Page 18 of A Healer's Wrath
Kelså laughed. “On any other day, I would lecture you about propriety, young lady. However, on this day, I will toast with you until neither of us feel any fear.”
I turned and stepped toward the chairs by the fire where Kelså stood.
“What do you have to be afraid of?”
“Meeting a new Mage is a grave responsibility. What if I steered you wrong? What if you refused my aid? What if you could not learn control?”
My eyes narrowed. “What if I can’t learn control?”
“You will. I . . . forgive me.” Kelså blinked, then swallowed. “Let us have those drinks now.” She stepped to a side table and filled two glasses from a crystal decanter, then held up the glasses and smiled as they frosted, chilling to perfection.
My eyes somehow widened further. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
Kelså’s laugh was warm and light. “Oh, child, yes. There are limits, but there are also many possibilities. Come and sit. I will answer as much as I can.”
Chapter nine
Irina
Istared at my palm. “I don’t understand. I’m trying.”
We had spent the first couple of hours talking. I grew up knowing magic existed and a special few could wield it, but it hadn’t seemed relevant to my life. I had never even seen a Mage, and most of the stories people told of them made the men and women of magic sound like self-absorbed, privileged children.
And yet, Kelså’s kindness and calm presence made me realize how ridiculous some of those old stories might be. The Mage answered each of my questions, some multiple times, never showing a hint of fatigue or annoyance. When our conversation turned more practical, and Kelså tried to guide me through finding my Light—my magical core—I found that the Mage enjoyed playing the mentor role.
Kelså folded her hands in her lap, pausing a moment before responding. “Irina, you used an incredible amount of magic when you Healed Master Rist. An experienced Mage would be exhausted, both physically and mentally. I am amazed you are still on your feet, much less attempting to touch your source.”
“But it came so quickly. I didn’t think about it. Spirits, I didn’t even know magic existed within me.” I wanted to toss the empty tumbler against the fireplace. I had memorized a million facts while studying in the Medica, but nothing in my time with Master Rist had been as frustrating as trying to call my Light.
“Magic responds to our need, sometimes to our deepest desires, too. You said you were afraid that you might lose Master Rist, that he was close to death? In your moment of greatest need, you tapped into something deep within yourself without even knowing it. Unless you find yourself in a similar situation—and I hope that never happens again—you will likely never access magic in that same manner again. As frustrating as this will be, you need to learn to find and touch your Light correctly.”
I sighed in frustration. “It feels like that’ll take forever.”
Kelså sat back. “Only hours ago, you had no idea you possessed magic. I think you will survive a while longer before you learn to wield it. Think of your apprenticeship in the Medica. How long was it before Master Rist let you see a patient, much less treat one?”
I looked up. “Three years, and we still can’t treat someone without him or a senior present.”
“I promise it won’t take three years.”
“That’s encouraging.”
Kelså’s maternal smile disarmed her churlish lip as she took a sip of her whiskey. “Why don’t we stop for the night and resume tomorrow? You must be tired.”
Watching her drink, I realized we had emptied her decanter, yet I felt no more intoxicated than when we’d arrived.
“I see another question in your eyes,” Kelså said. “Last one today. Make it good.”
“We’re not drunk.”
Kelså smiled. “That is not a question.”
I rolled my eyes, earning a snort. “Why aren’t we drunk? Your decanter was full when we started. I should be passed out, but I feel no more drunk than if we’d been drinking water.”
“Have you ever felt drunk?”
I thought a moment. Father had only just begun allowing me to drink wine on our weekends together. I remembered my parents getting tipsy. They were silly and disgustingly affectionate when they drank. It made me smile and want to barricade my door all in the same moment.
But had I felt anything?