Chapter Eighteen: If You Think I'm That Stupid, You're Wrong

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    The next few days were quiet. I was unable -- more like ordered not to -- to practice or train until I recovered. I didn't argue. There was definitely a sense of draining after the meeting. Almost as if I could feel a limb was about to hyperextend. 

   I hadn't realized how much I depended on training to stay occupied. Once I was stripped of it, I found myself pacing in circles. Sensing that I was also driving Alexie batty with my pacing, I defaulted to a tactic I'd used several years ago when my dad was put into the hospital for a heart problem and I was alone: cooking. I spent the next three or four days ransacking Alexie's kitchen for stuff to play with.

   The smell of the stir-fry on the second day finally lured Alexie to peer around the corner curiously. I waved the spatula wordlessly at the table, snagging the nearby salt. Finding food in this place was absolutely ridiculous. Alexie had barely anything but the bare necessities of life. The lack of spices was annoying. 

   After flicking off the stove, I sat down with a massive pan of food and dropped a spoon in. There was silence as we served ourselves and began to eat. After a bit, I finally spoke again. "I still don't understand this whole Ghost Realm thing."

   Alexie nodded his head a bit. "It is a difficult concept to grasp. To put it simple, it is another world that coexists beside ours. A wall separates this reality from that one."

   "So if there's another world just sitting there, why haven't magicks moved in?" My eyebrows drew together. "Instead of hiding from the humans."

   "Because it is incredibly dangerous. Life in the Ghost Realm is infinitely more risky than life on Earth."

   "How could that possibly be true?"

   Alexie sat down his fork. "While we might face genocide here, we face extinction in the Ghost Realm. There are beasts of different species that guard it. No one is meant to live there. The whole place is hostile. When magic has a request, it is best that we honor it."

   That didn't sit right. I worked my jaw. "So it's like the whole place wants to be left alone."

   "And that it has the defenses it needs to fulfill that wish."

   "So that's why the Council sends criminals there. They'll die."

   "Most often, yes."

   "Most? Some live?" That felt like a paradox. If the place was so dangerous, how did some people survive?

   Alexie grimaced. "There are rare cases. No one knows who and no one is willing to find out who they might have lived." Something in his tone told me not to question it. Then again, I wasn't very good at following directions.

   "Like Dani."

   "She was never there in the first place, so she doesn't qualify."

   I snorted. "Well, I guess I don't get to be a crazy criminal then. Getting thrown in there would suck."

   He stood up and picked up his plate. "It wouldn't matter. You will be going there within the year, either way."

   "What?" I shot upright as he walked into the kitchen, my eyes wide. "What the frick is that supposed to mean?" He didn't answer and I swore. "What?! You're totally shitting me. You just said that this place is a death wish! And now you're saying that I have to go there?!"

   "It is the rite of passage for mages to construct their own staff," said Alexie. "A staff is made of wood that originates from the Ghost Realm. A tree that has lived long enough to soak up the Realm's magic is trimmed for branches and brought back. You will have to journey inside and take your pick of a tree and create your staff."

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