Quinn
Ilooked up from my work to find the laboratory empty, although I had no idea when Tobias slipped away. He was unnaturally quiet on his feet. We barely said two words to each other after visiting Eva this morning outside of my instructions on how to assist me in the lab and a few brief questions.
I caught him watching me more than once.
He hadn’t said anything about the extent of Eva’s decline, like he knew that bringing it up or breaking my concentration would add to my already overwhelming anxiety.
My nerves buzzed like static beneath my skin, the weight of a thousand what-ifs pressing down on my shoulders.
Closing my eyes, I sucked in a steadying breath.
A reddish glint flashed through the crack in my eyelids.
It took me a long moment to realize that a missive had appeared in front of me, that flash of light from the magical method of its arrival.
Before the note could hit the ground, I snatched it from the air, immediately recognizing the distinctive letterhead of the Enclave.
I had been corresponding with Dolion long enough to recognize his handwriting, though it looked more cramped than usual—different, like he wrote it in a hurry. With everything going on, I almost forgot that I had sent him a rundown of Eva’s ailment, as well as my thoughts on an approach to a cure.
Dolion reminded me of many medical researchers I knew back in the human realm: kindhearted but clinical to the point of detachment.
When I started to share my research into medicine and magic with him, I had expected some opposition to my methodology—after all, I was trained in the human realm, where practices and principles differed greatly from those of this world.
Instead of considering my research radical, Dolion had written back almost immediately to share his thoughts on my initial experiments, an entire dissertation about his own research, and to formally offer me a position at the Enclave.
It had been a relief to realize there was an entire group of people in this realm who shared my interests; however, I had politely declined. Soleara was my true home, and I wasn’t ready to leave it just yet. Not when it, Eva, and a certain broody king needed me.
I hadn’t stopped my personal research, nor my messages to Dolion keeping him updated.
Though our letters had grown sporadic, especially lately, it was fascinating to discover how this realm’s healers compared to the doctors and researchers I studied with in the human world.
It reminded me of my life before the mirror, of the researchers more at home in their labs than the outside world even as they unraveled the secrets of its microscopic wonders.
Dolion helpfully sent several tomes about how to use magic for diagnosis and detection, though fae ailments were considerably rarer.
His postscript often contained a reminder that his offer to join him in his research remained open should I change my mind.
Today’s dispatch was much briefer than most. Dolion’s message about Eva’s condition was edged with concern, his tone short even for him.
It was obvious he didn’t think I could do this without help—his help, if I read between the lines.
He was likely right, considering his knowledge of fae viruses.
If he were to assist me effectively, he would need access to Eva’s bloodwork, not just copies of my findings.
Dolion had been fascinated by the human methods of using blood for diagnosis and treatment, though he too had warned me to be careful who I shared my methodology with due to the dark associations with blood magic.
It hadn’t stopped him from writing though, even as I guiltily skirted around the subject in my responses.
It also hadn’t stopped his regular invitations to visit the Enclave.
While I had always planned to go once things in Soleara had settled down, I wished it would finally happen under better circumstances.
I blinked at the clock ticking on the wall. It was late for him to be writing to me. I had worked right through dinner, based on how dark it was outside.
Maybe Tobias had left to find something to eat or get some sleep after last night’s marathon.
As if thinking his name had summoned him, the door swung open. Tobias stood there, holding a tray full of food that made me immediately ravenous.
I was already shaking my head. “You can’t bring that in here. You’ll contaminate the lab.”
“Then come have a quick snack before you continue working yourself to the bone.” Tobias tilted the tray slightly to show off its contents, looking slightly abashed as he added, “…or a full dinner. I got a few of your favorites.”
He had—and not just my favorites from childhood.
There were creamy noodles with extra grated cheese and toasted garlic bread, a salad made of roasted beets, goat cheese, and sliced citrus, and an assortment of fruit alongside chocolate tarts I recognized as Rivan’s mother’s recipe.
Last but not least was a Solearan dish I had grown fond of: strawberries wrapped in sweet dough and steamed like dumplings.
When had he even noticed?
