, as her soul. Xander was part of her now, and he was frozen, his life in danger. Bisma could not believe she had not realized what she felt for him sooner—she should have recognized it, appreciated it, basked in it.

What if he did not wake, and their love was lost forever?

She’d thought herself so clever. She’d thought she was being so careful, so cautious, that she was protecting herself, but really, she had been a fool all over again not to recognize the very best thing she had. She had conflated it with the worst thing to happen to her.

Tears filled her eyes. She had been punishing herself for having such a big heart, for thinking Gregory was better than he was, but that was not a character flaw in her ; she saw that now.

The true character flaw was to be too bitter to see a good man even when he was right in front of her.

She would rather be too kind, too open, too accepting and be proved the fool—as she had been with Gregory—than be too closed off, too mean, too angry and be proved the fool—as she had been with Xander.

To open your heart to love was not foolish; it was brave. And she wanted to be brave. Wasn’t that what she had been telling Luna all this time? To trust in others, in good people? To try, then try again?

Bisma took a deep breath, wiping her cheeks. With trembling hands, she put the letters back in the keepsake box, closed it, then turned to Xander’s notebook.

She had a long night ahead of her, and she would not fail.

She would not rob herself of the chance to do better.

Determined, Bisma read through Xander’s notes, her heart twisting painfully at the familiar script. She focused on the trials; they had gotten very close these past few days.

Even the trial with Nori, which seemed forever ago now, had been close to being successful. They had adjusted that potion with a dozen different ingredients, but it had not yielded results.

But what if they had been focusing on the wrong thing?

What if it was simple?

Mind whirring, Bisma recalled how the potion had seemed to work on Nori until she threw it up.

What if all they needed to add to the potion was something to help keep it down long enough for it to expel the poison?

Bisma got to work, growing different plants. After that, she grew the potion, mixing it precisely as Xander’s notes instructed, then added in the new ingredients—but the problem was how to test it? They could not test it on the magical evergreen trees, like they had been doing.

She needed to test it on someone.

Well, there was only one thing for it.

Taking a deep breath, Bisma drank the potion. It felt cool going down her throat, like an iced drink after a long, hot day, and for a moment, she felt energized— good . Until it soured in her stomach as if someone had reached in and squeezed.

Before she could help it, then she retched into a bin.

Wiping her mouth, Bisma stood. She drank water—then got back to work.

Bisma worked all night: growing plants, making potions, taking notes the way Xander would have. She tested each trial on her body, each time upending the contents of her stomach.

It was horrible, awful, but she kept glancing at the still bodies of her sisters, at the still body of her love, and turned back with renewed vigor until the early morning came, and she passed out in her seat for a few hours, completely spent.

When she woke, she ate some of the cheese and dried fruit Xander kept at the greenhouse, along with a fortifying potion, then began again.

After half a dozen more failed attempts, she was exhausted. Her throat burned, but she kept going until the afternoon, tears streaming down her cheeks.

She had only until the evening before Deeba would die. The thought of losing her sister forced her to carry on, even as her body resisted such abuse.

Bisma took heart in the fact that she was getting closer and closer; she could feel it. The intensity of the vomiting was decreasing, until—

The vomit did not come.

She held her breath, not believing it.

‘Can it be?’ she whispered aloud, holding a hand over her mouth. Along with the hope, fear beat through her. She waited, standing perfectly still.

Then she felt the irritation in her throat heal, as if she had drunk a glass of cool water after a long day of thirst. The exhaustion from earlier faded away. The terrible taste of vomit left her mouth and was replaced by a fresh minty taste.

She felt … good. Wonderful even. Intensified further by the fact that she had done it.

She had found the cure!

Or had she?

Bisma waited, making sure the effects would continue to hold.

Her mind raced. But she had not been poisoned. What if the cure reacted differently in a poisoned body?

She could poison herself and test it, but what if it didn’t work and she died? There would be no one left to wake the others.

Her only choice was to test it on one of them.

But who?

She approached Xander, sitting beside him on the bed. If the cure failed, he would be fine, since the poison had spread the least in him. If it didn’t work, she could give him another dose of the freeze potion and try again.

But she really hoped it would work.

‘Please,’ she whispered, holding Xander’s head in her hand. She poured the cure into his mouth and waited.

For a moment, nothing happened, and she worried.

But then—he moved.

‘Xander?’ she whispered, curved over him, watching and waiting.

He let out a groan, eyes crinkling. ‘Bis?’ he said, voice rasped. And then his eyes opened, that brilliant emerald green, her favorite color, and her heart soared like a bird taking flight for the very first time.

‘Xander!’ she cried out. She leapt on him with a hug, arms going around his neck.

He wrapped his arm around her immediately, holding her.

She pulled away to make sure this was real—that he was really alright. She ran her hands through his hair, coming down to rest her fingers along his neck. His free hand came up to cup her cheek, and she pressed a kiss to his palm.

‘You did it,’ he said, mouth spreading into a slow smile. ‘That’s my girl.’

She surprised them both by pressing her lips to his.

He was so shocked he did not react for a second, but then he pulled her close, deepening the kiss. She smiled against his mouth then pulled back, breathless.

Absently, she felt relieved by the addition of mint into the cure’s recipe.

‘I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to see how wonderful you are,’ she said, eyes pricking with tears. She held his face in her hands. ‘But I can see you now. And you are a treasure.’

‘No, don’t apologize,’ he said, a soft expression on his face. ‘Every moment with you is a gift.’

‘Can you stand?’ she asked with a smile. ‘I want you to meet my sisters.’