Chapter 34
Talisa
I pushed through the infirmary tent’s canvas flap, Elio at my heels. The sudden warmth hit me like a physical wall after the chilly breeze outside.
The interior smelled of clove oil and herbal wound-wash, just like our clinic back home. An intense wave of homesickness ambushed me.
I wished I were back in Bernswick right now, sitting by the fire and playing cards with my parents and sisters while snow blanketed the gardens and rooftops throughout our village.
Jacinthe would be grimacing down at her hand.
She was a terrible card player, but always lost with a cheerful smile.
Mama’s expression would be serene, as usual.
It was always impossible to tell whether she held a winning hand or a losing one.
Papa on the other hand, was even easier to read than Jacinthe, and got sulky when he lost a round.
But of course, even if I could teleport back to the island right now, Mama wouldn’t be there. She’s never coming home again…
“Talisa?” Elio stopped and looked down at me with a concerned expression.
“It’s nothing.” I wiped angrily at my eyes and looked for my sisters.
I spotted Mira sitting next to Juno’s cot at the far side of the tent. They were the infirmary’s only patients so far today.
Mage-Healer Arsinoe intercepted us before we’d taken three steps into the tent.
“She’ll be fine,” she said, not bothering with empty greetings.
Like any competent healer, she knew what we needed to hear.
“Divine Mother be thanked.” My voice broke and my knees went weak with relief. I sagged, and Elio caught me with an arm around my waist.
“How badly was she hurt?” I asked, grateful for his support. “It looked like her ribs might’ve broken, and maybe her arm, too.”
Arsinoe studied my face for a moment. Her expression softened. “I remember you telling me that your parents are both mage-healers. I won’t mince words, then.”
I nodded. I needed to hear the unvarnished truth from her.
“Clean break in her left humerus. Four fractured ribs on the left side, one of which punctured her lung. Hairline fracture of her pelvis. Significant internal bleeding from a lacerated spleen.” Arsinoe’s tone was matter-of-fact, ticking each injury off on her fingers.
Mama spoke the same way when delivering hard news.
“We’ve sealed the lung, repaired the spleen, set and fused the bones.
Internal bleeding is controlled. She’ll be bruised all the way down her left side, short of breath for a week or two, and sore enough that walking and using her left arm will be unpleasant.
But I expect her to make a full recovery. ”
Hearing textbook terms applied to my little sister made my stomach clench.
“You’re certain?” I heard myself ask. “I’m concerned about the spleen, especially if there was bleeding.”
“It’s intact and functional.” Arsinoe’s mouth quirked. “Your sister has the constitution of a draft horse and the benefit of a lifetime of good nutrition and physical fitness. She’ll be fine. I give you my solemn word as a mage-healer.”
“Divine Mother be thanked. Can I see her?”
“Of course.” Arsinoe smiled at me. “Maybe you can distract her from arguing with my apprentices about whether she needs a dose of syrup of poppies or just willow-bark extract. I suspect she’ll change her mind if she tries to get any sleep tonight with just the willow bark.
” Arsinoe gestured toward the back of the tent.
“Try not to excite her too much. Her side is extremely tender, and laughing or shouting will hurt.”
I was striding towards my sisters before she’d finished speaking. Elio hesitated, his arm still around me, and I pulled him with me.
“Talisa!” Mira exclaimed. “You came!”
Juno sat propped against a stack of oilcloth-wrapped pillows, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, her left arm caught across her chest in a linen sling. A blanket covered her from the waist down, but I could see the outline of bandages beneath her sturdy linen chemise, wrapping her ribs.
She looked small and dangerously fragile against the heap of pillows.
But her eyes were bright and alert, and the moment she saw me, her mouth split into that familiar, reckless grin.
“I feel like I lost a kicking contest with old Godric Miller’s mule. I’m going to look as purple and green as a summer thundercloud tomorrow,” she said. Her voice was hoarse, each word punctuated by a shallow, careful breath.
Mira sat on a low stool beside the cot, her arms wrapped around herself and a thick wool blanket draped around her drooping shoulders.
She was trembling with the intermittent, violent shudders of delayed shock.
The bleeding cut on her cheek had been healed.
Only a thin pink line remained, but her eyes were hollow.
I went to them. I bent over Juno and gently pressed my lips to her forehead, feeling the faint, persistent hum of a healing charm working just beneath her skin. Then I gathered Mira’s slight frame against my chest, feeling tremors run through her body as she buried her face in the side of my neck.
