“I don’t know.” Sareem shook his head, and there was the tell-tale severity of concern in his ocean blue eyes as he looked at her. “But, I know you already had Autumn Fever when you were a girl, and it shouldn’t put you out for a week. Plus, I can see a bandage on your forearm.”
She snatched her hand back from his elbow quickly, pushing her sleeve down. Vhalla bit her lip. What could she say?
“If anyone asks about your fever, send them to me,” he instructed.
“Why?” Vhalla asked softly, the food in her stomach churning.
“Haven’t I told you before? You’re a bad liar.” Sareem shook his head. “It’ll be more convincing if you send them to me.”
“Why would you do that?” They stopped walking before her door, and Vhalla stared up at her friend.
“Because, it might help you,” he answered, glancing away. Something suddenly felt awkward. “I don’t know why you’re lying, Vhalla. But I trust that you wouldn’t be trying to if it weren’t important. If you ever need someone to talk to, I will be there.”
“Thank you, Sareem.” Vhalla shifted her feet.
To her surprise he raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles lightly. “Rest well, Vhalla,” Sareem whispered, before releasing her fingers and starting back toward the dining hall.
Vhalla was helpless to do little more than watch him go in a dumbfounded silence.
TWO DAYS CAME and went with such a normalcy that it seemed slightly surreal. Vhalla returned to almost all of her usual duties. The master gave her extra leeway in the mornings to help with her recovery. While Vhalla habitually woke with the dawn, she enjoyed the extra time to relax in bed and dressed at her leisure. It caused some guilt, but there was a good deal of that feeling lately as she felt no closer to her decision regarding the Tower.
Things with Sareem had not changed after her first night back. At times she could feel a strange stare coming from his direction. Sometimes he would sit closer than normal as they hid from work on her window seat. But neither were prepared to cross the line between them.
She began to look at him differently, forcing Vhalla to think back on Roan’s words. Vhalla had so readily dismissed her friend’s inquiry about a relationship, but now she thought of it during each of Sareem’s glances. Why was he paying so much attention to her? It piled on her list of everything she would eventually sort through.
So on her birthday, she slept past dawn, curled in bed with covers pulled up over her head. As custom, Mohned had given her the day off, and she took the opportunity to sleep in. She was almost completely healed, but her body still demanded additional rest.
Or rather, it would have demanded additional rest were it not for a knock on her door. Vhalla squinted open her eyes, hoping the person would go away. But after a few moments, the second knock pulled Vhalla to her feet.
She struggled to think of who it could be. The library staff was at work by now, and Vhalla didn’t have a large number of friends. Therefore, it shouldn’t have been any surprise who greeted her.
“Larel?” she exclaimed, looking at the other woman in the black coat.
“Hello, Vhalla.” Larel flashed one of her dazzling smiles. “May I come in? I wouldn’t want anyone to notice me when I’ve avoided being observed until now.”
Vhalla nodded and moved to the side to allow her friend to pass.
Larel walked into the small space and looked around. Vhalla’s room was little more than a bed, desk, chair, closet, and mirror, but Larel’s eyes went over each. She paused a moment, staring at the closet. Right as Vhalla was about to inquire what the other woman thought she saw, Larel turn with a clap of her hands.
“So! How are you feeling?” Larel led Vhalla back to the bed, and she played the patient obediently.
“Very well,” Vhalla responded.
“Good.” Larel pulled up the chair to sit across from her and started inspecting the last of Vhalla’s bruising. “You really have healed amazingly.”
This conversation felt very odd after returning to what Vhalla considered to be the real world. Intentionally or subconsciously, she had hardly given more than a passing thought to magic for almost three full days.
“Have you been experimenting?” Larel looked up from her medical diligence. Vhalla shook her head. “Any reason?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” Vhalla held up her leg for Larel to check the bandage on her calf.
“Hardly,” Larel remarked dryly.
“Hardly?” Vhalla tilted her head to the side, her hands stretched behind her on the small bed.
“You broke flame bulbs in the Tower,” the Western woman pointed out.
“Fritz was helping me,” Vhalla retorted. She instantly felt a pang of longing at the idea of seeing Fritz again.
“Oh, yes, Fritz is such an astounding teacher,” Larel laughed sarcastically.
Vhalla smiled despite herself, remembering the Southern man’s clumsy nature and efforts to help her understand magic. Larel may not understand, but after the minister and the prince, Vhalla thought Fritz was quite a good teacher.
“Maybe for the best though,” Larel continued at Vhalla’s silence. “Without a teacher overseeing your efforts, it could be dangerous now that you’re Awoken. Has anything strange happened?”
“Strange?” Vhalla repeated.
“Yes, strange. Since you’re not actively using magic, then I need to know if your powers are seeking any outlets, such as through your emotions.” Larel’s dark eyes held a severe note.
“Oh!” Vhalla shook her head and added, “No, nothing strange.” Vhalla paused and Larel did the same. Her eyes fell on her window. “Actually, the wind feels different now. I’ve kept my windows open a lot since coming back. Well, it’s hard to explain... Like there’s something in the air. Of course you can feel the wind but...”
“I understand; fire feels different to Firebearers.” Larel combed her fingers through her bangs. “I enjoy having fire around me. In the flames I don’t feel heat, but I do feel something there, like the essence of the flame.”
“You don’t feel heat?” Vhalla blinked.
“No.” Larel shook her head. “Fire can’t burn me unless it’s made by a much more powerful sorcerer.”
“I see,” Vhalla mused softly, watching Larel tuck the last of her bandages back into place.
“Good. Well, nothing seems out of order. I only wanted to check up on you.” The sorcerer sat back with a smile.
“You wanted to—or you were sent to?” Vhalla inquired.
“Do they have to be mutually exclusive?” The woman stood. “Oh, and by the way, happy birthday.”
“How did you know it was my birthday?” she asked dumbfounded.
“When you were in our care, the minister sent for all your papers and records. I noticed your birthdate.” Larel fussed in a small bag for a moment. “Here.” She held out two small parcels.
“What’s this?” Vhalla accepted the treasures with both hands.
“Birthday presents, silly.”
Larel said it like it was nothing, but Vhalla placed them reverently in her lap. She barely expected her friends to remember her birthday, more or less get her anything. To have someone she had barely knew give her not one, but two gifts.
“Oh,” Larel added, “one is from Fritz. I made the mistake of telling him where I was headed this morning, and he was insistent.”
“Can I open them now?” Vhalla asked.
“Go ahead.” Larel nodded, giving a small smile at Vhalla’s girlish enthusiasm.
Vhalla placed one to the side, as she had a feeling she already knew what it was. Taking the smaller of the two gifts, she unwrapped the simple brown paper and twine to reveal a beautiful metal cuff. It was thin and turned up slightly on the sides with a small gap in the back to slide her wrist through. She studied it in the light. Embossed upon its surface were foreign runes that Vhalla didn’t recognize.