Cursed to the Bone

47. No Meddling Zone

Come the end of January, we were without a professor to teach the freshmen Clerical or Warding class. As such, Naomi, Rhett, Nix, and I were grouped up in an empty classroom with Blake. By some miracle, Naomi had convinced Blake to help me figure out what I was doing wrong with the healing spells. I had no idea why Nix and Rhett decided they should be there, too. The situation was especially confusing because Blake was back to normal, acting like she did before the dance.

"Nix, don't wave the knife around like that," Blake said, fixing him with a scowl. "You could really hurt someone."

Nix sank in his seat and lowered his knife to his desk. "Sorry."

"It would give us something to heal, at least," Naomi said with a snicker.

"Not if it's too severe." Blake crossed her arms. "Even I have my limits, you know."

"When do you think they'll replace Rhodes?" Rhett asked as Naomi flipped through a textbook. "I hope it doesn't take as long as it took to replace the other guy."

"Briggs," Naomi said like it was obvious.

"Yeah, him."

"Oh!" Naomi perked up and shoved her book toward Blake. "Can you teach us Mend, too?"

Blake hummed. "Maybe later. Bones are trickier. It's a second-year spell for a reason."

"All right," Naomi mumbled, continuing to flip through the book.

"So, a demonstration. We'll go for the big one. Restore. It's similar to Seal with a minor difference. Place your fingers down, like so," Blake said, pausing to cut into her hand. She didn't even flinch as the blade tore her flesh. She placed two fingers down on the unharmed skin and lowered her palm to the other side of the wound. Her hand lit with a green glow and when she swiped the blood away, the skin had sealed. "When you lower the palm, there's no fancy movement. Keep it still to heal everything evenly."

"Okay." I fiddled with my knife. There was something about healing that got in my head. It would be wonderful to learn, if I could, but I was beginning to have doubts. I read once that some people went their whole lives unable to learn certain schools of magic. To be fair, most witches picked an area to focus on anyway, but I didn't like to lose.

"You three practice too, since you're all here," Blake said, gesturing to me. "Vee, can I talk to you a minute?"

My chair scraped against the tiles as I stood and set my knife atop my book. "Sure."

We moved into the hall, and once the door was shut Blake scratched her neck and faced me. Her cheeks were as red as a cherry and she couldn't meet my gaze. "I'm sorry. I had to take a little while to get over . . . everything. After a few days I was so embarrassed I didn't know how to apologize. Knowing you, and how you are, I can't imagine how hard it was for you. Can you forgive me?"

A mixture of relief and uncertainty swam through me. In truth, I wasn't sure there was anything to forgive. By distancing herself, she was taking care of herself, wasn't she? She needed her own time. I was intimately familiar with that need for space. But with us being so alike, and so different, part of me worried friendship could only further the divide.

Pushing my worries aside, I nodded. "No harm done."

Blake grinned. "Great! Let's head back so I can give you some pointers."

"Please do."

Once we returned, I took up my knife and glanced at the others. They were sitting there, grins affixed to their smug faces. I was sure they had some hand in what transpired. They really were a bunch of schemers and gossips.