“I was so scared,” Mira whispered. “I thought—when I heard her bones crack—”
She shuddered.
“I’m all better now,” Juno tried to sit up straighter and winced, one hand flying to her ribs. “Really. It looks worse than it is. Mage-Healer Arsinoe says I’ll be back to normal in a week or two.”
“You nearly died, Juno. Don’t you understand that?” Mira spat, turning her head to glare at her twin.
She still clung to me, and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close.
“Mage-Healer Arsinoe told me you had a punctured lung, a lacerated spleen with internal bleeding, and multiple broken bones.” The words tasted like metal on my tongue.
Juno’s grin didn’t falter, but I saw a flash of genuine fear in her eyes, quickly buried. “Well, I didn’t die. And I’ll be fine.”
That only seemed to make Mira angrier. “When I cast the first-aid spell on you—when I was trying to stop the bleeding—I felt everything.” Her fingers twisted in the fabric of my gown.
“Your heartbeat. Your breathing. The pain. It was like—like we were the same person for a moment. I felt your heart stuttering. And how hard it was for you to breathe. I felt it.”
It sounded like the same connection I’d experienced with Elio, like a door opening between separate rooms that had no business being connected.
“I feel it too,” I murmured. “With Elio. It’s like—”
“Like sharing a body,” Mira finished. Her eyes lifted to mine, wide and frightened. “Is that normal? Mama and Papa never talked about anything like that.”
“No.” The word came out harsher than I’d intended. “No, it’s not normal at all. At least, not according to any textbook I’ve ever read.”
Elio was watching us, his usual confidence momentarily stripped away, replaced by something thoughtful and uneasy.
“Well,” Juno said after a moment, “at least it’s useful. Right?” She attempted a shrug with her good shoulder and immediately regretted it, hissing through her teeth. “So. Silver lining.”
I wanted to hug her again. I settled for squeezing her uninjured hand instead, feeling the warmth of her fingers against mine and the faint, persistent tremor that ran through them.
“How did your match go?” Mira asked, clearly desperate to change the subject. “Did you win?”
“We did,” Elio said, his usual grin returning. “Only took us five minutes. I froze their home base and then Talisa blew them off it. It was spectacular.”
Juno’s face lit up. “You froze it? With Water magic? That’s brilliant.” She turned to me, wincing as the movement pulled at her bandaged ribs. “I knew you’d beat them. Dante’s good, but he’s predictable.”
We chatted for a while. Juno demanded increasingly elaborate details about the match. Mira gradually looked less shock-ridden and even laughed when Elio embellished his account of our match against Dante and Mavia with characteristic flair.
Then the amphitheater bell rang.
The sound carried clearly through the tent’s canvas walls—three long, resonant peals that signaled the end of the fourth and final match of the quarter-finals. The awards ceremony would start shortly.
I looked at Juno.
“I’m sorry, but we have to go,” I said. “Assistant Chatelaine Julissa made it very clear that quarter-final victors are required to attend the awards ceremony.”
Juno waved her good hand dismissively. “Go. Wouldn’t want her to fine us again,” she said bitterly. She added, “I’ll be right here, annoying the healers.”
I heard an infirmary apprentice chuckle at that.
Mira said nothing. She just reached for my hand and squeezed it, hard enough to hurt.
I squeezed back. Then I bent, kissed Juno again, and turned to go.
Elio fell into step beside me as we pushed through the tent flap and back into the cold.
“Your sisters,” Elio said quietly as we walked, “are so brave and strong. Are all islanders as tough as you three?”
Surprised by his comment, I shook my head. “I feel anything but tough at the moment. And I think the twins are pretty fragile right now.”
“I beg to disagree,” he said. “You three are tougher than any of those aristos, that’s for sure. Now, let’s go collect our medals and our prizes.”
∞∞∞
The winner’s dais had been erected in the center of the arena floor, a simple raised platform of dark wood with poles displaying the academy’s blue and gold banners.
The other winners hadn’t yet assembled as Elio and I climbed the three shallow steps. At least we wouldn’t incur Assistant Julissa’s wrath by being late to the awards ceremony. The herald directed us to stand at the far left of the dais.
The day-trippers in the audience had already departed, leaving the amphitheater’s seating emptied. The commoner sections had thinned to perhaps a third of their earlier numbers, students lingering in clusters, some of them waving when they spotted us.
However, the dignitaries’ box remained occupied by the academy’s administrators and staff sitting with today’s official visitors in uniforms or formal court dress.