Chapter 60 Taera
Taera
The loopy effects of fixing the mirror wear off the day before exams. I cringe at how I acted, and wonder where Nikolai slept over the past couple days. I’m getting far too used to waking up in his bed…
My magician is nowhere to be found, but breakfast arrives.
As I eat, my thoughts flicker to tomorrow and panic wedges in my chest.
Omi knocks on the door, and it’s a welcome reprieve to follow them to the Healers’ Hall.
“I’m sorry you’ve been unwell,” Omi says. So that’s what Nikolai told them.
“Thanks,” I reply. “I’m doing great. No headaches anymore or anything.”
“Headaches?” Omi perks up, eyes bright with interest.
“I used to have them all the time, before I came here.” It’s easy to forget about them now the pain is gone.
They blink. “Before you arrived at the Halls of Glass?”
“Yeah.”
“Sands, Taera,” they mutter. “That’s… that’s a sign of too much magic. Your power can grow stagnant if you can’t let it out. Just how powerful are you?”
I feel uncomfortable, and shrug. It feels awkward to brag about my excess of magic when it’s not something I ever cared about before. It doesn’t help that Omi has admitted to me that they’re a weak source, that it’s something they’re insecure about.
We work quietly, side by side, on our list for the day. The recipe I’m filling requires more ink of argyle than I ever even possessed back at the apothecary. It reminds me, with a twist of my stomach, of Clarice, how she tried to save her father.
Omi would be the person to ask.
I glance at them. “Do you know anything about desert sickness?”
They frown. “I don’t. What are the symptoms?”
It immediately feels too hot in here; I wish I hadn’t brought it up.
“It’s brought on after a sandstorm, by the nightmares. Patients don’t die; they go mad. Eventually the desert calls them and they… go.” I swallow, my mouth growing dry. “It—it’s what I thought happened to my mother. Before I learned she was drained.”
Omi pales. “Taera, I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” I say quickly, still staring down at the same piece of paper.
Omi closes their mouth, their face still betraying their compassion. I can’t face it.
I clear my throat, shoving those memories back down and focusing on what’s in front of me. “I don’t recognize this draught.”
They glance down at it. “It’s for dreamless sleep.”
My hands still, heart quickening.
I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t.
When Omi steps out to fetch more stoppers, I scurry over to the folder and flip it open. I rifle past the first four healers’ notes until I find the name a third of the way down the page.
Nikolai Jamar Hugo.
Quickly, I close the folder. But my heart is beating faster than usual. After the nightmare, he told me he was taking precautions. It’s to keep me safe.
I’m a bit floaty. I make myself concentrate on my next task.
Omi and I work together cleanly and efficiently. I admire their attention to detail. At the end of our shift, they go to speak with the white-robed healer in charge, returning with a thick envelope.
“This is yours.” They hold it out to me. I’m surprised when its weight drops into my hand, and I can’t help but peer inside.
My eyes widen. “This is more than I expected.”
Omi grins. “You’re far better than a trainee, so I made sure you were compensated accordingly. You should consider becoming an apprentice, Taera. You’d make a really good healer.”
I swallow, tearing my gaze away from the coins. “Thank you, Omi.”
“Of course,” they say, before hurrying us out the door. I suspect my friend is worried I’ll hug them again, or burst into tears, which is a valid concern.
“Would you help me send the money?” I say, when I’m sure I won’t cry. “To my family?”
“Certainly.” Their smile quirks up. “I can send it for you right away.”
I return to Nikolai’s chambers, but he isn’t there.
I pace back and forth, uneasy and unable to settle.
I think about doing the textbook exercises again, but it seems futile.
I eventually open the faded blue book, flipping forward.
The book skips straight from chapter three to chapter five, making me frown, but I can’t focus clearly enough to digest any of the new material.
Nikolai told me to trust him, but I have no idea how he could possibly be ready for tomorrow.
Exams are one day away and he hasn’t trained with me once.
My breath leaves me in a huff. I have no other choice but to put my faith in the magician who’s lied to me again and again.
What’s worse is that I want to trust him.