Page 118 of The Tribes of Magic
“Then why is it so erratic?”
He shrugged. “You just need to learn to control it.”
That seemed to be the recurring theme right now.
“Let’s see what we can do about that bump on your head.”
I spied my reflection in a mirror on the wall. “I look terrible.” I touched the bump on my head, wincing when it hurt.
“There’s nothing to worry about, Savannah. It’s only a minor wound. I’ll have it fixed in no time. Just relax.”
I remembered how he’d healed Rhett so quickly and effortlessly. And that boy with the burns. Obviously, Killjoy knew what he was doing. I forced my aching body to relax.
Humming a jolly tune, Killjoy pulled out his magic pen again. I watched in the mirror as he drew a rune on my forehead. It pulsed only once before it faded. The pain in my head disappeared.
“There you go, good as new.”
“Thanks.” I slid off the cot, then crossed the room to the door. I turned back to give him a parting wave. “Well, see you around, Killjoy.”
“Do you want me to write you a note to get you out of training for the rest of the day?”
“You’d do that for me? Why? You told Rhett you wouldn’t do it for him.”
“Let’s just say you intrigue me.”
“I? Or my magic?”
“Both. So do you need that note?”
“No.” I sighed. “I should get back. I can’t avoid Rhett and his cronies forever. We’re all going to be Knights. That means sooner or later we’ll probably have to work together.”
“Of course you can avoid them. Why do you think I asked to work in the Clinic?”
“But that only means you see even more of everyone.”
“Only when they injure themselves. And when that happens,Icontrol the encounter. I’m a healer, which means they need to be on their best behavior. They need something from me. I don’t need anything from them.”
He really had this all figured out. Except…
“You can’t hide in here forever,” I told him.
“Sure I can.”
“Doesn’t it ever get lonely?”
“No.”
“I don’t believe you. Even if you choose to isolate yourself from everyone, eventually you get lonely. Eventually, you miss interacting with people.”
“I interact with people.”
“Reallyinteracting with people. As in, having friends. You have patients. You don’t have any real friends, do you?”
“Friends are overrated. It’s easier being alone.” There was a note of melancholy in his voice when he said it. That told me he’d cared about someone and lost them.
I walked back across the room and took his hands, squeezing them. I met his eyes and smiled. “Being alone might be easier, but it’s not better. I will be your friend.”
“I told you. I don’t need friends.” His tone was adamant but not unkind.
