Chapter Twenty-Three
I went to the infirmary, searching for Tara.
Several awaited students sat tending for their injuries, from minor bruising to slight concussions all the way to small lacerations.
Katherine lay on a hospital bed, her arm stretched across a stationed table as the school nurse stitched a cut along her forearm.
She avoided watching the magical stitches weave into her skin, sewing it together.
The pain was nonexistent thanks to the numbing rejuvenation our academy nurse possessed, but Katherine had convinced herself the pain would shoot through her body if she so much as glanced.
She wasn’t wrong. Pain was as much physical as it was psychological.
I’d had more than my share of minds to poll on that front.
“I’m so sorry,” Carter said, wishing he could offer assistance. He’d asked to aid Katherine with vitality, but our nurse explained the overlap of rejuvenation branches could cause complications, so he waited, pained and filled with guilt.
I worried his wide eyes and deep frown would become Carter’s default expression, washing away the carefree smile he had the first day at Gemini.
“It’s not a big deal,” Katherine said. “Won’t even scar.”
“Yeah, I get that. I just… I’m sorry we lost and…” Carter gulped. “ I screwed everything up. Katherine got slashed; I couldn’t heal her. Couldn’t take down the other team. I can’t do anything right. ”
“Excuse me?” Katherine tilted her head, and her glasses slid to the end of her nose. “We most certainly did not lose. We had a stalemate which is way better than most of the teams out there.”
“Carter, can I talk to you?” I stood beside him, eyeing the neighboring beds.
Perhaps Tara had closed off her curtain.
Or worse—the injuries she’d endured were more extreme than our standard infirmary for students.
Showcases did tend to overwhelm the three nurses staffed than the usual injuries throughout the school year.
“I’m busy with—”
“I’m fine, Carter.” Katherine smiled.
He begrudgingly stepped away and allowed the nurse to work. Unable to find the right small talk, I decided I needed to dive directly into this conversation.
“You’ll notice most of the work done here is medical, not magical.” I gently grabbed his shoulder, finally facing a conversation we needed to have months ago. “You’ve got an incredible branch. One you’ve had to find amazing versatility with and new capabilities in, which I blame myself for.”
“What? No. I should’ve—”
“You should never have been in that situation, having to stretch and manipulate the limits of your vitality. You found a way to help me when no one else could. I’m so proud of how much you’ve grown since arriving at Gemini, but you need to remember carrying the weight of the world doesn’t always make you a better or stronger witch.
Sometimes, it’s the very thing that’ll hold you back from success. ”
“I just”—Carter took a deep trembling breath—“want to make sure I do my best, my part, without giving up. I almost...”
Flashes and words flung in the air, surrounding Carter’s frightened mind from the task he’d been assigned during the warlock incursion.
His only job was to stop the bleeding, close the wounds, and save me.
So much blood flooded his mind. So much guilt for how each second he spent channeling his magic, he’d also considered running away.
All he wanted at that moment was to run and hide.
“But you didn’t,” I said, reeling Carter from his haunting thoughts. “In fact, you did quite the opposite.”
Carter’s eyes were glossy, holding back tears.
“I need you to stop holding onto what you could’ve done, what you wanted to do.
In that moment, you stepped up in a way that should’ve never been asked.
You didn’t hesitate. You doubted yourself, but that didn’t stop you.
You fought through your fear that day and accomplished the impossible.
But please, for me, for yourself, and for the benefit of everyone you’re going to help in the future…
stop holding on so tightly to fixing every situation. ”
Carter buried his face in his sleeve, sniffling. There was a long silence between us, but I listened to a few of the fears Carter clung to in his mind wash away with the sadness pouring from him. After wiping the worst of the tears, Carter wiped his splotchy face, and nodded.
We sat together while the nurse finished mending Katherine’s injuries. I didn’t press the discussion further, allowing Carter time to absorb and reflect on the words .
Caleb walked over, mind buzzing with concern for Tara, reminding me of the reason I’d come to the infirmary.
“I’m fine.” Katherine side-eyed Caleb’s scrunched expression and worried gaze. “I swear I’ve had bigger papercuts from my grimoire and wish everyone would stop apologizing. How’s Tara?”
“She’s okay.” Caleb shrugged. “Jamie was…”
“An asshole. I told you,” Katherine said. “Personally, and I do mean from every single person on the planet, I wish you would’ve broken more than his jaw.”
Caleb flinched. He wanted to agree because he despised Jamie, yet he worried indulging that type of philosophy would steer him away from his industry goals.
A guild witch, the best of them, ensured to do no harm.
That was what Caleb strove to achieve. I sighed.
He had so much to learn about the murky corruption of the industry he wanted to join.
A lesson for later in the year, perhaps.
Maybe I’d wait until they’d reached their second year.
As things settled between Katherine, Carter, and Caleb, I took my leave.
Making my way through the infirmary, I stepped into the hallway leading to the more intensive care areas.
Before I reached Tara’s room, I spotted Chanelle standing over Jamie as a nurse held his chin while drawing symbols along his fractured jaw.
The etchings wouldn’t heal the cracks but serve as a less intensive hold to mend the injuries as opposed to wiring his jaw shut.
Honestly, this was one time I wished we didn’t have magical-medical solutions.
The world would be a bit nicer if Jamie couldn’t talk for a few weeks.
I hung just outside the private room.
“Consider this a mild lesson in the importance of collaboration,” Chanelle said.
“Fuck that. He broke my jaw.”
