Chapter 24
Worst-case Scenario
It worked.
Ansel yanks a stool out from under the workbench with his foot and none-too-gently guides me toward it. “Sit down. You look like you’re going to pass out.”
I plop onto the stool, feeling numb, and drag my gaze to Rowan. He’s still connected to the dust pendant, but he leans against the workbench, shoulders rounded and face pale.
“Break away from the cache,” Ansel instructs. When Rowan doesn’t respond, he growls, “I don’t want to break the pendant and release that magic in my workshop. You’re going to have to disengage.”
With a groan, Rowan mutters something, flicks his wand, and the link between him and the dust pendant vanishes.
I watch, fear lodged in my heart, terrified for him. What’s he going through right now? What nightmares are playing through his head?
Ansel roughly grabs him by the shoulders and all but drags him toward the hearth. “Drain your magic. Get it out of your system.”
Rowan leans on him, unable to support his own weight, and weakly raises his wand. A second later, he casts the torch spell. Instead of normal flames, these are tinged silver. Heat spreads, along with a heavy, ominous feeling of foreboding that must be a side effect of burning off the pixie dust.
“Watch it!” Ansel yells, lifting Rowan’s arm when it begins to drift down. “You’ll set the whole place on fire!”
“Can’t,” Rowan croaks, slumped against Ansel. “No more.”
“Don’t kill yourself, but get out as much as you can,” Ansel instructs. “You don’t want the pixie dust lingering.”
I twist my hands in my lap, helpless.
Rowan’s fire sputters, nearing its end, and then snuffs out completely.
His legs give out, and he nearly drags Ansel to the floor with him. He drops his wand as he crumples. It lands with a clatter and then rolls under a side bench.
I leap from my stool. “What happened? Is he okay?”
“He’s just passed out,” Ansel says calmly as he lowers Rowan to the floor. “It’s almost impossible to drain your magic to the point it will kill you, because you’ll almost always fall unconscious first. He should wake up in a few minutes.”
I reach for his wrist and then panic. “I don’t feel a pulse!”
“You’re not even checking the right spot.” Ansel takes over, pressing two fingers to Rowan’s wrist. After a moment, he nods. “He’s fine.”
Marginally relieved, I sit back on my heels. “You’re sure he’s going to be okay?”
“Pretty sure,” Ansel says, being too honest again. “I’m not a healer, so I can’t say for certain.”
I drop my head into my hands, breathing hard. This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. Why did we do this?
If Rowan doesn’t wake up, I’ll never be able to tell him that I still love him. If he doesn’t wake up, I’ll never know if he loves me.
“So…” Ansel says, attempting to fill the silence. “How do you feel? Still bonded?”
“No.” I drop my hands and stare blankly at the sorcerer. “My magic recoiled from the shadow pixie magic, just like you said it would. I felt the bond separate.”
“It worked!” Ansel exclaims, undaunted by Rowan’s unconscious form between us. “That’s excellent news.”
“Excellent,” I repeat, my tone flat.
Ansel looks down at Rowan with a frown and gives his shoulder a nudge. “It’s taking a while for him to wake up, isn’t it?”
“Is it?”
Ansel looks at the too-loud clock on the wall. “Let’s give him two more minutes.”
“And then what?” I whisper.
“And then we’re going to call the clinic.”
These are the longest two minutes of my entire life. I stare at the second hand as it makes its way around the face of the clock. The moment it’s made two full journeys, I look back at Ansel. “He’s not awake.”
Ansel groans out a curse and pulls his phone from his pocket. He hits a number in his contacts and seconds later says, “It’s Ansel from Moss Hollow Rocks and Gems. I need a healer.”
“You said worst-case scenario!” I whisper to Ansel from the waiting room of the Moss Hollow Clinic.
“He’s not trapped in an endless string of nightmares,” the sorcerer argues. “He’s just a little unconscious.”
“A little?”
“For all we know, this is a side effect of tampering with the bond magic. It won’t affect a pixie the same way it’ll affect a shifter.”
“So this is my fault?” I whisper-hiss.
