Chapter 11
Jane
Joy perched on the cushioned chair, her arms locked tight around her folded legs, her gaze fixed on the far corner of the infirmary.
Our hope had thinned into a persistent ache, wearing itself down with every day Father didn’t wake. Still, we came. We waited for Hildegard with an expectation that was beginning to feel less like optimism and more like hoping for a miracle.
I picked absently at my nails as the silence stretched.
My attention drifted to the far end of the infirmary, where two healers worked over a trio of battle mages.
The blinds stood open, sunlight spilling across their beds.
One of the patients laughed as a healer pressed a syringe into his arm. I couldn’t see the wound from here.
“Do you still have enough of your pills?” I asked quietly.
Joy nodded once, her gaze never leaving the corner she had chosen.
“For how long?”
A pause. “Four more days.”
“That’s not much,” I said, keeping my voice even. “We should show Hildegard the bottle. Ask how we can get more.”
She always carried enough of her pills to last until the pharmacies in Erhfurt restocked. She planned for that.
The infirmary doors swung open, and Hildegard strode in. “You’re early,” she said, glancing between us.
“Anything?” I asked, rising from the couch to meet her at my father’s bedside.
Her answer was brisk. “There has been no change in his condition.”
Like all healers, her expression betrayed nothing but calm assurance.
“Thank you,” I said. “If you have time, we could use your help with a few things.”
“Of course.”
Hildegard had been kind to us. She always explained his condition, always answered our questions.
Once, while examining me, she had offered to remove the scar that still marked my skin from that day, even after Finn had healed me.
I had refused then, unwilling to leave my sister’s side for a moment longer than necessary.
When Joy made no move to speak, I explained the medication she took and asked how we might access more while we were here.
“I will need to know the exact components before I can provide an alternative,” Hildegard said, studying us both. “But we can certainly offer something comparable. May I ask what your diagnosis is?”
Joy finally shifted. Her head turned toward the healer. “Why do you need to know if you have the bottle?”
Hildegard didn’t hesitate. “Mageborn don’t rely on the same medicines as humans. Our remedies are composed differently, designed to sustain health and extend longevity. I need to ensure your medication will not conflict with what is already being integrated into your food.”
That drew a reaction.
Joy straightened, brown eyes tightening at the corners. “What do you mean, integrated in the food?” she asked.
Joy loved to cook. She loved guessing what ingredients were in the dishes and making recipes of her own. For a moment, I thought this was simple curiosity. Then the implication settled in.
“I imagine you haven’t been told yet,” Hildegard said.
“The food you eat here looks the same and tastes the same, but it is not prepared the way you are accustomed to. Arcanists long ago developed methods to remove harmful substances such as heavy metals, replacing them with compounds that preserve and strengthen the body. Those compounds are now part of all mageborn nutrition.”
“So everything we have been eating here,” I said slowly, “helps us live longer?”
She inclined her head. “It is a contributing factor, yes. But prolonged contact with mana also sustains longevity. Perhaps we should check if it’s even necessary to continue Joy’s medication.”
“You think I’m taking it without need?” Joy asked. “You have no idea what it takes to cure my condition.”
Hildegard’s seasoned expression didn’t shift.
“I have seen cases like yours before. Repressing one’s own mana is not uncommon, particularly among those with a strong access.
It can grant you remarkable skills, but it often comes at a cost of your energy.
Emotional reactions are harder to regulate, and the emotion I encounter most frequently in patients with strong access is fear. ”
She paused, reading Joy’s stillness. A faint flush crept across my sister’s cheeks, and my stomach tightened in answer.
“It’s difficult, isn’t it?” Hildegard asked. “To feel out of control.”
Joy didn’t move. Only the small, involuntary bob of her throat betrayed her.
“Your human physician wouldn’t have recognised this,” Hildegard said gently. “If that is the case, Miss Darling, there are ways to help you manage it alongside the medication. But there is nothing to cure. There is nothing wrong.”
Joy stood rigid as ice before tilting her head. “You and your assumptions are wrong.”
I exhaled. “Excuse my sister,” I said, turning to the healer. “She hasn’t slept, and this is…a lot to take in. Thank you for explaining it. Perhaps we can return later with her medication?”
“Of course, My Lady,” Hildegard replied. “If that is all, I will check on my other patients.”
She left us, and I was too stunned to reply.
Once she was out of earshot, Joy turned back to me. “We are being drugged at every meal, and no one thought to inform us.”
“That’s not what she said,” I replied. “She said they remove harmful substances. That doesn’t sound sinister. And maybe you could try not being impossible.”
Her eyes flicked to mine. “Why do you always defend them?”
“Why do you have a problem with everything?” I asked. “Could you just make it easier, for once?”
I regretted my words immediately, noticing as her shoulders lifted in a long breath.
She rose without another word, and we headed for the door together.
Cleaving herself from the life she'd built wouldn’t be an easy task. She wanted me to want to return to Erhfurt with her, as if nothing had changed. I couldn’t explain the hollow pit that opened in me at the thought.
“Are you ready for the lessons now?” I asked over my shoulder as we walked.
She didn’t reply.
“It is a little frightening,” I went on. “Don’t you think?”
Her fists clenched, her pace slowing by half a step. “I don’t want to discover more unsettling things about myself.”
I nodded. “The cat was unsettling.”
A reluctant smile formed on her lips. After a moment, she asked quietly, “Do you think Father knew?”
I drew a long breath. “I don’t know. I’ve been asking myself the same thing, and I can’t make sense of it.”
“You haven’t shown anything like my…episodes.” She hesitated, searching for the word. “Do you think that means something?”
My brows lifted. “Like we’re not sisters or something?
No. Joy, we look alike.” I brushed my thumb over her freckles, mirrors of my own.
It was a fair question, even if I refused to entertain it.
“You’re my sister. And Caedmon believes I’ll be able to wield with time.
Maybe not like you. Even he is afraid of you. ”
Her mouth curved faintly, pride flickering briefly. “That is why I am open to the lessons,” she said, her gaze dropping to the floor. “If they can help me control this thing, I want that.”
“Maybe you could start by not calling it a thing,” I suggested, my attention catching on the relic necklace on her neck. “Does it help to wear that?”
She nodded, but squeezed my hand, her grip tight with tension. “I want to learn to control it because… The healer wasn’t completely wrong.”