Post by StoryGirl83 on Aug 27, 2008 19:20:36 GMT -5
Chapter Six – Teaspoon or Tablespoon
Upstairs Chris was standing in front of the Book.
Wyatt was carrying some vials from the shelves to a table set up near the couch. “Isn’t garlic a cooking supply?” Wyatt asked curiously looking at the Book.
“So you were listening when Mom told us about potion ingredients,” Chris commented with a chuckle.
Wyatt shrugged it off. “Without our powers Mom figured it was about the only thing that would protect us, that and orbing, and running from a fight is not to my liking.”
Chris chuckled as he went down the list with his finger. “Well, it says we need garlic, so I’ll go down and see if we have any in the kitchen.”
“Our mom is a cook,” Wyatt reminded him with a scoffing sound. “What do you think?”
Chris grinned at him. “I think I should send you, so that we get the right measurements into the potion.”
“Hey!” Wyatt protested immediately. “I resent that remark. I can measure just as good as the next guy.”
“Right,” Chris looked at him skeptically. “I’m sure that is so true. Will there be an attic when I return?”
Wyatt scowled at him. “That was once and I was only eight. How was I to know those would react so violently?”
Got you, Chris thought as he responded without missing a beat. “Well, maybe if you’d paid more attention to Mom’s lessons, you might have learned that. I’m sure it was covered.”
Wyatt looked up at him suspiciously. “Do you remember that or did I just walk into that?” As Chris grin widened, Wyatt groaned. “I can’t believe I fell for that.”
“I can,” Chris told him easily. “Now, can I trust you to put the right amounts of those ingredients in the potion? It will only take a minute to find the garlic.”
Wyatt picked up one of the measuring spoons and looked at it. “One teaspoon of . . .”
Chris rolled his eyes and sighed before interrupting. “That, my dear brother, is a tablespoon. You get the garlic. I’ll work on the potion.”
Wyatt scowled at him as Chris headed toward the table. With a harrumph Wyatt orbed out of the room and into the kitchen. He walked over to the cupboards and reached his hand up to open the doors. A chill ran up and down his spine, causing him to drop his hands to his side and turn around. He looked around the room, frowning. After a moment he shrugged and turned back to face the cupboards. He opened doors and started looking through the cupboard. Not finding the garlic, he closed the cupboard doors and went to the next cupboard. This time he actually found spices. As he looked he mumbled to himself. “Let’s see. Cayenne Pepper, Dill Weed . . . there it is. Garlic.” Wyatt pulled out the small cylinder and closed the cupboard. With one more frowning glance behind him, he orbed back out of the room.
Chris was spooning some sort of black powder into the potion as Wyatt orbed back into the attic. He looked up as Wyatt orbed into the room. “Did you find it?”
Wyatt held out the container. “Right here.” Wyatt looked down at the container in his hand and it orbed onto the table next to Chris.
Chris looked up frowning. “Quit playing. This is serious.”
“I am well aware of that,” Wyatt informed him, “but I need to practice.”
Chris gave him a looked. “I think you have a handle on your powers, Wy.”
“Maybe the ones I know about,” Wyatt retorted. “Did you know I have telekinesis?”
Chris sighed. He opened up the contained of garlic and started measuring. The only indication that he heard his brother was the increasing tension in his body.
“Chris?” Wyatt questioned, suddenly worried.
“Bad memory,” Chris stated, brushing it off. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Hey, I’m the older brother here. What is bothering you, Chris?”
Chris didn’t reply at first. Then he looked at Wyatt, a mask of indifference on his face. “It’s something from the other timeline. Don’t worry about it.”
“It bothers you,” Wyatt said cautiously. “Please tell me why?”
“We have a demon to vanquish,” Chris reminded him, trying once more to change the subject.
“I’m serious. He’s gonna be different. Good. He’s not gonna remember he wasn’t. So if you really want to change the future, you gotta start with a clean slate.”
Good plan except for the part where Wyatt wasn’t going along with it.
“Christopher Perry Halliwell!” Wyatt exclaimed exasperated. “What did I do to you?”
Chris’ shoulders drew up as he drew in a ragged breath and then they just sagged. “You tried to kill me.” Chris looked down at the Book, not wanting to see Wyatt’s reaction, and checked the ingredients list once more.
Wyatt stood completely still looking at his little brother. There was a stunned look on his face. “I tried to kill you? You are my brother. Why would I try to kill you?”
