The Wizard’s Headache

By Susan Lyttek

Attn: Wizard Mark Fennel

Magical Medical

Outgoing private comm records from Royal Wizard Greg Zaks

2.1.11

The headaches are back.

I know you diagnosed tension, but I’m convinced it’s something more. I can hear you saying, “They started when Flora disappeared. You have no prior history.” But they’ve lasted months. Should they be reoccurring if they’re caused by heartbreak? Maybe your catnip potion simply eased the agony?

2.2.11

Today, the pain was so bad that I passed out.

When I came to, the word Hi was scrawled across my notes in big, childlike letters.

Can headaches make you do that?

I think the king found my nervousness off-putting for the rest of the day. But this isn’t something I can discuss with him. It’s so ridiculous that I can barely write to you about it.

Recommendations?

2.5.11

I appreciate you taking your valuable time to respond. Come on, don’t you know me better than that? We were roommates for how long?

In answer to your first question, no, I didn’t imagine the word, dream it, or write it in my sleep. The day I last wrote, the word hello appeared. After that, read! Each time, the handwriting improves ever-so-slightly.

Is someone knocking me out just to write these messages?

I tried drinking a ton of coffee to stay awake, but no. I felt this purring rumble at the back of my neck, and my head instantly dropped onto a pile of papers.

On another note, I don’t know why you thought treaty arrangements with Arvad required magic. Logic resolved everything. Last year’s drought thinned their herds, but intensified their delicious vintage. Just needed to encourage the king to offer our some of our breeding stock for their wine. Battle averted.

Speaking of wine, the bottle you sent did not pass security. Not sure why.

2.7.11

I tried your new remedy. It made me so sick my whole body convulsed like Flora’s cat when it had a hairball. Even if you swear it will stop my headaches, I won’t repeat that willingly. The spasms were ungodly, and I’m guessing they made me look ill because the king told me to go rest.

But that didn’t halt the daily word, save, written in fuchsia this time. Same color as Flora’s lips.

2.9.11

This has got to stop. You sure you don’t have any ideas?

I found myself unconscious FIVE times yesterday. Each time I came to, there was one more word. The first three were ask me question. Then ask, repeated. Honest to God, it looked like Flora’s writing.

Unsure what to do, I asked the question you told me to forget.

Whatever happened to Flora?

The final word: me.

Coincidence? I’m going to devote every spare minute to seeing if I can figure this out. Is she nearby, communicating somehow?

2.10.11

I know you say Flora’s gone, but everything makes sense if I’m under her influence. The political stuff was always her thing. It didn’t get easier for me until after the headaches began.

On your other note, no, I am not going to advocate that the king declare war on Arvad over the missing wine shipment. I’m convinced that their delegate is telling the truth. Not only that, but some of our own intelligence says… Sorry, you’re medical. Can’t share.

2.11.11

No, I’m not going mad. And no, I’m not telling the king. Whyever would I? I’m his advisor—not the other way around.

Truthfully, politics are as easy as Flora claimed. Not certain why they seemed so complicated in school.

Why do you say we need a war? The treaties are all working just fine.

2.12.11

Someone from medical informed King Harold about my messages. They said my headaches and the messages were proof of diminished capacity.

Why? I thought we were friends.

2.13.11

No, you’re not acting for my good. House arrest instead of advising the king? Without my voice of moderation, you may well get the war you want.

2.14.11

Of course, there have been more messages. Why on earth would I share them with you?

Let me say there are advantages to being alone. Peace and quiet have allowed me to, shall we say, contemplate certain issues. I may find out if the headaches are tied to the messages soon. I just need some catnip tea.

2.15.11

I’ve been so blind. How long did you plan this?

I thought you were happy for me and Flora. But you were jealous, weren’t you? She’s a princess of Arvad, hence your war obsession.

The handwriting is Flora’s, without doubt. I just have to stay awake to figure out how. Be assured, I will get her back.

Your wine delivery was blocked again. Dogsbane poison, really?

2.15.11 (afternoon)

Eureka! Delayed awakening spell.

2.16.11

Hello, darling. Greg is letting me write.

No, he hasn’t undone your curse. I am still microscopic.

But now that he knows my location, the headaches will cease. We can communicate better than ever. Now if you had bound me to you, that would be another story.

The words of your curse were not quite specific enough. You tied me and Puss to his brain, yes. You made us feed off of him, yes. But you forgot a couple things, for all your medical training.

What, you ask?

• I was always and will always be better at magic than you. Even tiny, I found a way to work against your spells.
• From here, I have been able to help my love in ways you can’t even dream. It’s called symbiosis, darling.
• Cats have a magic of their own. You should have taken Puss away before casting the spell.

And someday, with my magical logic, Puss’ innate abilities, and Greg’s brains, we will undo what you did. Count on it.

I wrote to Daddy explaining what you did. He knows my handwriting.

By now, king’s officers are surely outside your door, ready to escort you someplace private.

Ta-ta!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Susan A. J. Lyttek, author of five novels, award-winning writer, blogger, wife and mother to two homeschool graduates has temporarily given up job-hunting and instead spends her days tutoring over Zoom and writing the strangest tales she can. Learn more at her website.

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