A Green Magic

by Alix Hadden

  "I'm okay," she insisted, but her voice was still thin and shaking, and she was clutching her forearm to her as though she didn't dare look at it.

  "My arse you're okay," Kir said. "Let me see. What happened? What's wrong? Leg? Arm?"

  "My ankle's just -- I dunno. Might be sprained. Might be broken, I suppose, but I don't think it's that bad. I just tripped, when that thing came at me..." She took a gulping breath. "If I get home I can strap it up, and if it's still bad in the morning I can go to A&E."

  "Your arm, then," Kir said, choosing not to argue with her. Minor injuries -- well, yes, he could see why she was being dismissive. But the arm.

  Ali shut her eyes and swallowed. "I don't know. Can you look?"

  She held it out for him to look at without opening her eyes.

  It looked like she'd been attacked with something like acid; dark red spatters across most of her arm, and a central area that was eaten away, down through skin and muscle to -- Kir swallowed in turn -- what looked like the white of bone showing right down in the centre.

  "Hey," he said, gently. "It's not looking great, but -- it's still there, Ali, we can sort it out, okay?"

  She took a long breath in, opened her eyes, and looked down at it. There was silence, and he could hear her breath coming fast.

  "Doesn't hurt as much as it ought to," she said.

  "Bad injuries don't, always," Zach said from behind them. "Adrenalin and that, right?"

  Kir turned round to see him holding three mugs of something that was steaming gently -- he pushed away the flash-memory of Zach shooting steaming water at the mud-thing over the counter -- and a paper bag with something else in.

  "Camomile tea," he said. "And I raided the biscuit shelves. I thought -- well. If it's a problem, I'll pay for it when the till's open again, okay?"

  "I'll pay for it," Kir said, immediately.

  "I hate camomile tea," Ali grumbled, and Zach began to apologise before she took it from him with her good hand and sipped at it, looking relieved. "It's the right thing, though, this time. Thanks, Zach."

  "Thanks," Kir echoed.

  He couldn't quite meet Zach's eyes. If they hadn't been outside, if he'd been with Ali, this wouldn't have happened. She would be fine. Had he used magery? He still couldn't remember. It was his fault, either way, his fault that this had happened to her. If he hadn't been messing around with Zach...

  "That was pretty cool, with the hot water," Ali was saying to Zach, around a mouthful of biscuit.

  He should have been able to manage with that. Instead of doing something to the mud-thing that had led -- led directly -- to it splattering Ali.

  "Hey, Kir," Ali said, and he was grateful to hear that her voice was sounding closer to normal. "The arm. Can you feel anything mage-ish around it, now? I mean, can I take it to hospital, reasonably, or do I need to...God, you know, I don't know what to do with a magical injury, right?"

  "Give me a sec," Kir said. His voice sounded weird in his own ears.

  He didn't want to touch it -- he didn't want to hurt Ali any more than he'd already hurt her, and anyway, if there was any magery to it, it might be possible to transfer it to him, which was not going to help anyone, even if it would have felt somehow suitable as penance.

  It would be bloody awkward penance, though, for everyone. No point in courting damage. That would just be stupid.

  He held his hand just over Ali's forearm, and tried not to let his fingers shake. He closed his eyes, trying to focus in on the feeling under his fingertips, and spread them out to cover the area more evenly.

  "There's a very faint fizz," he said, opening his eyes again. "But it doesn't -- I think it might just be you. Can I have the other arm?"

  Ali held it out, still holding her cup of tea, and he tried again.

  "Yeah," he said. "They're both the same. And I think -- I think it feels like you, close as I can tell."

  "How much time do we spend with each other?" Ali grumbled. "Didn't you ought to know?"

  Kir shrugged, a little helplessly. "I don't normally look for it, you know?"

  "Also you're shaking," Zach said. "Drink the tea. And there's a biscuit for you, too."

  Ali was glaring at him. "You've been pulling too much out of yourself."

  "And it still didn't work," Kir said, bitterly. "Look at you."

  Ali rolled her eyes. "I can't say this is thrilling for me, but I'm controlling the pain now, and it most certainly wasn't your fault, you stupid bastard. Eat the biscuit before you pass out."

