Chapter 42 Declan #2
“What’s that?” I edged away as if the book had fangs.
She chuckled. “It is a book on human anatomy.”
I groaned. “A whole book about body parts? Please, Spirits, save me—or kill me, whichever’s easier.”
“We still have a lot of work to do with your endurance, but you have learned most of what I can teach in the other areas. Now it is time to work on Healing, the most important ability you may ever possess.”
I leaned forward, intrigue replacing dread. “How do we test for it?”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small knife. Before I could say anything, she winced as she scored a deep line across her palm. Blood rushed to the surface and dribbled onto the table.
“Mother! What are you doing?”
“Quickly, don’t think. Place your palm over mine and call your Light.”
I grabbed her hand and held my other palm above hers.
Nothing happened.
“Now what?”
“Focus your Light. Narrow it, shaping its tip into a point, like a quill. Then use it to seal the cut. Visualize using your quill to ‘write’ a line of magic along the wound. Do not rush. Healing takes time.” Blood pooled under her hand.
My heart pounded faster as I watched the angry cut weep.
In my mind, I formed the image of a quill, then pointed it at the wound and trickled magic into its tip. My palm began to glow, and I almost lost concentration as it flared.
“Focus. Hold your Light.” Kelsa’s voice was calm and reassuring. “Now, seal the wound.”
A thin stream of translucent azure flowed through the quill and out the tip onto Kelsa’s palm. It took a moment to figure out how to guide the flow, to aim the quill, but a short time later, the wound was Healed. Kelsa’s skin bore only a faded pink line of new flesh.
I slumped in my chair and wiped the sweat from my face.
Kelsa smiled as she examined her hand. “Very nice. Tell me what you just learned.”
“That took more concentration than anything we’ve done so far.” I poured a glass of wine and took a long sip. “I made the quill in my mind, like you said, but it was hard to direct it at first.”
“Oh, I know. I felt you tickling all around the cut.”
“Sorry about that. Once I got the hang of pointing the quill, the rest was easy. I just had to stay focused and keep the magic flowing into the wound.”
“Perfect. That is exactly how it should work.” Kelsa poured herself a glass. “But that was a simple, superficial cut. Imagine someone seriously wounded with internal bleeding and multiple damaged organs. Speed would be critical to save their life. How do you think you would Heal that person?”
I thought a moment. “I wouldn’t even know where to start, how to identify everything that was wrong, or which problem to attack first. I’m trying to visualize that person on the table and think through what to do, but all I see is blood and a dying man.”
She nodded. “In that case, you would never see the damaged organs unless the man’s belly was split open. And then, you might have more on your table than magic could handle. Do you understand the need for that book now?”
She looked entirely too pleased with herself.
“Unless you are content possessing only the most basic Healing skills, you will need to be able to identify internal parts of the body, their functions, and how they interact with all the other parts. Only then could you begin to Heal someone with internal injuries.
I am afraid this is only the first of many books you will need to study before your Healing lessons even begin.”
I groaned again. “Great. I was never very good in classes at the Academy. The Mages always told me I wasn’t applying myself.”
“It is time to change that.” Kelsa stood. “I have a few things to take care of. Get started on the first chapter, and I will quiz you later.”
As she strode away, I pulled the book toward me and dusted off the cover. It crackled when I opened it, and I had to pry some of the ancient pages apart. I flipped past the first few pages until I reached the first chapter: “Levels of Organization.”
“This is going to be awesome,” I deadpanned as I leaned back and stared at the chapter title.
órla made her first appearance of the morning, landing on the table and dunking her head into a wine glass.
When I glanced up again, she had settled by the pitcher and was staring at me.
I couldn’t believe how much she’d changed.
She still stood less than ten inches in height, but her plumes had matured into something breathtaking.
The brown-speckled feathers of her wings and body were now snowy white, not a spot of color remaining, while those of her breast shimmered in brilliant gold, as if someone had painted the polished metal onto each feather.
“What are you staring at?” Her voice had also deepened from a perky, high-pitched little girl to the husky notes of a fully-grown woman who might’ve smoked a bit too much in her early years.
“Honestly? Anything but this book.” I grunted. “I was just admiring how you’ve grown. You were always cute, but now you’re . . . majestic. I’ve never seen an owl with your markings or color.”
She cocked her head. “You come from the mainland and are surprised the Daughter of Magic wears gold?”
“I suppose that makes sense. Still, you’re stunning, and you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Thank you for bonding with me, for taking a chance on me before . . . before I even knew I was worth taking a chance on.”
She tottered toward me and hopped onto the open book. “Listen to me, Declan Rea. You were never a chance. There has never been a more worthy heir, and I count myself lucky to have you in my life.”
I was stunned by the sincerity and ferocity in her voice. My eyes misted as I reached over to stroke her feathers.
“C’mon, dude. Don’t make this weirder than it just was,” she squawked.
I laughed and shook my head, then stroked her feathers anyway.
She pressed into my palm.
“Love you, too, Dec.”