Warped (Maurissa Guibord)

in his nostrils let out a low, monotonous hiss as a TV flickered soundlessly on the wall. And over everything hung the antiseptic smell of the hospital, faintly chemical, metallic. To Tessa, it smelled like pain. Or something worse.
    "Dad?"
    Her father opened his eyes. "Hi, cupcake," he said in a hoarse voice. He cleared his throat and pushed himself more upright in the hospital bed. He smiled, and his dry lips looked as if they might crack.
    "Dad." Tessa bent her head and leaned it gently against the crook of her father's arm. "I'm so sorry. About everything."
    "It's okay," he said. "None of that matters."
    "Are you--Does it hurt?" Tessa asked.
    He shook his head. "Naw. I'm just tired. Feel like I've been kicked all over. But I'm glad they know what's causing it. Probably should have come in sooner." He took a deep breath. "Guess I haven't been paying much attention to anything lately. Including you." He patted Tessa's arm.
    "That's not true," Tessa said, closing her eyes.
    He pulled her a little closer until their heads touched. "Alicia and I ...," he began. "I was going to tell you before this happened. We were going to get married."
    Tessa kept her head down and nodded. She couldn't look at him and not cry.
    "Maybe it seems sudden to you. But sometimes, you just feel it," he said. "When everything is right."
    "I know," she whispered. "She makes you happy."
    "Yeah. She does. Now, I know Alicia is"--he began slowly--"not the most motherly type." He gave a weak version of his old familiar grin.
    Tessa gently shook his middle. "Who needs that crap anyway?" she said, nearly breathless from trying to sound normal when she really wanted to sob.
    Her father gave a dry rasp of laughter. "Right. I forgot. Miss Independent." He let out a deep sigh. "But now this . Guess we'll put wedding plans on hold for a little while."
    Tessa shook her head. "This is all my fault."
    Her father let out a faint huff of exasperation and put his other hand on her head. He ruffled her hair. "Don't be silly. This has nothing to do with you, Tessa. I'm gonna be okay." He sounded out of breath and leaned back as if the words had taken what little energy he had left. "These folks. Deal with this stuff. All the time."
    No, not this kind of stuff , Tessa thought. But she nodded in agreement.
    He gave her a smile. "I'll take a nap, I think, for a little while."
    "Okay," she whispered, and smiled back as hot tears started to roll down her cheeks.
    "Store's closed," her father said, shutting his eyes. "Alicia'll look in on the contractors for me. Why don't you stay with Opal for a few days? I don't want you to be alone."
    "Yeah. Okay." How could she tell him that she and Opal weren't even friends anymore? That her whole world was unraveling around her? Instead, she said, "I love you, Dad."
    "I love you too, Tessa." His eyes were still closed. He looked exhausted.
    Dr. Robard stood outside the door when Tessa came out. "Rest assured, we're going to do everything we can," he told her. Even though it sounded like something he had memorized in medical school, it would have comforted Tessa under normal circumstances.
    "Thanks," said Tessa. She wiped her eyes once more and nodded, looking straight ahead. "So am I."

Chapter 35

Tessa went into the bathroom, slammed the door so hard it shook, and snapped off the light. She wasn't afraid anymore. To hell with that. How could she be afraid? There was nothing more she could lose. Her anger felt like lightning trapped inside her. She wanted to strike.
    "All right," she said, her voice vibrating with fury. "Come out of there. Let me see you."
    Slowly the iridescent light shimmered around the edge of the mirror and the three hooded figures appeared. Scytha spoke:
    "Mortal, you summon us and yet you have not returned the threads, despite the measures we've taken. Surely you can see that your life is in our hands."
    "Shut up." Tessa bit the words out between gritted teeth. "I know what you've done. You've made my father ..." She stopped, fending off a sob. She would not cry. There was no time. "You made my father sick," she went on. "You've turned Opal against me. Everything is twisted around. You've warped my whole life."
    Weavyr raised her dark hands. "We warned you that if you did not return the threads, the consequences would be dire." She sounded almost regretful, as if she were disciplining a small child. "The lost threads must be returned to us," she went on. "They must take their rightful place on the Wyrd