(A/N I'm finally done with this chapter! Yaay!)

Chapter 7: Sick

Cashmére had just settled down at her favourite chair, when someone knocked at the door. She smiled to herself and jumped up. Odale hadn't told her to she would visit that day, too. But the smile faded quickly when she opend the door.
"Cashmére." Marcia gasped.
"Marcia." Cashmére said coldly, "What are you doing here?"
"Something horrable has happened." Marcia replied.
"What?" Cashmére exclaimed, "Is Odale alright?"
"I'm so, so sorry Cashmére-"
"Spit it out!" Cashmére hissed.
"Odale is sick."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"You can't be serious."
"Cashmére, I would never joke about such a thing." Marca said seriousley.
"No..." Cashmére got pale.
"I'm sorry, Cashmére." Marcia said and (yes, infact) laid a hand at Cashmére's shoulder.
"How?" Cashmére whispered, "How?"
Marcia sighed. "I don't really know, Cashmére. We maybe should always sit down and-"
"No!" Cashmére said, "I got to go to her. Now. Where is she?"
"The Sick Bay." Marcia replied.
"I got to go." Cashmére snatched her burgundy coloured cloak. "Valete, Marcia."

(A/N) Valete means 'goodbye'. But don't stop reading! The chapter continues...)

Septimus had reluctantly followed Marcellus to a huge golden arch. He notived that the old man's hands trembled, as they picked out a golden disc.
"This, my apprentice, is the key." Marcelus said, as he pushed the key into a matching cavity. "And it's the only one."
A door opend and revealed a deep, mirror-like, darknesse. Septimus stared at it, without knowing what it was. But there- in the darknesse- Septimus suddenly saw a young man. The man had curly, brown hair. His nose was slightly too big, and he worse a red and black robe with gold embrodery. The young man had a shocked expression, but his eyes suggested expectation. Marcellus gazed at the younger himself one last time, but then he pushed Septimus into the darknesse. The golden-doors closed quietly.

"Odale!" Cashmére gasped horrified, as she saw her daughter. Merrin, who was half-slumbering in a chair beside Odale's bed, jumped up.
"Huh?" he mumbled.
"Who are you?" Cashmére asked.
"Odale's... friend." Merrin replied, hestitating. Cashmére raised her eyebrows.
"Oh?" she said, "How nice. How long have you been friends?"
"I... Uh, depends on how you see it." Merrin replied. Cashmére opend her mouth, but closed it again.
"M-mother?" Odale whispered.
"Amica!" Cashmére exclaimed, and hugged Odale.
"What are you doing here?" Odale asked suspiciousley.
"Marcia came by and told me where you were... are." Cashmére replied. Odale groaned.
"Mother, I'm fine. I promise." Odale said.
"Odale, no. You're not." Merrin answerd. Odale did a grimace that said that he should get out of the argument. Merrin didn't listen.
"You do have the symptoms, Odale." Marcia said, as she popped up from nowhere. Cashmére took Odale's hand in to hers, and caressed it.
"But of cours, there's a cure..." Cashmére said, and glanced at Marcia. Marcia shook her head.
"No." Marcia's voice trailed of, "No, there isn't."
Cashmére got pale. "There has to be something!" Cashmére said, "It has to!"
"Cashmére, I have already told you; there isn't anything I can do! No one can help her!" Marcia shouted.
"You're a wizard for heavens sake!" Cashmére cried, "You have to be able to do something!"
"It's not that easy!" Marcia snapped, "It's not just waving your hands and wait for something to happen!"
Odale groaned one last time, then she became unconscious . Her mother wailed and burried her head in her hands.
"I never should've left her there in the snow." she sobbed.
"You're right. You shouldn't have done that." Marcia said coldly, "But what didn't I tell you?"
"I had no choice!"
"Of course you had! You could've let the guards take her with them. Then she would've been warm and not raised by a necromancer." Marcia snapped.
"I thougt that she would die-" Cashmére protested, but Marcia cut her of.
"That was a great excuse." she hissed. Odale groaned again and twitched in pain.
"I promise, I've never done that!" she cried out, "Please stop it! Someone make it stop! Please."
"It's okay amica, it's okay." Cashmére whispered, and hugged Odale tightly. "Mum's here, mum's here..."
"It hurts!" Odale wailed.
"Is this normal symptoms?" Cashmére asked Marcia, as she did her best to try to comfort Odale.
"No." Marcia replied, "It isn't."
Merrin stood beside the others and felt impotent. He had never seen Odale so... so fragile, and he didn't like it at all. Odale had never been fragile close to him before. Marcia looked at a kronometer.
"I got to go." she said. Cashmére nodded quietly. Hestitating, Marcia left the room and the sick bay.

(A/N And that was the end of the chapter. Here's a poem!

It wasn't what she was expected,
Not even close.
But who could possibly have given her a warning?
She would never even be able to back down,
Because what would They say?

And even if she tried,
Would she able to run,
To hide,
To look herself inside?

She wouldn't be able to it once she had been figured out.