  He didn't believe her for a minute, but she was right -- they were both right -- that he needed to eat something.

  "So. Nothing magic. So I go to hospital and say -- what, industrial accident?" Ali said. "I'll probably need pain pills, too." She pulled a face.

  "Get the damn painkillers. If you keep managing your own pain you'll run yourself down the same way you say I've done," Kir said.

  "It's not bleeding," Zach noted, quietly, leaning over Ali's shoulder.

  Kir looked over at him. Zach looked about as anxious about Ali's injury as Kir felt, his mouth tight as he looked down at it. His already pale face looked a little paler and more drawn.

  "No," Ali agreed. "Does that mean I can just leave it to heal by itself?" she asked hopefully.

  "No," Kir and Zach said together.

  Zach looked up and across and Kir, and smiled at him, a sweet smile that made something twist in Kir's stomach. He looked away without smiling back. If he hadn't been outside with Zach, getting distracted, Ali wouldn't have a damn hole in her arm. He could see Zach's confused movement out of the corner of his eye, but he wouldn't look up and risk meeting his eye again.

  "Hospital," he said instead, to Ali, firmly. "Tonight. You don't want to mess around with this. You can see your bone, Ali, for fuck's sake. You ought to be on the floor in agony right now."

  Ali shrugged, looking sulky. "I hate hospitals. I want to go home."

  "You're being unreasonable," Kir said, through his teeth. "Never mind the magic part. If this was an acid burn or something, any regular first-aider would say you ought to go. Hell, if it was me, you'd be saying I ought to go."

  "But..." Ali began, then caught his eye. "Oh, fine. Point taken."

  "I'll come with you," Kir said.

  "Oh, you don't need to bother." She waved her uninjured hand dismissively. "I'll take a book. I'll be fine."

  Kir rolled his eyes. "Ali, don't be fucking absurd. I'll come with you, and that's all there is to it."

  "It would be a damn sight more useful if you stayed here and cleared up all of this," Ali said. "Litsa is going to absolutely lose her fucking shit if she comes in tomorrow morning to see the floor covered with this."

  "I can do it," Zach offered. He was sitting on one of the tables again, his arms folded and his shoulders very slightly hunched. He looked like he was protecting himself from something.

  "It'll be quicker if Kir helps you," Ali said. She waved a hand. "Magery."

  "But you should get to the hospital," Zach said. He still wasn't looking over at Kir. "Like, now."

  "I'll call a cab now," Kir said. "Then do whatever I can while it's on its way. Okay?"

  "I'll call the cab," Ali said. "I can still use one hand, okay? Let me feel useful."

  "You're injured," Kir objected. "You don't have to be useful."

  Ali gave him the finger, then turned it into a 'shoo' gesture as she pulled her phone out of her pocket one-handed, her injured arm still cradled to her chest.

  Zach and Kir worked together in silence, doing much the same as they had in Kir's flat but the other way around: Zach sweeping the mess towards the sink behind the counter while Kir levitated it up and into the sink, with the water running to make sure it didn't clump back together. He was beginning to feel tired now, the pull of the power dragging at his bones despite the biscuit and tea. It didn't help that Zach was still looking tense.

  ""It'll be here in a couple of minutes," Ali said, as they were finishing up -- it had
taken much less time than Kir would have expected from what looked like total havoc. She looked at Kir, then at Zach. "I'll go wait outside, okay?"

  "I can finish up here," Zach said, finally looking up at Kir as the door shut behind Ali.

  Kir shook his head. "Don't worry. I'll come back after Ali's sorted at the hospital. You should go home. Easier if Ali locks up now, anyway, otherwise you'll have to get her keys back to her."

  Zach bit his lip. "Yeah. Okay. If you're sure. Can you text me and let me know she's okay?"

  "Of course," Kir said, that thing twisting inside him again. He swallowed. He had to do this. This was his fault. He had to make sure nothing happened again. And what if next time it was Zach himself? He couldn't risk Zach like this. It wasn't fair.

  Zach stepped towards him and put his hands up to touch Kir's forearms gently. "Hey. You free any time in the next few days?"

