Young Writers Society

Finnley hurled himself to his feet when he heard the door to the shop opening. Henry stood up too, but Finnley had left the battered couch behind and was pounding towards the stairs. He stopped on the sixth one down, like a bird ready for flight. The scene laid out beneath him made something inside of him hum with happiness.

“Mom!” he cried, spotting her just inside, and when she looked at him with brown eyes that mirrored his own relief, he sprang down the rest of the stairs and wrapped her in a hug. She held him tightly, pressing her cheek to the side of his face. It was slightly damp from tears, but he didn’t mind. Finnley could remember the times when she would rest her chin on top of his head with a little smile — he was taller than she was now. How long had it been since they’d last hugged?

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he added, “I don’t know what I would do without you.” He surprised himself with the words. He hadn’t known they were true until he said them out loud. Suddenly his throat felt very dry. His mom squeezed him tightly and then pulled back, looking him up and down before returning her eyes to his face.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” she replied, and Finnley saw that her worry had been just as strong as his own; it was still etched onto her face. He could only nod; he hadn’t thought — well, she had seemed like the one in danger. The one who might not come back. Now, knowing — not just seeing, but knowing — that his mother was alright, there was someone else he needed to check on. His focus slowly expanded to include the rest of the room and see Mr. Vaughn standing at his mother’s side, with Henry crossing the room toward them.

“Where’s Mia?” he asked. If his mother was fine, then where was his friend? He looked between Henry and Mr. Vaughn, practically daring them to say that she wasn’t okay. She had to be okay.

“She’s alright, Finnley,” Mr. Vaughn reassured him. “We dropped her off at home with Fred. She’s sleeping. She only had a few minor burns, but… it’ll take a while to recover. I’m sure they have a lot to talk about between them.” He caught sight of Finnley’s face and added, as a precaution, “It may be best not to come over for a while. They have plenty of things to work out.”

Finnley nodded again, beginning to feel like a bobblehead. He understood what Mr. Vaughn, but couldn’t quite process the scope of it. They were safe. His mom was back. Mia would need time to recover — how much time would it last? The past weeks had born witness to how much Mia had been through, how much she had already changed. It was so much that Finnley feared what recovery might take. Feared that Mia might not still be herself by the end of it.

He pressed forward. There was one thing left he needed to know before he could let the tension slide from his shoulders. “And… the nightmare horse. Is it gone?”

“Yes. We’ve destroyed its magical influence and returned it to its proper state. All is as it should be,” Mr. Vaughn informed Finnley and his mother. This made very little sense to Finnley, but it was enough of a confirmation, and he lacked the energy to ask more questions that day. Finnley’s mom seemed to feel her son’s exhaustion and gently took him by the shoulder.

“We’re going home,” she announced. “Finnley’s going to need a day off after everything. We’re going to put his magical training on hold until I know the full extent of what we’re getting into. The little spells he’s been doing seem fine, but it seems that dangers come with the magic. I want no part of it until we know what connects everything going on.” She met Mr. Vaughn’s eyes with a less-than-pleasant stare, but he nodded respectfully in return. Something about the gesture was weary as well.

“Take care,” Henry called after them, and Finnley could’ve sworn he winked as they walked out.

They exited the shop, and Finnley was startled to see that night was falling. The late evening shadows stretched ever longer as he and his mother made their way home. “I was so scared,” his mom began, “when I saw that horse going after you two on the motorcycle. That thing… it was so, so fast. But I had to get Mia out of there.”

“I wanted to go back for you, but Monica was driving,” he replied with a little humorless laugh. “We managed to stay ahead of the thing, and lost it at the ravine. We headed straight for the shop after that and Mr. Vaughn went out after the nightmare creature.”

“She’s… Monica’s gone, then?” his mom replied. Just one look at Finnley’s face must have been enough confirm it because she sighed in sympathy. “I’m sure she’ll be back as soon as she can, Finnley.”

“I know,” he said quietly. It felt petty to be upset with Monica for leaving him. For being dead. “I just… I didn’t know if you were alright, or if Mia was alright, and then Monica left… and it was just like losing everyone I love at once. I didn’t know what to do.”

Finnley felt tears gathering in his eyes, but they refused to fall. His mom took his hand and squeezed it lightly and he squeezed it back. Neither of them spoke for the rest of the walk.

When they reached their home, Finnley had never heard such a welcome sound as the front door creaking open. He wanted to go straight to bed, to sleep off all the pain and terror of the day, of even the last few weeks with Mia falling to pieces, but his mother was here. She was safe and sound and not working the evening away. “How about I order in some dinner?” he suggested, “Then we can talk a little. About — about all of this.”

When his mother smiled, her face was full of gratitude, of relief. They’d both been through a lot. Finnley ordered some Chinese takeout, then made for the shower to get the stench of smoke out of his skin. He turned his face up to the stream of warm water and scrubbed himself with soap until he felt like a new peron.