No caffeine." Lauren sat down, watching her steadily. "We can send you back home as soon as you're ready."
Something akin to hellfire seared Beth's veins. "I can walk."
"Not from here, you can't." Lauren's voice was still gentle, but something firmer reached out from her mind. "I'll come with you. It will be the same cold sensation as before, and then you'll be sitting back at your desk. I'll be beside you the whole time. Hold my hand if it will help you stay oriented."
"I have Asperger's." She never told people that. Beth could hear herself talking through a cloud of fog. "Touch isn't usually comforting."
"Then just know that I'm beside you." Lauren's voice took on a stern edge. "Now, Nell."
The strange tingling hit. Beth felt her throat close - and then she felt Lauren's mind, pushing hard on hers. You're okay. Just a moment more.
The feel of her office chair under her legs sliced relief through Beth's terror. Not daring to move, she strained her senses, praying for the familiar sounds and smells of home.
The vanilla hit her first - Liri's favorite candles at this time of year.
Her head swam again, even as her ears kept seeking.
The grinding ebb and flow of traffic on the street down below, slush and salt grit under their tires. The faint notes of Ukrainian Christmas carols from sweet Mrs. Andriychuk next door.
Home. Like a child waking up from a nightmare, Beth reached for her keyboard, clutching its familiar shape.
She was home.
And now, alone in the womb of the familiar, she could let the leash snap.
Eyes still squeezed tightly shut, Beth crawled the few feet into the corner of her office. Pulled up her knees to her chest. And rocked. Back and forth, back and forth, a slow, monotone humming the only sound she had the strength left to make.
Home.
-o0o-
Oh, holy God - what had they done? Lauren watched Beth's rocking in horror and wondered what the hell she was supposed to do next.
The rocking, she could handle. Barely. Enough time in the Center had taught her that it was a strange, but effective, coping mechanism. It was the incoherent pelting of Beth's mind she was desperate to stop.
Except Beth thought she was alone.
A fearsome presence bolted into the room, mind attacking like a dagger. "What have you done to her?" A woman dressed in deep blue velvet lunged to Beth's side, her low-pitched crooning blending with the rocking monotone cry.
The face was familiar. And the mind. Lauren dug for a name. Liriel. I'm Lauren. We visited your coven once.
I know who you are. Our shop is just below - I heard her mind screaming. The reply was short, terse, and furious. I assume you have enough power to hear me. What in the name of the Goddess have you done to her?
We transported her. Lauren winced at her own words. It was an accident. Magic run very badly amuck.
You what?
There wasn't time to explain the impossible. She got caught in a spell by accident. Please trust that we haven't hurt her physically, but it was a pretty traumatic experience. She has Asperger's?
Liriel's eyes shot up. She told you that?
Lauren tried to assemble what had happened, along with what she knew of high-functioning autism. Too many faces. We couldn't reach her fast enough to help with the panic. So I brought her home.
Okay. The dagger edge muted. Most people wouldn't have known she was panicking. Thank you. Liriel was still crooning, and she had Beth's hands in hers.
They hardly deserved thanks. How else can I help?
Her words were ignored. Lauren could feel Liriel readying, reaching out to Beth's mind. Shaking.
Wordlessly, Lauren offered strength. Stability for a mind witch pushing to the very edges of her power.
Liriel took it, her magic entirely focused on the woman in her arms.
Her partner. They loved each other. The obvious hit Lauren square between the eyes. She'd missed that, twenty months ago.
You wouldn't be the first. A touch of humor hit Liriel's mind, quickly followed by concern. She decoupled from the mental assistance. You need to go now.
Beth's mind was starting to reshape, and her whole body was trembling.