3. Hopeless Case

Catia admitted that Aria was the best healer so far, though her suggestions still confused her. Yesterday she had to keep a living frog inside her mouth for ten minutes. She almost accidentally took a bite out of the poor creatures. Then Aria gently cut into her front paw to let blood flow out of it, explaining that she though the illness was in her blood now.

Catia followed her instructions and held hope. She was treated well, in a large home, and allowed to sleep and walk around in nature. And still her heart told her these “medicine” weren’t helping.

It wasn’t right to her. How could you solve a headache by losing blood in your front paw? What did frogs have to do with any of it? And tomorrow morning, Aria said, he wanted to rub her entire body with fish oil. What would that accomplish?

She barely slept and often rolled over the floor in hopes of losing the tingling pain. The illness was getting worse, that was for sure.

With a sigh, she pulled herself out of bed. How could she ever look her parents in the face again? All their money spent on this healer, and she just wanted to leave? How would she tell them?

A bell rang twice. A new patient? At this hour?

The gate remained closed, so they were not “elite”. But Aria the owl, helpful as always, immediately flew outside.

She left her bedroom, walked the dark hallways, and left the palace through a side door. Yes, that’s what Aria called it. Along the way, she passed one room with a different kind of door, locked by at least five different types of locks.

No, don’t waste time. Check out the new visitor.

Just before reaching the gate lanterns, she hid behind some shrubs.

They were multiple visitors. Was … wasn’t that the dog who threw a tomato at her wagon? Now the dog lay inside a bread basket, carried by a fox and another dog. To complete the odd group, an emaciated black cat also appeared—the same species as her!

Aria didn’t even need to switch glasses. “No. This is a hopeless case.”

“Pardon?” said the fox. “Dormas is worth just as much as any other animal! Even if we come from the River District! I am sure some witch has cursed or poisoned him. The entire district reeks of the stench of witches!”

“It is not about money,” Aria said calmly. “He is unsavable. And witches don’t exist; demigods do. And they never ask money before providing their help.”

The group exploded with dissatisfaction.

“But … but …” said the black cat. She looked around anxiously, as her mouth formed several words without speaking them. “This looks like alcohol poisoning. You can survive that.”

Aria narrowed her eyes.

“I, erm, had an uncle who experienced the same thing. In Amor. Where I come from, remember?”

The owl shook her feathered head. “Bring him to the general hospital for his final days.”

Her reputation was known to rich and poor, legendary even. If she refused, you stood no chance at healing. If she accepted, you’d heal. No exceptions so far.

“Well, well, it’s not like you know everything!” the fox sneered. She spit onto the fence.

Dormas opened his eyes halfway and spoke with ragged voice. “I don’t drink that much. Just as much as the others. Even less! You are seeing this the wrong way.”

Aria took off her glasses. Her face was filled with a sadness that chilled Catia to her bone. “Unfortunately, I don’t see anything the wrong way.”

As she turned around, Aria snatched Catia from the shrubs without even looking. She did see everything!

“I am not mad,” she said. “But you must rest.”

Catia swallowed. “How do you know he dog can’t be saved? He looked like he was just sleeping.”

“I wouldn’t be the best healer on the continent if I shared my secrets,” she said with a smile, as they stepped inside. “This time, however, it has nothing to do with the illness itself. He’ll die from a fault in the brain of all animals.”

That confused Catia. Wasn’t Aria the one with a fault in her brain? Did she have to stay and endure her weird commands, just because she had never failed to heal someone?

“But Aria,” she whispered, back in bed. “Everyone you accept heals. Should that … must that mean that you are the one to heal them?”

Aria seemed to ignore her question at first, standing frozen before the open window. Then her beak twisted. “No. It doesn’t have to.”

She flew away.

Her parents would come tomorrow morning to see how things were going. The evening was young, the visitors still close. Today was a good day for her body.

So Catia made the decision before she could harbor any more doubts.

She crept out of the “palace”, through the black splotches in the gardens, to the gate. Which was unfortunately always well-lit and guarded.

“An evening stroll,” Catia said cheerfully. “Fresh air. Aria’s orders!”

The armed owl frowned at her, but let her through. It was incredibly nice on Aria’s estate. Everyone friendly. Lots of freedom. But she didn’t need friendly now; she need answers and solutions.

She speeded over the path that grew more rough as it reached the River District. Once she found the river itself, she followed it until a town square roughly in the center of the district.

The entire journey, the visitors were a small dot on the horizon, But now they were gone. They had to live nearby the town square, then. And the black cat seemed to know more about medicine than the others, so where was she?

She shivered in the cold, as if the wind was an icy first hitting her bones. She hobbled to the first door and knocked, followed by a pitiful meow.

A chagrined fox answered.

“No beggars!” he grunted. The door slammed shut and nearly broke her nose.

She tried again at the next door, speaking more quickly. “Do you know a Dormas? Or a black cat that looks like me?”

“Dormas is ill and wants no visitors,” a deer said, pushing Catia away with his antlers.

She was getting close.

Gusts of wind rustled the dry leaves covering the stone tiles. The flame in a glass lantern flickered twice, like a last breath, then went out. She stood in complete darkness, surrounded by scary sounds.

At the next door she tried a new tactic. It had to succeed, for her headache made her ears beep and her vision flash.

“I’ve heard … witches live here.”

When she looked up, her eyes met those of the black cat. Stumbling footsteps sounded in the hallway behind her.

“Felicia?” a voice called. “Come. Help. Dormas is heavy. He has to be at the hospital tonight!”

Felicia’s breathing sped up. “Witches? Witches? What are you talking about? Are you a witch?”

“Please,” Catia said, advancing to her doorstep. “You know more about illnesses, don’t you? Or you know someone who—”

Felicia pushed her away forcefully. Then she stepped outside herself.

“Go away, witch!” she yelled. Loud enough for the other animals to hear, as they tried carrying a snoring Dormas.

But then she whispered: “Hide yourself! Meet me later underneath the red tree next to the river. Quick!”

The others stepped outside. Catia meowed softly. With painful jabs in her body, she rolled backward and ended behind a wooden barrel.

“Told you,” the fox said. She looked in the barrel’s general direction, but didn’t see Catia. “This place swarms with nasty witches. Did you get a good look? We must tell the crows!”

“Erm, no, no, she wore black robes. And a black, wide, pointy hat that covered her eyes.”

“Yes, that is exactly what a with would do!”

As they made haste, bringing Dormas to the hospital, Catia fainted from the pain.