  Kir swallowed again. He had to do this. Now. "About that...look. Zach. It's been cool, but, but -- I don't think we should see each other again." Christ, that was more blunt than he'd intended to be. But he couldn't back down now.

  He clenched his jaw against the look on Zach's face, as Zach dropped his hands and took a step backwards. His face was pale again, his eyes shocked. "What -- why? Has something happened? I thought -- I thought we were getting on pretty well."

  Kir flashed back to that kiss outside the coffee shop, and weakened for a second. Then he remembered what happened next, Ali screaming, running back inside, and hardened his heart.

  "It's too dangerous," he said, flatly. "Being around magery. That's twice now you've been around when these things attacked."

  "What, too dangerous for me?" Zach asked. He looked cross now. "Isn't that my decision to make, not yours? You've got an ability I haven't got, Kir. That doesn't make you the boss of me."

  "Listen," Kir said, bitterness taking him over. "If it weren't for you, Ali wouldn't have been hurt."

  "What --?" Zach said, his eyes widening, but Kir overrode him and kept talking.

  "I was outside, with you, getting distracted, and Ali was hurt." He couldn't look at Zach any more; looked over his shoulder at the wall instead. "If I'd been in here, she wouldn't have been. I fucked up. It's not safe to be with you. Or anyone else," he added, trying to be honest.

  "That's absurd," Zach said. "Ali's a grown adult. You can't be there for her all the time." He shook his head. "Look, if you don't want to be together, just say so, okay? You don't need to give me this bullshit."

  Kir grit his teeth. "I don't want to."

  "Fine," Zach said, turning away. "I'd better go back to work. They're going to wonder where the hell the bloody coffee is, mind."

  Outside, a car horn beeped.

  "That'll be your taxi," Zach said. His voice was clipped as he walked towards the door, talking without turning round. "I hope everything's okay at the hospital. I'd count it a favour if you texted me to tell me how Ali is before you delete my number."

  He banged the door shut behind him. Kir stood and stared at the door for a moment before the taxi beeped again, longer and more annoyed-sounding this time. He took a breath, and headed for the door.

  If this was the right decision, how come it felt like it sucked quite so much?

  "Thank fuck Zach was there," Ali said, once they'd checked her in at A&E and were sitting in hard blue plastic seats, waiting to be called.

  A television bolted to the wall was playing some kind of soap opera. The place was crowded but fairly quiet, with nurses calling names at intervals. Apparently, having a massive wound in the middle of your arm wasn't what they called serious here -- Ali wasn't bleeding and was still breathing. Fair enough.

  "About that..." Kir said, stretching his legs out and staring at his feet.

  "What?" Ali said, twisting in her seat to stare at him, then wincing as she jogged her arm. "What's that tone about?"

  "We split up," Kir said, abandoning the attempt to introduce the matter subtly.

  "You did what?" Ali demanded. "Kir, what the hell are you thinking? You like him. Okay, he's not actually a mage, but he already knows about all that stuff, he's been there twice...oh. Oh. Um. Sorry. You mean he broke up with you, because he didn't want to do anything like that again? Well, I guess that would be fair enough, really --"

  "No," Kir broke in, after successfully resisting the urge to let her believe that. "No, it wasn't him. It was me."

  Ali was silent for a moment. "You prat. Why, for fuck's sake?"

  Kir stared down at his feet some more, and swallowed. "Because -- because if it weren't for him, you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

  "What? Kir, you are deluded."

  "No. Honestly. If I hadn't been out there with him, getting -- well, never mind -- then I'd have been in there helping you close up, or waiting for you, or whatever. And then you wouldn't have been attacked, and your ankle would be fine, and it wouldn't have got so far out of hand that you got splashed... And your arm, that was my fault, too."

  "Kir, you do realise that without Zach there helping as well, we would both have been in the shit? No way could you have gotten to the sink at the same time as keeping that thing off, and I sure as hell couldn't, because I wasn't really moving so well at the time, if you remember?"

  "Yes, but," Kir said obstinately, "if I hadn't been outside in the first place, then you wouldn't have hurt your ankle. I said that, already."

