“Nope.”
“It would save time.”
“And that’s why you always told me the story about great-grandmother Sabine who brought half of Darkside to their knees only to be betrayed and killed by her love, because you wanted me to learn that the easy way is usually not the effective way.”
She smiled at me. “Indeed. I’m glad that you learned something during your youth.”
I closed my eyes and focused on not noticing her, the way that she touched my face, unwrapped my splint and slid her hands over my side. My internal organs were not in good shape. She would concoct something nasty that I would have to drink, and probably burn candles, and maybe do other things that I would find even less pleasant, but I couldn’t be sure.
Much less pleasant. The things I ate, drank, and inhaled were noxious, sure to kill me in every way that truly mattered, and through it all, she smiled pleasantly. She set my broken leg, and I managed not to scream which got a pat from her, on my broken leg. My internal organs were what she really focused on, what the nastiest potions were for. It wouldn’t be easy to absorb anything deep enough through my skin. She injected a few things into my blood stream and once she took a great needle that she stabbed into my side and drew out a good deal of puss. I tried not to feel or smell that one, but it was a little bit difficult.
Anyway, no point in dwelling on that fun. When Revere came, I was relieved. He would do some spell to set everything straight. He came in, took one look at me and started lecturing me about the idiocy of females of my generation. For ten minute he stood there waxing loquacious about all sorts of useful subjects until my mother cut him off.
“Revere, do you think you could set her leg? I have it ready.”
He blinked at her. “Of course not. She has a different protective spell. I can’t lay any spellwork on her without undoing the new spell. That would take too much time and effort. How did you manage to break it?”
I smiled at him stiffly. “I found a mage that I thought would be suitable husband material, but it turns out I was mistaken. When he broke my protective spell it became glaringly obvious that I would need another.”
His scowl was furious. “You trusted him before you managed to marry him? How is it possible for you to be so…” He inhaled sharply.
I half sat up then laid back down because my insides were not in the best condition. “I’m my mother’s daughter. Need I say more? Where were you, anyway?”
His expression shuttered, his lips thinned, and he proceeded to put marks on the floor, measured out with his ruler, a lovely design full of swishes and swirls in a circle around me. It took him a good hour and his forehead was dripping when he had finished drawing the last mark that brought the design together. “And that’s that,” he said while the sparks burst black then I felt much better, like being ensconced on Signore’s couch.
I closed my eyes and rested because whatever Revere said, he would heal me, and so would my mother.
By the next morning, I realized that I was wrong. The healing was happening, but it was slow, barely magical. So much effort for such meaningless results. All he was doing was keying up my own cells to help them regenerate.
“What does this mean?” I demanded of Revere where he sat in a wingback with a newspaper. No one had newspapers anymore. Maybe it was from Darkside.
“There’s war brewing.”
“No, this, me not healing.”
He snapped the pages shut and glared at me over them. “I told you. I can’t heal you. The mage who reset your spell can. I’d suggest that you persuade him to do so once you get back to school. You should be up to travel by this afternoon without it undoing all the work your mother has done.”
“But…” I wanted to look nice. I would not look nice. I would look truly terrible and it was all Pitch’s fault. I closed my eyes tight and it hurt a lot because one eye was healing, but with so many other injuries for my body to handle, it wasn’t going very well. I took a shaky breath and opened my eyes. “Where’s mother?”
She hadn’t poured a potion down my throat for hours.
“She got distracted. She realized that one of the chemical reactions she was searching for was linked to one of your healers.”
“So now she’s doing research, completely forgetting about me?”
He shrugged and opened his newspaper. “Poppy was much louder. Also, there’s only so much she can do. She’s not a healer by nature.”
That was true enough. She was the opposite. That she could touch me for so long without inflicting more pain on me was kind of impressive.
“Fine.” I sat up and then carefully rose to my one good leg. “If I’m going to ask Drake to heal me, I should look a bit less like death warmed over. Could you carry me up to my room?”
