Still. No wonder Lander stared. I look… odd.
That unmoving face, though. I shall need to practise expressions. At present, I resemble a mannequin.
I silently groan and snap the visor shut.
Chapter Fourteen
We turnoff the forest track onto a narrow country road, where a cluster of sleek black vehicles waits, engines purring, faint enchantments glowing in their wheel rims and along the tarmac.
Lander climbs out, and a small team converges on him. He gives me a reassuring wave before a woman approaches and opens my door.
“Hello, I’m Jennifer. I’m a healer.”
I nod, attempting a smile that must look more like a grimace; she hesitates a fraction too long. Right. Perhaps I had better not do that again.
“May I use a diagnostic spell?”
Another nod.
I reach to remove the blanket, but she shakes her head. “No, it’s all right—you can keep it on.”
Lander stands behind her, arms folded, forearms corded, biceps solid beneath his T-shirt. I hope he did not see my attempt at a smile.
Jennifer draws her wand and a small device in her other hand, perhaps to record her findings. She murmurs an incantation, tracing precise arcs through the air. Her eyes glaze—open, yet unfocused. Impressive discipline that must have taken her years of training.
A faint tingle runs over my skin, prickling like static.
When she finishes, she addresses Lander, not me.
“She’s remarkably healthy. Perfect readings across the board. Blood pressure, mineral balance, vitals… everything.”
At least the ley line has bestowed a sound body.
They close the door and step aside, still discussing me in low voices.
“So, what’s the problem?” Lander asks.
“The problem,” Jennifer replies, “is that I’ve never seen readings this pristine. Not even professional athletes test this clean. It’s unprecedented.”
“We’ll note it,” he says, voice clipped. “Is she cleared?”
“She’s cleared. No injuries. I don’t know why she was unconscious at the crash site.”
Jennifer lowers her voice, angling her body so that only Lander can hear. She speaks animatedly, her hands sketching the contours of whatever theory she is forming.
I cannot make out her words, but I see his posture stiffen.
“Thank you, Jennifer.”
She hesitates, giggles, then lightly touches his arm. “Oh, Lander, about that coffee…” Her fingernails drag across his skin.
He stares at the contact as though a slug has crawled over him.
Jennifer’s nervous laugh falters; she withdraws her hand. “I didn’t mean that little problem with your sister and her husband.”
“Now ex-husband. You had an affair, Jennifer, and a full-scale magical fight in the Human Sector that destroyed a hotel. It wasn’t a small problem. Let us keep this professional, shall we?”
He strides back and slams the door a touch too hard. The car rocks.