Chris looked at the confused look on Wyatt’s face. “I don’t know. You had been turned evil. You tried for years before that to change me to the side of evil as well. I don’t think you wanted me dead, but when I went to the past to stop whatever turned you evil, I became more than just a threat. I became the main threat, perhaps the only real threat. You are good now. I died to make sure you were good and then I almost died, again.”
“When I found you on Saturday, it was because of that, wasn’t it?”
Chris nodded.
“And this is what you didn’t want to talk about on Saturday, isn’t it?”
Chris nodded a second time.
“I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t you, not exactly and it isn’t who you are, so I didn’t see any point in bothering you about it.”
Wyatt walked over to the table and stood next to Chris. “Bother me all you want. You’re me little brother. Little brothers are made specifically to bother older brothers, so it’s in your job description.”
Chris looked at him and smiled. The smile lasted only a moment before a serious mask replaced it. “Now, that you know, can we get onto vanquishing this demon?”
Wyatt looked over at Hannah lying on the bed. “I am more than ready.”
Chris poured in a tablespoon of garlic. A cloud of spoke appeared and dissipated. “Good, because this potion is ready. Why don’t you find the summoning spell while I put this in a vial?”
Wyatt walked over to the podium holding the Book of Shadows and looked at the open page discussing the Soul Thieves.
Chris picked up a vial and started putting some of the potion into it.
“It needs a little reworking,” Wyatt commented as he silently read the spell. “This one is written for Firen. Also it says that in order for it to work you have to either be touching a living victim or have made physical contact with the demon yourself.”
Chris corked the vial and brought it over to the podium, stopping to stand next to his brother. “No problem, then. You shook hands with Trae. She must not have known that you were a witch when she shook you hand. Does it mention how they choose their victims other than the whole physical strength tempered by a slight weakness.”
Wyatt looked down at Hannah. “How does Hannah qualify as physical strength. She’s healthy other than a broken leg, but I don’t think she’s strong.”
“Well, then maybe it’s physical health. Does the Book say anything useful on how they select victims?”
Wyatt searched the page, but found nothing. He looked at his brother and shook his head. “Sorry nothing here.”
“Figures,” Chris said with a slight shake of his head. “I guess it doesn’t matter since we are going to vanquish her. You want to rewrite the summon spell or should I?”
“I can do it,” Wyatt informed him. “You made the potion. Besides she’s my innocent.”
It was so unexpected a claim that Chris couldn’t keep himself from laughing, just a little. “We claim ownership of innocents?”
Wyatt made a face at him. “Be quiet. You know what I mean.”
Chris just shrugged, laughter still in his voice as he said, “Yeah. Whatever.” Chris walked the few steps to the couch and squatted down putting the back of his hand against Hannah’s forehead. The thing about having an attentive mortal dad with medical training was that you learned medical stuff, and this was just common sense stuff. Chris couldn’t really remember anything very specific about his dad teaching him, but he felt a smile tug at his lips as he thought of him. Eventually Chris would remember. Eventually, but not yet.
Behind him Wyatt orbed a paper and pen into his hands and started writing on it.
“Her temperature seems to be at least close to normal,” Chris informed him without looking behind him.
“Probably because she wasn’t fully affected,” Wyatt commented, “and Trae needs to keep her victims alive until she has all thirteen.”
“Maybe,” Chris conceded cautiously.
“It’s not like you to doubt my word,” Wyatt told him acting wounded.
Chris looked at Wyatt and rolled his eyes. “I may not remember everything from either time line, but, Wy, I do know that it is very like me to doubt many things you say in either. Besides you were only guessing. You have anything yet?”
“Writing a spell isn’t something to be rushed,” Wyatt informed him with a superior voice.
Chris avoided the temptation to roll his eyes again. “Wy, you have a spell to start from. All you have to do is modify it to fit Trae.”
“Quit talking so I can concentrate.” Wyatt crossed something off the paper and started writing, again. After a moment he looked over at Chris. “Got it.”
Chris stood and walked over to him. “Good.”
Wyatt walked away from the podium and over to a box by one of the walls. He opened it up and pulled out some large crystals.
Chris walked over and helped him set the crystals in a circle.
“That should hold her just in case something goes wrong.”
Chris chuckled. “Kind of helps with the spell, too, since she’s supposed to end up in the midst of them.”
“That, too,” Wyatt agreed easily. “Let’s go summon her.”
Chris nodded and they walked over to the podium.