The sorcerer rolls his eyes. “Would you calm down? The healer said he’s fine.”
Rowan is in the back room where they treat fae patients, in a separate area away from the human rooms.
The Moss Hollow Clinic looks like any other human clinic. If you didn’t know better, you’d never guess the doctors and nurses are all fae. Like Ash practices both human and fae law, the clinic provides both human and fae medical care.
The door opens, and Anna rushes inside, wet from the rain but apparently unbothered by it. She makes a beeline for us when she finds us standing near the single-serve coffee maker. “Where is he?”
“They have him in the back,” Ansel says. “They’re with him now.”
She blinks several times and then composes herself. “Can I see him?”
“They kicked us out, but they might let you stay with him since you’re family.”
“My mom’s on her way,” Anna says. “Gideon was in the middle of a meeting in Albany when you called, but he’s coming, too.”
“What about—”
Before I can finish the sentence, Ash walks through the door and demands, “What happened?”
I let Ansel explain the situation. We probably look like a suspicious bunch, all huddled in the corner, speaking in hushed whispers so the few humans sharing the space with us don’t overhear.
“Did you tell the doctor about the shadow pixie magic?” Ash demands, keeping his voice low.
“Not yet,” Ansel admits. “I wasn’t sure what kind of trouble that might get him into.”
“If he doesn’t wake up, you’re going to have to let them know what you were tampering with,” Ash says. “I can work with a fine, but I can’t do anything if he’s dead.”
I gasp, and Ansel shoots Ash a look. “He’s not dying.”
“I’m just saying—”
A nurse opens the door, and we turn to her, waiting for news. She’s a wolf shifter, not quite thirty, with pretty silver hair. I’ve seen her a few times in the tea shop.
Her eyes immediately go to our group. “Rowan just woke up.”
I grasp Ansel’s shoulder to steady myself.
Anna steps forward. “Can we see him?”
“Yes, but the doctor said family only.” She gives me an apologetic look. “Ansel, you and Kit can come back in the morning.”
My heart sinks. “Tomorrow?”
She gives me a sympathetic smile. “He’s okay. The doctor said he’ll be fine. She’s going to run a few tests on him, so she wants to keep him overnight, but she said he can go home tomorrow.”
Relief wars with disappointment. I’m so glad he’s okay, but we need to talk.
I guess I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see if he still loves me.
Ash and Anna follow the nurse into the back, and I stand here, dejected.
Ansel gives me a nudge. “Hey.”
Startled, I look over.
“It’s time to go home.”
“Okay.” I don’t move.
“You’re not going to sleep in the waiting room,” he says.
“I doubt I’d be able to sleep anyway.”
“I’m calling a ride for you.”
“No, it’s fine…” I trail off because he’s already doing it.
“I’ll wait with you until the driver gets here.”
“That’s all right. You can go home.”
He studies me. “How are you doing? Any lingering effects from breaking the bond?”
I shake my head. “I feel fine.”
Just lonely—and I don’t like it. I miss the magic that connected me to Rowan. It was comforting and quiet, and though I didn’t notice it when it showed up, I can feel its absence now.
Ansel and I wait in silence until a horse and cart pulls up in front of the clinic, and then the sorcerer walks me outside. The wet concrete walkways glisten in the clinic’s outdoor lights. A steady drizzle continues to fall, but the storm is quieter now than it was earlier.
“Evening, Kit,” Hudson says from the cart’s protective cover. He’s driving a cabriole like Ash’s tonight. “Heading home?”
I nod, getting into the cart.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Ansel lingers next to the step, uncomfortable. “Let me know if you notice anything weird.”
“I’ll call you if I need you.”
“Did something happen?” Hudson asks as we start down the street, casting a concerned look back at the clinic.
“Rowan and Ansel were messing with magic,” I say.
“Rowan’s not with you. Is he all right?”
“The doctor said he’ll be fine.”
I pull my phone from my purse and text him, hoping everyone will leave him alone long enough that he can respond.
But my phone is silent for the entire ride home.