Darcy enjoyed tutoring the young mages. It was the only part of his day that was still familiar. Losing himself for two hours teachingThe Compendiumgave him the illusion that nothing had changed.
With a few minutes to spare until the dreaded Council Meeting, Darcy stopped to see how Bingley was doing. As he walked through the corridor, he spotted Lady Hazelmere coming towards him. He prepared to ask her the usual question, and hear the usual answer: nothing has changed. He hated those words, but he knew it could be a good deal worse.
“I was just coming to find you, Mr. Darcy. I have excellent news.” She beamed. “Mr. Bingley has woken up!”
Darcy could hardly believe his ears. Until now, he had done his best to stay numb and not to speculate on what could happen. He had not allowed himself to hope, but he had never given up, either. Since Bingley’s injury, he had been living in a constant state of dread that drained his spirits.
Bingley had woken up. He would live, after all. His friend was restored to him. Remarkable what a few words could do.
He set out in a half-trot towards the corner where Bingley’s bed had been moved. The huge burden of guilt lifted from his shoulders. All that worry had been for nothing. Bingley was recovered, and all was well.
Darting behind the screen that ensured Bingley’s privacy, Darcy prepared to tease Bingley for oversleeping.
There was Bingley sitting up in his bed, smiling. He was looking thin, but otherwise, he looked much like his old self. It was the most welcome sight in the world.
Darcy could have wept.
“Bingley! Thank Heavens! You are recovered.”
Bingley continued to smile but did not react.
Darcy frowned. There was something wrong. The sense of elation disappeared. He swallowed down his disappointment as Lady Hazelmere caught up with him and stood by his side, looking down at Bingley.
“How long has he been awake, Lady Hazelmere?”
“No more than half an hour. He has eaten some broth.”
It was a beginning. It was a good beginning. He would recover slowly. He was now able to eat and drink. It was progress.
“I was starting to explain to you that he was not yet fully aware of his surroundings when you took off like a hare.”
A hare? He did not care for the comparison. Or perhaps he no longer fully trusted Lady Hazelmere.
“I apologize, Lady Hazelmere, but I am sure you understand my enthusiasm.”
She bowed her head graciously.
“So do you have any idea when he will return to normal?”
“Since we do not know the course of the affliction, we cannot say what or when the next stage will be. So far, we are still unable to reach him. Mr. Bingley is awake, yes, and he is physically unharmed, but the sense of emptiness we encounter each time has not changed.”
He did not need to be a Healer to recognize that Lady Hazelmere was right about this. Bingley’s smile was vacant. There was a gaping void behind it. Darcy could not even tell if Bingley recognized him.
Deflated, Darcy sank into the chair at Bingley’s bedside.
“Well then, Mr. Darcy. I will leave you to it, but he is awake now, which means he has made progress. At least he can eat now. We were at our wit’s end when he was not eating or drinking.”
Darcy nodded. He had to believe that Bingley would continue to improve. Why should he despair now, when there was far more reason to hope? It was simply a matter of time, and time was not quite as urgent now.
Lady Hazelmere’s footsteps retreated.
“I have no idea if you can hear me, Bingley. If you can, give me a signal.”
Nothing in Bingley’s expression changed.
“Any sign will do. Move one of your fingers. Blink. Make a sound. Anything.”
Watching Bingley’s fingers intently, Darcy waited for something to happen, but there was no sign of movement. It had been a mistake to ask Bingley to do too many different things at once. He might have blinked while Darcy was looking at his fingers.
