“You seem to be healing quite well on your own,” I say.
“I remember a sharp pain, and a few minutes later, I got really queasy. My lips were tingling… I guess I blacked out. There was a… I saw… the Princess of Swords visited me, and…” She closes her eyes, her brow furrowing.
I brush my knuckles across her soft cheek. “You told me about the vision, Stevie. No need to relive it now.”
“What does it mean?”
“I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. Right now, let’s just focus on getting your strength back.”
“I left the gear,” she confesses. “It was really good gear, too.”
“Not to worry. Baz retrieved everything, including your pack and phone.”
“You found me,” she whispers. “How? How long was I out there?”
“Long enough.” I press my lips together, holding back a shudder. To think what would’ve happened if things had gone a different way…
“I couldn’t reach my phone,” she says. “Rookie mistake.”
“You didn’t need your phone.” I look to the window, the moonlight illuminating the Forest of Iron and Bone beyond. We’d all hoped to introduce her more slowly to the full scope of our world, to have time to properly train her.
But that was before we knew the extent of her powers.
Knew what she was.
“The owl appeared in my office while I was preparing tomorrow’s lesson,” I say. “You can imagine my surprise when he landed on my desk.”
“My owl?”
“He led us to you, and without a moment to spare. When Kirin and I found you, you were unconscious, your leg badly swollen. You’d cut your head, too—probably in the fall.”
She touches her fingers to her forehead, the once deep gash no more than a faint pink line.
“I wish I could call him up at will,” she says. “I’d like to thank him for his most excellent timing. Although, maybe next time he could show upbeforethe rattlesnake. Don’t owls eat those things?”
“Eventually, you’ll be able to communicate with the owl.”
“How?”
“The snowy owl is your familiar, Stevie. An animal soul connected to yours, bound to travel together for eternity. He has always been with you, but most witches don’t connect with their familiars until they’re much farther along on their magickal path.”
“My familiar,” she says, her voice reverent. “Do you have one?”
“Sadly, no. Mages can adopt animal companions much in the same way that humans do. But we don’t bond with familiars—that honor belongs solely to witches.”
She closes her eyes, processing this. I can only hope she’s too tired for more questions.
There’s so much more she has to learn. So much I wish I could tell her, but to do so now would overwhelm her. The Brotherhood is walking a thin line as it is, all of us growing far more attached to her than any of us could’ve predicted.
Which only lends credence to our theory. Well, I’m certain it’s not a theory now. Not after the visions she’s shared.
“I need to ask you something, Doc,” she says, all traces of reverence gone. When she meets my eyes again, I see only determination.
I swallow through the tightness in my throat. “What is it?”
“I need you to be straight with me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
