“You’re drinking your healing tonic at night, right?” She stares at the blackish-blue bruises on my ribs that peek through the gaps in my leathers.
“What healing tonic?” My food is forgotten on my plate as I stare at her.
“Gods, you haven’t been healing at night?” Mathilda practically yells the words, her wings ruffling with her agitated movements.
“Uh, no. No one told me.” I wince again, not just from her anger, but from the pain spearing through my ribs and the burning of my wing buds down my spine.
Mathilda’s wings vanish as she launches from the table and hurtles out of the dining hall. She yells over her shoulder, “Don’t move!”
I’m left staring at the door, but I only have time to blink before she swiftly returns with a gold vial.
“Here, drink this. Now.” She shoves the bottle in my face.
“What is it?” I uncork it. The smell of honey wafts from the vial.
“It’s what you’re supposed to drink every night. It’s a healing tonic and heals any damage you sustained during training. Since magic is fading, we aren’t healing as fast as we should be, and the healers created this to help speed up the process. I cannot believe Julius,or even Odessa, didn’t give you a supply. You could’ve been really hurt. I’m so sorry.” Her eyes are tinged with sorrow as she presses her lips into a tight line.
“I’m sure it was just an oversight,” I mumble.
But her eyes continue blazing, not wanting her to focus that rage towards me, I throw the vial back in one gulp. It does taste like honey, but something more, something citrusy.
Instantly, my body begins to tingle. The bruises on my ribs begin fading away before my eyes, and the throbbing diminishes. The burning and itching from my wing buds lessens to a more tolerable annoyance as well. Small cuts on my exposed arms stitch together, the pink fading away to a soft white.
“Whoa, that’s incredible. What is that made from?” I ask, eyeing the vial.
“It’s made from the leaves of the Idir tree.” Sadness dims the rage in her eyes.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a tree on the island, in the middle of the city,” she answers.
I feel a pang in my chest.
“The sick tree,” I murmur.
Mathilda’s head cocks to the side, a question on the tip of her tongue, but she pauses as Odessa breezes into the dining hall, her cornflower blue robes trailing behind her. She approaches our table, and Mathilda glares at her.
“Is there a problem, Mathilda?” Odessa asks, staring down her nose at us.
“Yes,” Mathilda grits out between her clenched teeth. “Lenahas gone to several training sessions without being given a supply of healing tonic.”
Odessa’s eyes widen slightly, but that is the only emotion that she emits before she turns her cold face to mine. “Apologies, Helena. Julius was instructed to explain the intricacies of that after your first training.”
I smile up at my aunt, wanting the tension in the room to abate. “No worries. Mathilda got me squared away.” I hold the vial up in my hand. “I didn’t know anything like this could exist. Mathilda says it’s made here on the island from a tree?”
Odessa purses her lips and looks at the floor. The movement is unusual for her. I’ve never seen her look anything but composed and confident.
“Yes.” The word comes out in a hiss. “It’s made from the leaves of the Idir tree.”
“Oh, I thought I heard something last night about it being sick?” I force a frown, feigning cluelessness, but only Odessa buys it. Mathilda’s foot nudges mine underneath the table.
“Again, yes,” Odessa grits out.
“Is that the magic fading or some kind of omen?” I ask, looking between them.
Mathilda smirks, looking up at Odessa. She eyes the wall behind me and sighs before glancing back at me. I’m getting the feeling she does not want me to know anything about what that particular omen could mean.
“It could be an omen that the Fomorians are gathering an army and that a leaf falls for every soldier they possess,” she grumbles. “Nonsensical old tales, though. It is directly tied to magic fading.”