My stomach grumbled loudly enough that Tobias’s lips twitched.
“Thank you,” I said, hoping the exhaustion in my voice didn’t diminish my sincerity. “Let me finish something up and then I will.”
“Can I help?”
I smiled as I shook my head. Tobias had been saying those three words all day.
It was more than that though—it wasn’t just that he listened to what I needed, he paid attention.
He had been my shadow in the lab, fetching anything I needed, taking measurements, and preparing samples.
His notes were immaculate, he never had to be asked for something twice, and when I explained how to do something, he jotted down the answer so that I didn’t have to repeat myself.
Best of all, he was able to anticipate the next step based on what we had already done, figuring out what needed to happen next without me asking.
Like bringing me dinner before I even mentioned I was hungry.
“It won’t take long, I promise. As much as I want to keep working, tired eyes make mistakes.” It was a phrase one of my professors was fond of back in college. “And we don’t have room for those right now.”
Taking a dinner break is exactly what I needed. Leaning over the counter, I quickly finished updating my notes, though Tobias had already filled in the majority of it. I would send a copy to Dolion in the morning.
My task completed, I gave Tobias a nod, stifling a yawn.
We walked in silence up the stairwell, finding a quiet spot near the kitchen.
Tobias ignored the long wooden table in the center of the room, though it was empty at this hour, instead crossing the room to where a small, two-person table was half hidden in an alcove.
Setting down the tray, Tobias made a gesture for me to dig in before disappearing into the kitchen.
When he returned, it was with a steaming pot of tea and two porcelain mugs.
He looked far too serious as he drizzled some honey into each cup as he waited for the tea to steep, wholly focused on his task.
Tobias’s guard was down for once. His face was still, softer somehow, stripped of the defenses that usually rose from my attention.
I studied the lines around his mouth, the faint scar by his temple, the shadows under his eyes—details I usually didn’t dare to linger on.
It made me realize how much effort he spent holding himself together in front of me, as if any vulnerability was a weakness he couldn’t afford
He looked up, and I bit into a strawberry dumpling a bit too eagerly. An explosion of sweet liquid only partially made it into my mouth. Tobias started pouring the tea as I happily sucked the strawberry juice off my fingers.
“These are heavenly,” I gushed. “You have to try one.”
“Hmm?” Tobias’s eyes flicked up from where they were fixed on my lips, a hint of his light sparking in their depths. Then he swore under his breath as the cup he was filling overflowed, the tea scalding his fingers. “Sorry, what did you—”
I pushed the bowl toward him in a wordless offer. We used to share snacks after school beneath the giant oak tree behind his house. Sometimes we would climb it, and I would drop pieces of popcorn or orange slices down from my branch to his, Eva and I cheering if he caught it in his mouth.
He shook his head. “That’s for you.”
“You brought more than enough for both of us.” I pouted at him, refusing to be deterred. “Don’t make me eat alone.”
Tobias sighed as he gave in, somehow eating the doughy strawberry without getting it all over himself. I didn’t miss his soft moan of appreciation, or the way my skin pebbled in response.
“You’re good at this,” I said, quickly clarifying, “The research, that is.”
“You’re a good teacher,” Tobias said, his tongue darting out to lick a drop of strawberry juice from his bottom lip. “You’re the one who’s good at this. I’m just lucky enough to learn from you.”
Realizing I was the one now staring at his lips, I quickly refocused my gaze upward.
Plenty of the people I dated—mostly the men—had been intimidated by my career and ambition.
The way Tobias looked at me, the pride and genuine appreciation in his tone, made me realize how rare it was for that respect to be given so easily.
He knew I knew more than him and hadn’t once considered being threatened by it.
Not that we were dating.
My mouth quirked. “Given my magic, it would be unfortunate if I wasn’t good at it.”
“No,” he said firmly. “It’s more than that. There are plenty of people with skills they aren’t patient enough to teach or who lack the understanding to explain things in a way that’s easy to understand.”
“When you were…” I hesitated, my voice catching slightly.
