Heartsick
Sitara’s POV
I log my patient care notes about the tea Lenny prepared, Torryn’s audible sighs of pain when he laughs, and the lack of apparent complications in treatment thus far. Using a cloth, I pick up the iron bullets I’d scattered on the counter and place them in his bag beside his weapon. It’s getting late, or becoming early, rather.
Should I tell him why my hand looks robotic?
“Drink that, and rest.” I’m halfway out the door before I even organize my thoughts. “If you need anything, press the button on the wall.”
The outside handle of the ward locks, enchanted to answer only to my touch and Lenny’s. It’s better this way; there’s no need to open up to a total stranger about my injury… even if his voice feels safe to trade war stories with. Doesn’t matter. I lean against the closed door. My hand has nothing to do with the F3s or the military. A pre-sunset haze engulfs the desolate floor of the practice. My nerve implants throb, deprived of magick. I’m tired.
Human man, what are you, really?
By some miracle, I do fall asleep upon returning to bed. More of a coma than anything else. My magick is all out of whack. I haven’t had to heal wounds like Torryn’s since the war. Ailments, minor injuries, and the occasional hex, but not so many severe lacerations, let alone on a human. I don’t work on humans nearly as much as I did. Peacetime has been pretty good to the health of all people.
The practice should’ve opened over an hour ago. I pull myself together and hop down the stairs two at a time, only to find Lennox calmly juggling a.m. routines and restocking.
“Mornin,” she hums, identifying my presence without so much as a glance. “I tagged and shelved the tablets you crafted yesterday.”
“Sorry I slept so late. I meant to tag those myself.” I scan her work, straightening a few stray products on the salesfloor. The pricing and arrangements are perfect. She always has this place running flawlessly. How could I forget? There’s no reason for me to rush these days.
My hair has yet to regain its pigment and my hand still aches.
“Oh, and Torryn responded well to the brew, so I gave him solids earlier. Don’t eat the leftovers. It’s a human recipe and you won’t like it.”
Not really hungry anyway. “Did you check the wounds on his torso yet?”
“That’s next on list after exchanging a few of these candles.” The candles. Her life will be easier when she doesn’t have to keep so many lit.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him today.”
“Are you sure you feel up to it?”
“Just focus on the practice, Lenny. You’re doing a great job.”
Torryn is hastily flipping through a grimoire in the back room. He has too much energy for me this early. It’s like he isn’t even injured. I guess some people just bounce back that quick.
I need to meditate.
“Ah, Sitara!” He turns the book towards me. “What do all these symbols mean?”
Good morning to you, too. “You wouldn’t be able to read them even if you were holding it the right way.” I flip the text around and define a few of the scripts on the page. “Fire. Storm water. Counter clockwise.”
“Lennox said it was a spell book, sort of.”
I prepare new gauze as he continues to scour the pages. “Well, we are mages, after all.”
“It’s normal to you,” he squints at the symbols, “but we don’t have many on our side of the veil.”
“It’s harder for humans to use magick.” Their bodies aren’t built for it. Neither is mine, realistically. “I want to check on your wounds and change the dressing.”
He gently lays the open book beside him. “By all means, doc. Work your magic.”
I roll my eyes, but I don’t think he even realized the pun.
In the daylight, I’m able to take a better look at Torryn. His black hair is tightly nestled up in knot, with strays framing his face. He’s much livelier, smiling despite sitting before me in bandages. The old gauze absorbed residual bleeding in the night. His face is much less marred, thanks to the vervian salve, but I’m more concerned about making sure that gash on his stomach closes.
Torryn straightens up when he sees it. “That looks way better than it did at first.”
No wonder the first wrap job was a wreck, then. He was probably only half conscious when he did it. “I circulated a lot of magick through you so your wounds would heal.” I wasn’t sure he’d make it otherwise. The cut was deeper than I’d thought, and managed to destroy a vein that would’ve required surgery. Luckily, I was able to come up with the energy to repair it using the circulation. It’s almost all closed up now.
“Sounds painful.”
It’s magick, not electricity. “Well, you were out cold and couldn’t have felt a thing, so I guess you’ll never know.” I apply the last of the vervian salve around the laceration and secure a linen wrap around his waist, abandoning the gauze since he’s no longer bleeding.