  "Jesus Christ, Kir, are you even listening to yourself? Since when were you responsible for looking after me at every moment? I know we've had this discussion before, but this is getting beyond your normal guilt complex. Back off, calm down, stop taking everything onto yourself."

  "It might have been me that made it happen," Kir said, hunching his shoulders.

  "What, you did magery?"

  "I don't know," he confessed. "I -- maybe."

  "Yeah, well," Ali said. "I did, too."

  "You did? In the cafe, where one of those things showed up once already?"

  "Yeah, thanks, I accept it was stupid. But the point is -- that's not your fault either."

  "Still," Kir said. "Look, Zach's cool, and all that. But I haven't got the time, and he's not a mage, and in general it's just a bad idea."

  "None of that is even slightly reasonable. You know that, right?" Ali huffed, and sat back in her chair. "But hey, it's your life to fuck up, if you insist on fucking it up. But if you ask me, you are making some truly dreadful decisions at this time. And -- I'm just going to say this, then I'm going to shut up."

  "A likely story," Kir muttered, not quite under his breath, and Ali jabbed her uninjured elbow into him.

  "The thing I am noticing," she went on, "is that you're not saying you don't like him, or you don't fancy him, or that there's anything about him and the relationship that isn't working out. Other than, okay, that he's not a mage, but that's a bullshit reason and well you know it. You're not saying you don't want to. You're saying you think you shouldn't, and all your reasons are self-immolating crap. So. There you go. Up to you if you want to screw yourself over."

  Kir hunched his shoulders again. "Fine. Lecture heard. Now, I am going to go and get some crap chocolate out of the vending machine, and then I am going to come back and we are going to talk about something else, okay? We're going to be here for hours, and I can't take hours of dissection of my love life."

  Ali grinned up at him. "I said, I'm done. A Wispa for me, please."

  It was only around three hours, in the end, before a harassed looking doctor inspected Ali's arm and sent her for an X-ray of her ankle. After that another hour saw her arm packed and a dressing over the top, her ankle bandaged up, and the two of them on their way out of the doors with a photocopied sheet about pain management and strict instructions about the circumstances under which she should go back to her GP.

  "At least it's not broken," Ali said, hobbling with the aid of a crutch. Two might have worked better, but she wasn't going to be able to use her injured arm with a crutch.

  "
At least they bought your explanation of how you got that sort of wound on your arm," Kir said. "Right. Taxi to yours?"

  "If you're paying," Ali said. "I'm out of cash til next Friday."

  Kir rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course I'm paying."

  He texted Zach from the taxi. Ali all bandaged up. All fine. K.

  He should delete Zach's number, really. If they weren't going to be seeing each other again. He didn't, though. It -- didn't seem like a good idea, somehow. Or he just didn't want to. Something like that.

  "God, what even is the time?" Ali asked, leaning back against the headrest in the back of the taxi and yawning.

  "One a.m.," Kir said. "Feels later, doesn't it?"

  "I don't want to be up this late unless I'm getting some fun out of it," Ali grumbled.

  "You mean getting attacked by inexplicable magical beings made of dirt and rubbish isn't fun?" Kir said, eyes wide. "You should have told me before."

  "Shut it, Davies."

  Opening the door to Ali's flat, Kir was faintly surprised to hear voices coming from the living room. Heather, and four or five other people, a couple of whom Kir vaguely recognised from previous Ali house parties, were camped all over the living room with papers and maps spread around them. There were a lot of loose trousers and flowy tops in evidence, and a couple of ill-advised beards. Heather's hippy mates, obviously. Kir frowned. Ali needed to get to sleep, not be kept up talking, and there was no way she'd go straight to bed if there was someone here to talk to, however tired she was.

  On the upside -- maybe she could use a bit of distraction. Something that wasn't magery or dangerous or anything like that.

  "Oh, hey! You're late," Heather said. "Oh my god, Ali, what happened to you? Come over here, you take my space on the sofa, I can sit on the floor."

  Kir caught Ali's slight hesitation, but before he could suggest that maybe she should just go to bed, Ali was hobbling into the living room.