“…gone. I was working on my doctorate in biomedical sciences and molecular medicine. Plenty of time spent in labs with lots of professors and researchers. Some were brilliant but short-tempered…and some were smart and kind and inspiring. I was fortunate to have a few good examples to learn from.” I smiled, thinking of a mentor who had taken me under her wing when I was new and unsure of myself, who I had instinctively modeled my teaching style from.
“Not just how best to teach. She reminded me to look deeper, to ask why, to not settle for surface answers.”
Tobias leaned closer. “It’s no wonder your magic is healing. It must have been a relief when you could finally wield it.”
I blushed at the compliment even as part of me cringed away from the double edge of that sword—the one he didn’t even know he was wielding.
“Thanks,” I said weakly. “Healing…it’s art and magic, knowledge and passion, power and patience.
” It was, in short, everything I loved. “It’s one thing to have power, it’s another thing entirely to run your magic through another being.
To let it beat in their heart and breathe into their lungs.
To mend with a mere impulse. To be able to save someone’s life just by willing it.
” Tobias watched me intently though his expression remained unreadable.
“And of course, there’s something special about helping those who need it.
I’m glad healing is a more common magic, especially since I have more to learn.
” I picked up my mug, taking a sip. Tobias had added the perfect amount of honey.
“I’m babbling. I must be more tired than I thought…
and there’s still more I need to do tonight. ”
“Don’t apologize.” He frowned at me, albeit fleetingly. “It’s honestly amazing.”
I tilted my head in question. “What is?”
“Your utter lack of ego.” Tobias’s gaze was sharp and unblinking, as if he was dissecting me with his eyes.
“You make it sound like your abilities fell into your lap, but while you may have been given your magic, you’ve obviously worked hard for the knowledge that makes you so good at it.
And though healing magic might be common, the way you use it—working into the night on your projects after spending your days helping everyone else with whatever they need—isn’t.
” He leaned closer, and smoke and cedar filled my nose.
His voice lowered as he drawled, “Have you ever done something purely for yourself, Sagray?”
“I’m plenty selfish, Maris,” I retorted, unsure why I suddenly felt so defensive. “Though I can’t afford to be right now.”
Tobias took a bite of an apple, swallowing before he said, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“I’m doing what anyone would do in my situation, and with my skills,” I argued, still feeling vaguely put out.
“The fact that you think that anyone would put their life on hold to save someone else is admirable in itself, if a bit na?ve.” Tobias topped off my tea before pouring himself another cup. “After all, we both know you’d do this for anyone, not just Eva.”
I hated how cynical he sounded. How certain he seemed that good people were the exception and not the rule.
“If I’m na?ve, then you’re jaded.”
He shrugged. “We’re a product of our experiences. I have a right to be. What confuses me is that you aren’t.”
Something dark roiled inside my veins, begging to be released. “Maybe I don’t feel the need to let my trauma define me.”
Light whited out Tobias’s pupils. It faded so quickly I almost thought I imagined it.
“Maybe,” he replied noncommittally. But his pulse jumped just below his jawline, giving his game away.
I downed the rest of my tea in a gulp that burned the back of my throat.
“We should get back to it,” I said, biting back my annoyance. “That is, if you’re done telling me the way the world works?”
If only he knew not to put me on a pedestal. His opinion of me—that I was some sort of martyr, apparently—would vanish the second he knew what I was really capable of, especially after what he had been forced to endure.
“Sagray, I didn’t mean to offend—”
I got to my feet, refusing to meet his eye. “You didn’t.”
The words tasted bitter in my throat, like the tea had steeped too long.
Tobias quickly stood, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I-I just meant…”
“I don’t need this from you too right now,” I snapped.
He jerked back so abruptly it was if I had slapped him.
Don’t you dare cry, I told myself even as I felt a sharp prick behind my eyes. I needed to get out of here before my frustration turned into tears. “I don’t have time to have tea with you while Eva’s suffering. I don’t have time for any of this.”
I spun on a heel and stomped down the hallway. The hurt on his face followed me down the spiral staircase along with his footsteps—though I knew if I turned back around, he would already have locked it away.