He picks up the grim as soon as I turn away. “Oh, hey, what about this one, what does this one mean?” He points at the bottom corner of a page. “I’ve seen it before, and it’s all throughout this book.”
It’s a rune… my rune, rather. The one I use as my magick signature. Back when I was studying, I’d practice drawing it in all my books so it would look perfect. “Where have you seen it?”
“On the bullets for my gun, and a few documents I’ve come across on assignments.”
He is military then? A freelancer for the military? “There are runes on your bullets?” I can’t believe I hadn’t thought to check. I mean, he’s carrying an F3, for fae’s sake.
He digs one out of his bag at the foot of the bed. “It’s the same one that’s in the book.”
There it is. My rune stamped on the bottom of his bullets, his iron bullets, for his fae hunting gun… both of which I helped create.
I jump to change the subject. “Oh, Lennox said she made you breakfast. Do you feel okay?” It’s rare to have non-fae in overnight care, so we don’t usually need to prepare human cuisine. Torryn’s plate is empty, though.
“I feel fine. I guess I’m a little sore, but she made the best meal I’ve had in weeks.”
Looks like her time living with humans has come in handy again. Honestly, I might help with replenishing our stock and overseeing most patient treatment, but she’s more than capable of taking over this place now. I’m just waiting for the right time…
“Speaking of Lennox,” Torryn interrupts. “She was rushing around lighting candles this morning like her life depended on it.”
It doesn’t, but she thinks mine does. “The candles help stabilize and recalibrate energy.”
“She seemed really worried. What happens if too many blow out?”
“Nothing. We live in a sakura that’s naturally one of the best magick generators for fae.” The candles are only a supplement in case my disease flares up.
His eyes widen. “You live in a tree?” He sweeps his arms out and raises his furrowed eyebrows at me. “With this much of a fire hazard?”
I can’t help but smile, shaking my head. It’s hard not to find his brightness a bit charming. Brightness. That’s what I’d call it. A combination of his smile and vivacity and humor. “They’ve never caught even a bay leaf on fire.”
“Still, it seems overkill. Smells nice, but overkill.”
“They’re unscented. You’re probably just smelling the herbs and supplies.”
He dramatically feigns devastation, flopping back on the bed. “All these candles and they don’t even smell good?”
I break into laughter, taking his plate to return to the kitchenette. I think he’ll be safe to discharge as soon as nightfall, but I’ll give him honey and keep monitoring him until then.
“Sitara.” He stops me before I go, still sprawled out, staring at the ceiling. “Lennox said you’d get sick without the candles.”
What?
“I don’t think she meant to. It kind of slipped out.” He turns to me, his eyes soft. “But she didn’t explain why.”
I suck in a breath, debating my response. Why did she tell him that? “I already told you. The tree is magickal enough to sustain fae without the candles.” His expression doesn’t change. “Try not to jump around. I’ll be right back.”
Lennox is back at the front service desk documenting a new shipment of sorts. I rest my elbows on the side across from her.
“What’s up? How’s Torryn?”
“Fine, fine. Good, actually.”
She blinks up at me. “Why are talking to me in that I-know-what-you-did voice?”
“I don’t know. Why’d you tell Torryn I’d get sick if you didn’t light enough candles?”
Her face scrunches up. “Well…” she trails off. “You know, I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I was tired. It was supposed to be an internal thought, but I verbalized it, making it a verbal thought, and he was right there. I’m used to being alone in the mornings, and a bunch more had blown out overnight than usual…”
“Lenny,” I cut her off, “It’s not that. I just don’t want you to worry so much about me.”
“But you entirely depleted your magick yesterday when you were healing. You couldn’t even move your hand!”
I wasn’t confident I had the time to spare for meditation during the process. It was important to catalyze the tissue growth as much as possible before working topically. “I understand your concern, but…” I can’t bring myself to say it. The candles aren’t going to keep me from getting sick.
“I know, I know. Don't worry about you," she breathes. “I’m sorry I said that to him. I didn’t tell him anything else.”
I squeeze her shoulder before heading back to the treatment ward. “Forget about that. He doesn’t seem like a threat.” I think it’s okay to trust him.
I think I want to know more about him.
Comments