A Fairy Out of Her Tale - Dear Diary - 57. Scene 57

23rd January 1995

Dear Diary of Fishy Tales,

That last knocking was Unn. As good as it was to see her moving about again, I can't not be annoyed at her sense of timing.

Anyway, Unn is now able to get out of her swimming pool bed. The spell she needs still hasn't been replaced, but as she explained, 'I don't get nearly as dizzy with air currents as I do with water currents, so being in this water tank is actually more comfortable.'

And before you question her logic, I did ask her why she didn't get in her water tank from the beginning if it was so much better. She took my question as well as you could expect: like a personal insult.

'You think I didn't try? That time you saw me on my bed trying not to vomit on your face was as far "out of the water" as I could get then. I was too dizzy to even try to move on to the tank. I had to wait until the world was spinning just a little less before I could safely do the transfer, or I could get seriously hurt.' She glared daggers at me. 'Then, again, it's not like you understand how complicated those things are.'

I bit my tongue. It took a loooooot of effort, but I bit my tongue. Of course I didn't understand! I didn't even know merepeople could live outside the water until I met her! If only she was a little more understanding...

That said, she's the one who's been sick for ages, having a miserable time while I was having all sorts of fun with my girlfriend. In her place I would be grumpy too. Maybe I should cut her some slack this time. But only this time.

'Has Lóránt found someone who can help you already?'

'Yes. That's why I came to call you. A demon-doctor-spellcaster of some sort will be here soon. It's up to you if you want to hide or watch her do whatever it is that she'll do to me.'

'I can watch? Don't you want privacy for something like that?' Not that I wanted to watch, but still...

'If it's anything like last time, she won't even touch me directly. I don't understand why I would need privacy?' Unn shrugged. The movement seemed to have a more dramatic effect than intended, though, because she swayed a little and ended up grabbing my shirt to stabilise herself. 'Sorry.' She let her forehead rest against my chest. As annoyed as I was, I didn't have the heart to move her away. 'I really hope the demon can sort this out. I can't stand the dizziness anymore.'

'Is there a chance it won't work?'

'I'm here, ain't I? You never know with demons. One day they are on your side, the next they're binding you to their will and using your family as bargaining chips.'

Was that what happened to her, then? I shouldn't ask more details, at least not while she looked so frail, holding on to me like I was the only thing keeping her steady (which I probably was, but still...) 'Are you scared?'

'Scared of everything going to shit? Probably.'

'You'll be fine. Lóránt will be there too, right? They won't let anything happen to you.'

'Can you be there too?'

'Sure, if you want me.' I didn't really want to, but I didn't want to be the kind of person who turns their back on someone who obviously needed help. 'When is that demon coming?'

'Lóránt said she'll be here in an hour.'

And that, Dear Diary, is how I was drafted into witnessing a spell-casting session by a fully grown, obviously powerful demon. The one hour Unn gave me is almost up (she's back in her room with Lóránt preparing to receive the demon). I have no idea what is about to happen.

If you don't hear back from me by tomorrow morning, assume the worst.