“It’s not broken,” the nurse chimed in. “Well, mostly. You’re up; you’re talking. ”
“Unfortunately,” Chanelle muttered.
“He should still be disqualified for attacking his teammate.” Jamie snarled. “There’s gotta be a rule about that.”
“There are lots of rules in place for the Spring Showcase. You should know since I thoroughly explained them as you filled out and signed the forms during homeroom.”
Jamie scoffed.
“The behavior you displayed was absolutely uncalled for, and as such, I’m going to have to disqualify you from the finals.”
“What?” Jamie sprang forward, swatting the nurse’s hand from his face.
The searing pain running down his jaw and nestling along the nerves of his neck paled in comparison to the fury he had for what Mrs. Whitehurst announced so casually.
“You can’t disqualify me. Our team won, and I didn’t break any rules. ”
“I assuredly must disagree. As the moderator in this event and your homeroom instructor, it’s well within my authority to pull you from the Spring Showcase.
” Chanelle’s throat and chest tightened.
Doubt crept into her surface thoughts, fighting to maintain an impartial tone in her words, yet she worried this outcome resulted because she’d stretched herself too thin this semester.
Jamie was far from a favorite student, but she went out of her way to avoid his wrathful tendencies because, frankly, she didn’t see an answer to change his attitude, his entitlement.
“Your actions, behavior, and disregard went well beyond the code of ethics you signed. During the showcase, it’s your responsibility to uphold integrity, and during that match, you proved you have none.
I want to believe it’s there, buried somewhere underneath whatever that was today—unsportsmanlike conduct doesn’t even cover it.
But after what you displayed today, I can’t allow you to partake in an event that compromises yourself, your peers, or this academy. ”
“Get out!” Jamie’s face turned red. The nurse went to finish her healing, but he shouted, “I said get out! Everyone out! ”
His rage fumed, creating a crimson aura that pulsed with a pitch-black center.
Each thump of his heart radiated in his aura like a thunderstorm of blood only my magic could see.
Well, Jennifer’s too, but thankfully my empathic student avoided the infirmary for all the turmoil it carried from injured classmates.
Chanelle walked past me, wordless, enthusiasm lost, and mind spinning on a dozen different things she’d have to check off before filing Jamie’s disqualification paperwork so she could prepare for the finals at the end of the week.
“Do you need any help?” I asked.
“With what?” Chanelle turned with a smile on her face but not in her heart.
“Spring Showcase stuff.”
“From you? No. I’ll be fine.” Chanelle walked away.
I sighed. The aftermath of the semi-finals was more exhausting than the event itself.
There was still one person I needed to check on. The person I’d actually come here to talk with.
I made my way to another private room where a nurse had finished.
Tara’s cheeks were red. She had a prominent welt on her left cheek, bruising up her arms and legs, and most likely elsewhere.
A large scrape covered her right knee. Sigils were drawn on, and ointments had been applied.
Between the medicine and magic, Tara seemed relatively numb to the pain, though that might have been because she was often numb to the pain around her.
“I’m very proud of how you held yourself during the match.” I stared at the cast on Tara’s arm, regretting my hesitation.
“I lost.” Tara’s mind churned in a familiar motion when faced with failure and her part in it.
“But you didn’t give up. You didn’t back down. You held yourself with the same bravery as an industry witch would when faced against overwhelming odds.” I took the chair next to Tara’s bed. “And you did what no other student attempted during their match.”
“What’s that?”
“You resisted the dampening cuff.”
“It was only halfway on.”
“Which is enough for most witches. But your magic, for what it’s worth, refused to be contained.”
“Don’t remind me.” Tara frowned.
“Speaking of your magic. Can I ask you about the icicles?”
Tara blinked, unaware of their presence. There wasn’t an inkling of the casting in her surface thoughts, likely because she was fighting against the dampening cuff and Jamie’s cruel tactics and ended up lost in the heat of the moment.
“All I know is I tried using my telekinesis to push the water away.”
“Did you feel something primal? The only reason I’m asking is water to ice seems like elemental control within the primal branch.”
“Not sure.” Tara laughed, light, brief, but genuine.
“What’s so funny?”
“Just how I might have a fourth branch I never noticed because my control over the first three is so awful, I didn’t feel the tug of those magical tethers.”
“It could be new. Some branches blossom later in life while most branches develop at or before the start of adolescence; it’s possible for some not to reveal themselves until the late teens, even early twenties.”
Though every year past twelve, that likelihood of inheriting a branch significantly dropped.
“ By that logic, I could be gaining new branches I can’t control well into my thirties, ” Tara thought .
“Unlikely. Not sure I’ve ever heard of a case past twenty-two.”
Tara rolled her eyes, annoyed I’d commented on her inner thoughts and annoyed she let them slip by.
“It’s more likely they’ll just change or evolve as you learn more about them.”
Or, in my case, less. Christ, I still needed to gain a handle on my evolving branch before I could soundly offer advice to Tara on the topic.
“I’ll let you rest up,” I said, taking my leave.
After checking on all my students, those injured, those unharmed, those advancing to the finals, and those who lost during the semi- finals, I left work.
The day was long, and I wanted to get out of the bustling academy.
Oddly, I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go, though.
My phone buzzed. Milo. Perfectly timed—like he’d had clairvoyant insight into my feelings. Insufferable.
The last thing I wanted was a public outing, but it’d be nice to spend time with Milo, and he had worked hard on finding places not so infested with Enchanter Evergreen fans.