Free Tris & Izzie by Mette Ivie Harrison

too. Can you tell me what happened?” She looked behind her and then whispered, “You can tell me the truth, Izzie. Even if there’s magic.”
    â€œDog,” I said. “Two-headed. Speaking.”
    â€œTwo-headed. It was probably a slurg, then. What did it say?”
    â€œKill me,” I said to Mom, desperately holding on to her arm. “Said it wanted to kill me, kill magic.”
    â€œCan you tell me anything else about it?” Mom asked.
    â€œBlack,” I said. “Shiny. Strong.”
    â€œHow big?”
    I tried to lift my hand, but it moved only a little. “Uh— chest high,” I said.
    â€œI understand,” Mom said.
    Then I was being lifted into the ambulance. I could hear something beeping every few seconds, and I thought Tristan must be lying next to me. He was still alive. He was going to make it.
    â€œWe’ll get you to the hospital,” said an EMT.
    â€œJust a moment. I need to talk to her first,” said Mom. “She’s my daughter.” There was a pause. “Privately,” she added.
    The EMT moved away. Then my mom was between me and Tristan, a hand on each of us. “Izzie, concentrate,” she said. “You are burning up. Do you know why? Did you try to use magic?”
    I shook my head from side to side, unwilling to admit even then that I had stolen her love philtre.
    â€œAre you sure? I need to know, Izzie.”
    I hesitated. “Potion,” I finally said.
    â€œYou took a potion?” Mom asked.
    I nodded.
    â€œFrom home? One of mine?”
    I nodded again.
    â€œWell, nothing I have in the house could have caused this response. It has to be something else. We’ll have to figure it out later, after you’re safe,” Mom said. “Listen, Izzie, I’m going to give you and Tristan a healing potion. It will taste terrible, but you have to drink it all. Do you understand?”
    â€œUh-huh,” I muttered.
    â€œAnd one other thing,” said Mom. “I need you to spit in Tristan’s potion. And think about him getting better. Think it hard.”
    â€œWhuh?” I said.
    â€œI can explain everything later, but I need you to do this now. It will save his life, Izzie, if it can be saved.”
    It made no sense to me. I wasn’t a witch, and I’d never seen Mom spit in her potions to make them more powerful. But I’d save my questions for later.
    â€œSpit,” said Mom.
    I spat into the bottle she held to my mouth. I saw a flash of fire, but it disappeared so quickly I wondered if I had imagined it.
    Mom certainly didn’t say anything about it. She swirled the potion around, then tried to dribble it into Tristan’s mouth.
    He choked and spat it back up.
    â€œIt will help you,” said Mom urgently. “I’m a witch. Tristan, listen to me.” She tried to pour it in, but he spat it up again reflexively.
    â€œIzzie, you’ve got to get him to take this. He’s slipping fast. Any other human would be dead from a slurg bite. I don’t know why he’s survived as long as he has already. You’re his friend, right?”
    â€œYes,” I said. I was his friend, and more.
    â€œThen you’ve got to get him to listen to you.”
    I tried to lift myself up on one elbow, but it was hard. I felt like I had suddenly turned into an elephant but had only a mouse’s portion of strength. I would do anything for Tristan, though, even drag my elephant self over to his stretcher and lean close to his ear.
    â€œTristan,” I said. “It’s Izzie. Nod your head if you can hear me.”
    He nodded very slightly and groaned.
    â€œYou’re sick, Tristan. That dog poisoned you with his bite. You’ve got to drink something to make you better. Do you trust me?”
    â€œIsol—” He tried to get my name out, but he was drifting in and out of consciousness.
    â€œTristan, listen to me,” I said as loudly as