Page 43 of Flowerheart

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t try to get rid of your healer so soon. You’re welcome to stay the weekend if you’d like, Robin. We’d love to have you.”

They chewed on their lip. “Ioughtto stay,” they said. “I usually visit my mothers on the weekends. It’s been a while. But I don’t want to leave you here—”

Papa waved his hand in a shooing motion. “Go back to Queensborough! Clara will be able to tend to me.”

I failed to have as much confidence as he did. “What does Madam Ben Ammar say about his progress?” I asked.

“She stopped by two days ago and thinks he’s doing better. Since it was your touch that afflicted him, I assume that as long as you keep your hands covered, everything should be all right.”

I looked down at my gloved palms, thinking of the blessing, of the illustrations. Of a future where my magic wouldn’t hurt anyone. But that future didn’t exist, really. There was only the possibility of losing my magic forever. At least then, it would no longer be able to hurt anyone.

“Master Morwyn has been teaching me to cast a blessing,” I told Robin.

They nodded. “Madam Ben Ammar told me so. I’ll admit I was surprised... blessings are extremely advanced. I’veonly seen Madam Ben Ammar perform one once. She was exhausted afterward.”

I grimaced. “I know it’s a complicated spell. But it seems to be Papa’s only hope of recovering fully.”

One more day. Papa nestled against the back of the worn chair, his eyelids drooping.

“Are you all right?” I asked him.

He moved his head in a slow nod, smiling. “Just a little tired, that’s all.”

Robin set the two potions on the table, the green for his stomach and the orange for his heart. They touched the bottle with the orange potion. “A spoonful in the morning and before bed,” they instructed. They dug through their jumbled-up potion case and procured Madam Ben Ammar’s sky-blue card. “I know you’ll see her tomorrow, but... just in case.”

I nodded. Papa’s eyes were closed now, and he was breathing heavily—but not labored breaths, just sleepy ones. “Do you think we’ll be all right on our own for the night?” I whispered to Robin.

“Icanstay.”

Seeing Papa asleep in his chair like this reminded me of lazy Sunday afternoons. I’d read to him from a novel, he’d fall asleep, and I would scold him for not paying attention.

Robin deserved a moment of peace like that. A moment of quiet with their family.

“You should go see your mothers. You’ve done so much for Papa and me.” My eyes prickled with tears. I took a deep, steadying breath. “Thank you.”

Robin wished me farewell with their robust handshake. They took their potions and their bag over the stoop and through the door, now attached to a living room in Queensborough. As soon as it closed behind them with aclick, Papa’s eyes flew open. He giggled.

“You’re a child,” I said, squeezing his hand.

He leaned closer to me with a conspiratorial grin. He may have been feigning sleep, but his eyes were truly tired, darkened with shadows beneath. “So, what do you think of young Master Morwyn? Has he changed greatly?”

I curled into a ball on the sofa, my knees against my chest. Thinking of Xavier—it made cold seep into my bones. His secrets. Our bargain. The fact that if I were to succeed in blessing Papa, Xavier would get all my magic. What then?

“Clara?”

I blinked. “What were we talking about?”

“Xavier. Do you like him as your teacher?”

My finger lazily traced figure eights against the worn, wine-colored fabric of the sofa. “He’s a good teacher. Very knowledgeable. He helped me research blessings. And he’s kind, too. He doesn’t get cross with me when I do something silly. I don’t think hecanget cross.”

No, that wasn’t right. Brewing up that potion in thenight, his eyes blazing as he threw out an arm to keep me from touching the brew. His skin, flushed as he bellowed and hurled porcelain off a cliffside. He did have anger inside him—like a seed that was only just starting to grow. What had caused it? What had planted it there? And would he ever tell me about it?

“You’re awfully pensive,” Papa noted. He reached to touch my hand, but I pulled away. He sighed. “You used to shy away from me like that when you were younger. You didn’t care much for me for a good two years.”

I winced. “I was ten. I was foolish.”

“No. You were just trying to impress your friends. And I was a little... overbearing.” He rolled his eyes at himself. “And now I’ve been cursed with an overbearing daughter!”

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