He made a face like I’d asked him to chop off his left foot, no, like I’d asked him to eat my chopped off left foot, the one I’d left in the sun for two weeks to rot. What was so disgusting about carrying me up the stairs? Did Signore hate carrying me so much? Zach didn’t seem to mind. Of course, because he wanted Pitch. He would do anything to have her. Obviously. It kind of stung that he cared so little about me, but whatever.
I hopped up the stairs, jiggling my insides with every jump. In my room, I started a bath, got out my grandmother’s old shampoo and lotions. I tried not to use them so they would last longer, but I didn’t really have a lot of supplies in my room anymore.
I bathed, washed my hair, lotioned, potioned, and then dressed. I only had black left in my closet, but the dress was impressively ruffled and blowsy. I wore a fluffy half-slip beneath it to hold the skirt out. I splinted my leg, pulled on my heavy duty black tights, which held the splint nicely in place then tied my hair back in a black bow, and headed down the stairs, dropping my shoes over the railing to fall the four stories down to bounce over to the Forgotten Soldier.
I did feel better, it just wasn’t the results I was used to. Stupid Zach for messing up my spell. Revere was waiting when I reached him. He held out a small book while I scrambled around for my shoes. He was above scrambling around for shoes.
Finally, I had one on and carried the other while I took the book. “What’s this?”
“This is a very rare and forgotten text that is full of healing spells. If you are concerned about owing your mage, you should offer this book as a gift and wait for him to accept it and offer to heal you without price.”
“But isn’t this rare spellbook the price of the healing?”
He rolled his eyes. “Of course.”
“I don’t get it.”
“A mage who is forming an alliance with a witch will hope to be useful. A witch will give that mage the opportunity to feel as though he’s being honorable instead of self-serving.”
I gave him a hug while he stiffened. “I see. Thanks for the lesson in mage logic.”
They were all completely crazy. I didn’t yell good-bye at my mother. I was lucky to have seen her in such a docile and compliant stage. I didn’t need her setting back any progress I’d made, particularly if Revere couldn’t spell me back into shape.
The ride home was much less comfortable than the trip with Signore, even stretched out on the back seat. I hurt so much. I was really bored with it.
When we reached Rosewood, it was a little after four. Revere must have driven slower to spare me some of the bumps. Either that, or to annoy me. I opened the door and got out at the gates of Rosewood. It would be a bit of a walk, but my leg was feeling practically only broken once instead of three times. I tried to walk casually, but people still stared at me, maybe because I was wearing black.
When I got to Drake’s room, I knocked on the door, and it opened immediately.
He wore a top hat, pink, and it matched his pink suit. He looked incredibly ridiculous, particularly compared to Revere who didn’t know that there were any colors in the world other than black and white. Drake’s eyes were dark but the specks of green were so beautiful, I slid my hands around his neck and pull
ed him close so I could kiss his cheek. I let my lips linger on his skin, inhaling deeply the black cherry scent with more than a hint of ashes. I parted my lips and tasted his skin, something lavender and vanilla in his soap with an undercurrent of cedar. It was odd that I could taste that, but not smell it.
I pulled away and smiled at him. “Hello.”
“You’re late.” He pulled me inside and closed the door behind me, then stayed there, staring down at me.
I pulled away when I realized that I still had a bandaged eye and I couldn’t look that terribly good without all the perfect makeup I’d left at Rosewood.
“I have a present for you.”
He studied me before he murmured. “What could it be? Is the mouse trained and ready to ride in my hat?”
I shook my head and pulled the rare spellbook out of my bag. My hand was shaking. Stupid hand. I was fine. This wasn’t a big deal, no problem, so why was it hard to smile? “It’s a book on healing spells. You mentioned that you wanted to improve your spellwork.”
He smiled slightly before he took the book in his white-gloved hands. “Indeed. It’s a beautiful book. If only I had someone I could practice on.”
