She doesn’t answer immediately, instead folding her arms across her chest. “You’ll know soon enough. Right now, focus on getting your feet under you before your head explodes from the weight of it all.”
My head spins as I try to wrap my brain around everything that’s happened. I want to ask more, but before I can get the words out, the door creaks open.
Tamsin walks in, her curly hair a mess, eyes wide with worry as she scans the room.
"Lindsay," she says, relief flooding her voice as she hurries to my side. "I heard you were out. You okay?"
I blink at her, confused for a second. "How?—?"
“I was in the library,” Tamsin says, brushing a curl from her face. “The whispers started spreading fast—something about a magical surge during Combat Casting, and someone collapsing.” Her voice lowers. “Word got out it was you. And Raiden.”
I jerk upright, heart pounding. “Wait. Raiden—what happened to him?”
Tamsin’s expression darkens. “They said he dropped, too. Not as bad, I think—he came to faster. Said a few words. But he hasn’t been seen since.” She glances around the infirmary. All the other beds are empty. “He’s not here either. One rumor said he was carried out of the training wing. Another said the bond glitched and blew half the room’s runes off the walls.”
I drag a hand over my face. Guilt twists in my stomach. I really know how to make a mess of things.
Tamsin shakes her head, sitting beside me. “Relax, you’re fine. Magic gets a little out of control, that’s all.”
I glance over at the matron, but she’s already moving toward a nearby shelf, her attention shifting away. She’s like a shadow, always there, but not quite present in the way most people are.
“Thanks for…being here,” I mumble, not sure what else to say. It’s a bit overwhelming.
Tamsin laughs softly, glancing toward the matron’s retreating figure. “Don’t thank me yet. I may or may not have loudly suggested that they stop throwing you into magical chaos every five minutes.”
I blink at her. “Loudly suggested?”
She grins. “Okay, fine. I might’ve yelled at Professor River outside the library. He didn’t seem thrilled.”
That actually makes me smile—for half a second.
“Seriously though,” she says, softer now, “you’re okay? After…whatever that was?”
I nod slowly, but the motion feels fragile. “I think so. But I don’t know what’s happening to me, Tamsin.”
Her expression softens, her usual teasing manner slipping away as she places a hand gently on my arm. “You’ve got more power in you than you realize. And you’ve got people looking out for you. Matron Cray, me, Nolan…” she trails off, as if unsure whether to say more.
I feel a spark of hope despite everything swirling in my head. “I don’t even know how to control it. The magic…it’s alive, Tamsin. I can feel it in me, pulling on me. I’m not sure I can do this.”
Her eyes harden with resolve. “You will. And when it feels like it’s too much, we’ll be right here. All of us will. You’re not alone in this.”
Her words are comforting, and I realize how much I need to hear them. Maybe I can get through this, step by step. With people like Tamsin by my side, maybe I have a shot.
Matron Cray, who has been watching the interaction quietly from the side, finally speaks, her voice soft but laced with wisdom. “Remember this, girl—no magic exists in a vacuum. You are the source, not the victim of it. You control it, or it controls you.”
I nod slowly, absorbing her words.
“Now, rest,” Matron Cray says, with a sudden sternness. “You’re not out of the woods yet.”
Tamsin smiles, clearly relieved that I’m not in a state of panic anymore. “I’ll come back after dinner and check in, okay? Rest up, Lindsay. We’ve got a lot to work through. But for now, just breathe.”
I fall into a restless sleep not long after Tamsin leaves. The quiet of the infirmary settles around me, and I feel my body start to relax enough to sleep. But the peace doesn’t last long.
The dream comes in pieces at first—a faint shimmer of light, an echoing sound, like someone calling my name from far away. Then, suddenly, everything shifts, and I’m not in the infirmary anymore.
I’m standing in a vast, moonlit ballroom, the kind that looks like it belongs in an ancient fairy tale. The floor beneath me is smooth marble, gleaming like glass, and the air is thick with magic. The walls stretch into shadow, fading into an endless abyss. There's an ethereal glow to everything, soft and glowing like the moon itself is casting a spell over the room.
A figure steps out of the shadows, tall and regal. His dark black hair catches the moonlight, contrasting with his pale eyes that burn with an intensity I can’t quite name. His presence pulls at me, and I feel it in my bones.
