Page 38 of Magic and Medicine

The pain worsened as magic smothered my mind, and breathing became so difficult that my legs suddenly failed. In a blind panic, I tried to find the source of the attack, explosions of colour flashing across my vision.

‘Sara?’ Nadolny’s worried voice sounded through the haze of pain. ‘Sara, what is wrong?’

‘Spell, magic.’ That I managed to speak surprised me, but it encouraged me to try again. ‘Someone is casting… find them.’ I choked on my words, coughing up blood mixed with salty water onto my hand, crumpling to the ground as the gangster tried to shield my body.

Nadolny’s eyes widened in fear when he noticed the blood, while all my concentration was focused on forcing air into my lungs past the immense pressure crushing my head and chest, lips moving in a wordless mantra to relieve the pain.

I was scooped up with surprising gentleness, Nadolny carrying me to his alcove. I barely registered his curt orders, snapped out to those surrounding us until we were alone, with Nina staring into my eyes, fingers on my pulse.

‘Honey, what is going on? Talk to me, please.’ Nina’s pale face was streaked with tears as she searched for my vitals with professional efficiency.

I tried to answer, but, unable to breathe, my words remained trapped inside. The metallic taste of blood and darkening vision told me I was slowly dying, crushed by an ocean’s worth of pressure on dry land.

Jarek’s blurry face swam before me, the sound of sniffing strangely loud over the rushing in my ears. ‘She stinks of magic. We need the Boss here now. He’ll know what to do.’

The last dim thought as I heard that, my consciousness slipping away, was of Leszek. Well, I wanted his attention….

Pain, blinding with its intensity, dragged me back to consciousness. The pressure around my body receded, allowing the tiniest whisper of breath into my lungs before increasing again, and once more, I fainted. Each time my consciousness resurfaced, I wished to black out again. I wasn’t simply being murdered; this was a message, my death used to punish more than just myself, meant to cause the maximum amount of mental and physical pain.

The desperation in Nina’s voice, as she used every trick she knew to force breath into my lungs, wrung tears from my eyes. Even through the pain, I could sense the magic being used and knew her efforts were futile.

As soon as I thought that, anger burned through the pain, Nina’s actions reminding me I was not the one to give up, to lose hope, and I grasped onto this determination, fighting to live, dragging air through my lips, using my fledgling magic to tie my soul to its dying flesh.

You can do it, Sara, in and out. The air goes in and out. I repeated this like a mantra while a sweet, elusive voice deep inside me whispered, telling me my torment would end if I stopped fighting. What a way to die, embraced by a gangster in a club with a shady reputation, I thought, my mind still making jokes till the end. Then something changed, shifted… I was suddenly looking down at my body, listening to Nina’s thoughts as she battled to save me.

A loud commotion distracted my friend, and my consciousness crashed back into its own tormented flesh. Before I could register what was happening, my limp form was moving; a different pressure briefly crushing my ribs, eclipsing the magical attack… then loosening, allowing blessed, a whiff of life-sustaining air into my lungs, the scent of oak and elder making me smile as I forced myself to speak.

‘Hey, arsehole.’ My smile faltered and dropped as the pain returned, but nothing mattered now. Leszek was here; my forest-scented cavalry had come to save the day.

Worry creased his forehead as Leszek stroked my cheek. ‘I’m here, darling. Everything will be fine. You are safe now. Just trust me and breathe, my Firefly.’ Despite the absurdity of the words, I still found myself obeying, tears falling from my eyes.

He pressed my head to his chest, murmuring something over and over until the pressure disappeared and my chest dragged in its first lungful in what seemed like hours. I sobbed in relief, but as one pain disappeared, another took its place, an agonising burn tearing through my lower back, and I buried my scream in Leszek’s firm chest as he murmured, stroking my back, his magic surrounding me with its soothing touch.

‘Can you tell me where it hurts, Sara? I can sense someone’s touch, but unless you tell me where it is, I can’t remove the spell’s anchor.’ Leszek placed a finger under my chin, making me look up when I shook my head. ‘Come now, sweetling, you can do it.’

‘My back, it’s burning. Oh, fuck, it hurts.’ I bit my lip as I finished and swore I would punch whoever did this.

‘Nina, check her back,’ Leszek said, and I felt my friend open the zip with brusque efficiency, hands running over my spine till they stilled just below my shoulder blades.

‘There’s something here. The skin is raised like a welt or a burn scar,’ she said, anger roughening her voice, and I remembered a boisterous and overly friendly woman slapping me there earlier that evening.

Leszek turned me around gently. His hands slid over the mark, and I heard him suck in a breath, shocked by whatever he found.

‘No surprise it is hurting. This is Svarog’s rune, born of fire. I’m sorry, Firefly, but it will hurt even more as I remove it.’ He said it in the tone that doctors everywhere recognise, and I chewed my lip, expecting the worst.

‘Fine, you can kiss it better later,’ I said as his touch brought relief and, with it, my sassiness returned, fuelled by alcohol and adrenaline. I was not a child, I was not weak, and I survived despite such frightening circumstances. The pain was still there, but I could breathe and think again, and instantly I turned to Nina, who stood back, watching the scene wide-eyed and shaking.

‘Are you alright? I’m sorry for getting you mixed up in all this,’ I said, but she only shrugged, carefully brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. When I hissed, sweat beaded on my skin under Leszek’s touch. We both ignored the tremor in her fingers and my occasional curses while he kept working on my back.

‘I am, and don’t you dare to apologise. It was not your fault, but I’m telling you now, whoever did this will get a kick in the balls for hurting my friend. Is this the magic you told me about?’ She asked.

‘Do you know who did it? I locked down the club as soon as you collapsed. No one can escape while my men secure the building. Just give me a name or description, and I will ensure this person never bothers you again,’ Nadolny asked, and I heard Leszek huff in annoyance before replying for me.

‘This person is familiar with ancient runes, and they are a master of the Dark Arcana. Your staff wouldn’t even see them if they hid. No, open the doors; your patrons’ fear is making me uncomfortable, and neither of us wants the publicity.’ I felt Leszek’s arms tighten as he spoke, pressing my back harder to his chest.

When I felt a shudder run through his body, it dawned on me just how perilous the situation had been, my mind finally willing to face the issue now that the danger had passed. I should have felt embarrassed clinging to Leszek, but it felt like I belonged there, and he showed no inclination to release his hold.

‘Thank you,’ I said, the word feeling inadequate, so I turned my face toward him to express my sincerity. Words died in my throat as I saw his expression, barely restrained fury raging behind his eyes, his face an inhuman mask. I would have jumped off his lap and fled till I collapsed if not for his hand slowly stroking the small of my back.

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