I raised my hand. “I actually have a few small injuries that you could use. If you’d like.” It felt so strange, so uncomfortable to arrange for him to help me instead of simply doing an honest and open barter. It felt like I was asking for favors, and he was giving them, all while pretending that we weren’t. It was a game I didn’t understand.
He smiled widely, showing me his sparkling white teeth. “Excellent. I do so appreciate your willingness to surrender your injuries to me.”
I frowned as he led me over to the couch. It was dark in his room except for the elaborate candlesticks on every surface with pink candles that smelled like cake. There were three tea carts, and I stared at them hungrily. Macaroons, bonbons, cupcakes, sandwiches, tarts, tortes, flans, soufflés, heavens, was that ice cream cake? How did he keep it from melting? He was truly a mage.
“Here you are,” he said, handing me a filled plate while he sat beside me. He opened the book and studied the first page. “There seem to be a few spells marked here. Broken bones, reconstructing eyes, healing internal organs, and basic bruising. That’s a bit for a first lesson. Do you think you’re up for it?”
I smiled at him while I chewed a bite of apricot tartlet. “If you feed me while you heal me, I’ll put up with as much as you desire.”
He raised an eyebrow. “If you use words like desire, I’ll be forced to believe you.”
Revere was a much better spellsmith. Drake had to read the spell several times over, and then he’d make notations in the margins and look on his computer, before he finally attempted anything. He started with my leg, said it sounded more straightforward. Still, healing my one leg took him four hours. I ate. A lot, and then I simply watched him pace and mutter under his breath with a scowl of concentration on his face.
I really liked it, laying on his couch while he learned spellwork and practiced on me. I laughed after the third time when he finally managed to make one broken bone click into place. “You’re really terrible at this.”
He frowned and shook his head. “Only encouragement allowed. If you can’t say something nice and all that. Now shut up. This is going to take all night.”
He was much faster with the rest of the leg and finally, I exhaled in relief as I stood up and spun around, no pain, no discomfort other than the swelling and bruising.
He put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me close to him. “Do you realize that you’re going to have to kiss me now?”
I stared at him and smiled. “I already kissed you. More kissing is against the rules.”
He glowered at me, dangerously. “Ah. I forgot. I suppose I’ll have to kiss you.” He pulled me close and almost brushed his lips to my cheek then pushed me away. “No distractions. Eat more cake or lie down. I have to study the internal organs next, or eyeball restructure.” He winced. “I really should have studied a little more spellcraft. As in some.” He picked up his phone and spoke into it. “This is Drake. Yes. I am experimenting with some healing spells. I could use someone to keep me from putting things together inside out, if you don’t mind.”
He dropped the phone on the couch and then pulled out the spellbook to read through the healing spell again. I felt much better, particularly since if he’d healed my leg then he could heal the rest of me, even if it might take a bit more time than I liked.
When someone knocked on the door, Drake called, “come in!” and then a tall man entered, looking like a tennis coach in a suit. Not that I’ve ever seen a tennis coach, but something about him was like California only on the other coast. Which also made no sense. I pressed my lips together to keep from saying anything. Maybe all the cake was going to my head.
“I’m going to heal her internal organs. It will be really disgusting if I mess this up. This is what I have. Do I need anything else?” Drake said, gesturing the older man over impatiently.
He came over and methodically went over Drake’s notes. “Drake, it’s so gratifying to be called in your new endeavor to master healing spells. You probably should have called me before you mangled her leg. It looks as though you tried every possible wrong way.” He looked at me with a smile that made his eyes crinkle. “How do you do? I should introduce myself since Drake forgets his manners, if he has any that is. I’m Jasper.”
“Oh, then we have met, or you’ve met me unconscious, and we spoke.”
He nodded soberly. “That’s right.”
“Jasper, if you’re finished being appropriately polite and vaguely condescending, could you please tell me if this is right? It’s her internal organs. I really don’t want to make a mistake with those.”
