Chapter 7
UGLY REALITIES
Cesar
Healer Torres sauntered back into the exam room. The look on his face didn’t leave me with any doubts about his findings. As per the paranormal medics’ advice, Artur hadn’t left my side, and truth be told, I was dreading the oncoming news.
But this wasn’t the way I wanted Artur to find out.
“Cesar,” Torres began, but then frowned and paused.
“Just tell me.”
He glanced at Artur with suspicion.
“Oh, for god’s sake. Artur is a friend, and if the news you’re about to drop is as bad as I think it is, I’m going to need someone sitting right here who cares about me.”
“Fine,” Torres huffed. “Cesar, we talked about this last year, and I did tell you to limit your use of magic. Clearly, you didn’t listen.”
“Ah, bone crafting is how I make my living?” I said with a touch of incredulity. “It’s not like I’m about to give that up. I have to eat.”
“Cesar, we both know you’ve done well for yourself. You could have lightened your workload and postponed the inevitable.” Torres pursed his lips in disgust.
He wasn’t wrong. There were all kinds of things I could have done, spells I could have had others cast, work I could have contracted out to novices and overseen their work. That would have at least allowed me to get paid, and pass along my knowledge to others.
Instead, like most of my generation, I sneered at the expert medical advice.
Dumb-ass move.
Artur’s gaze moved back and forth between the healer and me. He kept silent, but I could tell he had a million questions.
Torres shoved a thoughtograph into a light box, then flipped the switch. He took a second one and positioned the two images side by side.
I could already tell; everything inside me caved.
“Okay, well, I can tell from your response that you know exactly what is going on. For gods’ sake, Cesar, I thought if anyone would have listened to my advice, it would have been you. You can do better than this.”
“Now is not the time for a lecture,” I said firmly.
“No, it’s the perfect bloody time,” Torres’s voice raised in pitch and volume. “How could you? Your talent is so rare, and yet you knew this happens to most bone witches. And still, you didn’t take any precautions. It’s just so irresponsible.”
“Okay, I’m sorry, but what the hell is going on?” Artur asked. “I know I’m only here for moral support, but it would be nice to know what I’m trying to support?”
Torres glared at Artur.
“Fuck off, Torres. Artur is a good friend. Tell him.”
“I don’t know if you’re willingly playing with fire or if the disease has just progressed to a point where there’s no saving you.
” Torres shook his head. “It’s your life.
” He shrugged and then tilted his head toward Artur.
“Your friend has early onset dementia brought about by the flagrant use of his abilities. It’s common amongst bone witches.
There are— or should I say, were— ways for Artur to diminish the damage, or at least prolong his life, but clearly, he hasn’t done anything to help himself.
He gestured toward an image. “This was taken last year when Cesar came to see me once he suspected the problem had arrived.” Torres pointed to several spots.
“These are lesions— small, but manageable.” Then the healer pointed to the first image thrust into the light box.
“And this is today’s scan. The lesions have turned into holes. HOLES, Cesar!”
“Wait,” Artur interjected, “are you telling me he has brain deterioration? Like, brain damage?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. An injury he could have prevented.”
Artur looked at me. “Are you okay?”
“For now. But Torres is not wrong. I’m forgetting stuff all the time, and every contact with powerful magic exacerbates the condition. My uncle had the same disease. I’m genetically predisposed to the condition, just like there were good chances I would be born a bone witch.”
“Well, how long do you have before…” Artur took a breath, glanced at the healer, then back to me. “How long do I have with you before you don’t know who I am anymore?”
Torres spoke up, “Well, it could be years, or it could be months. That’s all dependent on Cesar.”
“Artur, I have one more job to do for the Hurtados.”
“Not Dia de Muertos?” Torres’s eyes went wild. “You have got to be fucking kidding. That will likely ruin you. You cannot reanimate a corpse at this stage.”
“I have to, for my reputation, for payment, and if I’m not mistaken, for my own safety,” I stated, knowing that Luana’s threats were often laced with impending violence.
“You got into bed with the wrong family, Cesar,” Torres admonished me. “You know what they’re like,” he whispered, glancing around the clinic room, which was empty except for us.
“I do. That’s why I have to carry on with this task.”
Torres shook his head. “So be it. I cannot force you to do anything. I can only give you my medical advice. If you refuse to follow instructions, it’s on you.”
“Ah, that’s a little harsh,” Artur remarked.
I’d spent such little time with this man, and yet, not only did he seem to care, but he had shown me loyalty and friendship over the course of the last few days. Yet more reasons to think that his negative standing within the clans was unfairly given.
“It is what it is. I’m giving you what I see happening in the future if Cesar doesn’t act now.
I’ve psychically mended the back of your head, although you may still experience symptoms of a mild concussion.
So, having him around to help you out and notice any wayward behaviour is a good idea.
I can release you after this visit, but you need to heed my advice, Cesar.
If you don’t, the progression of the disease will increase exponentially. ”
Artur turned to look at me. “I have things to tell you now that you’re more yourself, and I can count on you being able to use your brain. After the accident, you couldn’t even recall my name.” Artur gave me a scowl, one that I had earned.
I glanced at Torres. “I’m good to go?”
He sighed and shook his head. “Yes.”
“Good. Artur, let’s go.”
Artur stood, took my hand, and helped me up. He steadied me until I was sure on my feet, then he stuck close as I navigated my way down the long, sterile corridor of the clinic.
Once we were out in the tropical sunlight, I had to shield my eyes. I turned Artur around, grabbed his other hand, and rubbed my thumb over his skin.
“Thank you. I have to admit, I’m surprised you stuck with me, but I’m glad you did.
” And I meant it. It would have been scary to go through all that by myself, and I wasn’t good with doctors and healers.
Artur’s presence was a soothing balm to my frazzled nerves, and apparently to my holey, untrustworthy brain.
“We need to go somewhere and talk. There are things that I need to tell you—visions I had when the explosion happened.”
“I know just the place, and we should get Elena in on this conversation. She’s clairvoyant, so if you had visions, she could help make sense of them.
“But Artur, I’m surprised. You’re telekinetic, and you have visions too? Those are different abilities from different branches in the talent tree. Are you sure you’re a chaos witch?”
“Absolutely certain. It’s not the first time I’ve had epiphanies.”
“Interesting. Still, if you’re okay, I’d like Elena to listen in and provide some advice.”
“Do you think she might be nicer to me?”
I smiled at Artur. “Of that, I will guarantee she’ll behave.”
Artur smiled back at me, then squeezed my hands. “You scared me. I thought my magic had harmed you beyond fixing.”
“Well now, I’m even more interested in your side of the story. Come. Let’s go to Fridas. Besides, I have a craving for a margarita and their chiles en nogada.”
“Are you sure? You’ve just had a major medical incident, and you want to go to a bar?”
“It’s a special place, I’m comfortable there, and you need to meet the owner. Besides, I’m starving and I’m not cooking anything at home. Elena will meet us there. And then, afterwards, we’ll go back to your stall and meet up with this wight. Did you bring the black tourmaline?”
Artur threw up his hands in surrender. “I did. It’s in my pocket. Are you sure you’re okay to deal with all of this? A wight? The bar? I’m going with you every step of the way.”
“Good, because once we’re done dealing with all this nonsense, you’ll have to come home with me and make sure I’m okay. That means you’ll have to spend the night.”
I gave Artur a knowing look, one I hoped he interpreted correctly.
He cocked an eyebrow and smiled.
It seemed he’d caught on.