A New Tale from the Shadowhunter Academy

3. Acquainting

Instinctively, Max raised his hand, as if to grab the boy from the distance, and reached for his magic. In mid-air the fall of the boy suddenly stopped, leaving him floating, one of his feet still sticking to the windowsill as if not willing to let go of his last hold. To Max's surprise, not only his magic had stopped the fall of the boy: Cara had grabbed one of his ankles in a firm grasp. She must have approached the boy with nearly inhuman speed.

Now all three of them looked at each other in bewilderment as if Jonathan Shadowhunter himself had manifested in their midst telling them that they would be gifted with donkey-ears. Cara recovered first and carefully pulled the boy back inside over one of the beds, where he hovered a few seconds before Max disengaged his magic. The boy fell and landed softly, but nevertheless let out a groan.

Without erecting he stared at Cara and Max with wide eyes. As he didn't seem inclined to say a word, and Cara was her usual muted self, Max felt the obligation to break the uncomfortable silence (at least it felt uncomfortable for him). With a bright smile he said: "Hi, you must be my new roommate. I'm Max and this is Cara. Or do you know each other already? You must know, I only arrived today. So, what's your name and why did you jump out of the window?"

The boy's eyes opened even wider, so Max feared they would pop out of their sockets. To Max's surprise, the boy ignored his questions and asked Cara: "Are you a warlock?" Now even Cara blinked in surprise and turned her head to look at Max. True, his horns were not very obvious but hidden in his shock of curly hair, but didn't the boy notice that Max was the one with warlock-y blue skin? He felt inclined to ask: "Why would you think that?"

The boy had recovered enough to sit up. "Well," he mumbled. "My fall suddenly stopped, when... Cara, right?... when she took hold of my leg, so I thought she used magic on me... which is totally ok, I mean, being a Downworlder is ok... and I think I should thank you for saving me, so... thank you for... you know..." His voice trailed off.

Max cleared his throat to ask the obvious question: "Didn't you notice something about my skin? Something unusual?"

The boy looked confused: "What? Um... no? What about your skin?"

"Well, it's blue."

The boy' eyes had reached the size of saucers now. "I'm so sorry..., " he stammered. "I didn't see... I mean... I couldn't..."

"Is something wrong with your eyes?" Cara asked matter-of-factly.

The boy raised his hands in defiance: "No, no! Everything's fine! Nothing's wrong! Really!"

"Are you color-blind?"

Max was not the one to beat about the bush, but Cara had a manner of telling to your face that felt like she was hitting you with the hilt of her broad sword against the forehead.

The boy turned pale. His gaze flew to the door. If to make sure that nobody else listened or to search for an escape route, Max couldn't tell but he instantly pitied the boy. Physical weaknesses were scorned among Shadowhunters. Max could imagine that the boy did everything in his power to keep his color-blindness a secret. That two strangers uncovered it within the first minute of their acquaintance must feel like a bucket of ice-water poured over his head.

Hastily Max assured him: "Never fear. I won't tell anyone. And Cara isn't the talkative type anyway."

The boy nodded feebly, obviously not completely convinced of their trustworthiness.

Again, Cara felt obliged to ask the most delicate question possible: "Did you want to kill yourself because of that?"

The boy frowned and blinked in incomprehension: "Why do you think I would want to kill myself?"