Jasper didn’t bother looking at his notes, just shook his head, soberly. “I have no way of knowing. I can’t see which of her internal organs are damaged, if any. I’m not the mage who set her protection spell. If you were a competent spellsmith, you’d be able to analyze her body, but teaching you that would take far more time than I believe Miss Lane would like to spend in her current state of discomfort. If I did Craticulotomy on her, I’d have an idea what was required.” He sighed. “I can only imagine what kind of a mess you would have made if you hadn’t requested assistance.”
Drake scowled at him then shook his head and gave me a wry grin. “Do you mind if we give you an x-ray type thing?”
“Radiation?”
He shook his head and his expression turned slightly leering. “You’ll have to lie on my bed.”
“Above your bed,” Jasper corrected mildly.
“Oh. Um, that sounds interesting. Of course.”
“You’ll also have to take off your clothes.”
Jasper frowned at Drake then shrugged. “It would simplify the process. Not all your clothing, of course, but a simple robe would be sufficient.”
So it was that a few minutes later I found myself in my half slip and camisole levitated above Drake’s bed. It’s not every day you get levitated by a couple of mages, one who knew what he was doing, the other one who seemed to touch me much more now that he didn’t have to rely on his concentration to piece me back together.
“Spleen,” Jasper said.
“And this…” Drake slid his hand over the bottom of my ribs. “There’s something here.”
Jasper nodded and gave Drake an approving look. “Indeed. You don’t actually have to touch the girl.”
Drake gave Jasper an innocent look. “Are you certain?”
I laughed a strangled laugh. “Focus, please. I am not loving this floating above your bed thing.”
“You’d rather be on my bed,” Drake whispered in my ear so Jasper couldn’t hear.
“I heard that,” Jasper said. “Notice the bruising in the liver. It’s been freshly rejuvenated. Your mother, I imagine.”
I nodded. “Liverwort juice.”
Drake made a gagging sound. “Delicious.”
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br /> Jasper shook his head. “Drake, focus. The girl isn’t interested in an extended conversation. All right. Now?”
Drake grinned at me and snapped his fingers. The room sparked green and I fell to his bed.
“Be careful,” Jasper snapped, but I was laughing. In spite of my internal organs.
Jasper didn’t do the spellwork on me, but he assisted Drake and the healing went about ten times faster with his assistance than without it. Jasper was also funny to watch with Drake. Jasper was clearly older, more experienced, but somehow Drake was in charge. It was funny to watch because the longer I studied them the more it seemed like Drake resented being in charge when Jasper was older and wiser. Drake having to ask question after question instead of simply following direction, it was infuriating to him. I really enjoyed watching him struggle to keep his temper, to focus, to be polite and respectful while trying not to completely mess up the very complicated spells contained in the small book.
Jasper looked at it with longing, but Drake wouldn’t let him see it, which was hilarious, and since I wasn’t levitating, but laying on Drake’s bed that was probably spelled like Signore’s couch, I didn’t mind. I relaxed into Drake’s competent hands, well, mostly competent hands, knowing that Jasper would keep him from messing up too badly.
Then it was time to look at my eye. Hopefully Drake wasn’t squeamish. I was. Drake simply took off my bandage, and started probing the wound like it was an interesting project in Biology. He clearly had no problems with a delicate stomach. I didn’t talk or think, just held my breath while I had to stare up into Drake and Jasper’s faces, trying to not see them, instead focusing on the ceiling past them. My eye was much improved, but still. It wasn’t pus-filled and oozing, at least I didn’t think it was. It smelled clean, healing, like my mother’s last poultice. She should have changed it more often during the night, but when she got distracted, there wasn’t anything for it.
“This may sting a little,” Jasper said, and then it stung only for a moment, and with a flash of green and the feeling of tightness in my eye that eased back into the rest of my skull, it was healed.
Dread Delight: Rosewood Academy for Witches and Mages (Darkly Sweet Book 2) Page 35
