Page 31 of Divine Oaths

“You seem healthy. But those migraines… Have you seen a neurologist about them? And your hands…” Worry gleamed in her expression as her gaze fell to my burnt fingertips.

“I’m fine,” I lied. “I don’t feel anything.”

She didn’t look convinced. “I have something that might be of help for them.”

I hesitated. “Do you?” I’d been needing something stronger than ibuprofen for the migraines.

Angelica stood, digging through her medicine bag. Then she pulled out a handful of parchment paper rolls. They were filled with flower petals, and roots, and leaves that were shredded to flakes.

“Tea?” She couldn’t be serious.

“Every morning and every night, make yourself one of these drinks,” she said, placing the tea bags on my dresser. “They’ll ward off the migraines.”

“Chamomile tea isn’t going to keep my head from feeling like it’s been carved in two,” I said. Or from seeing visions. But I wasn’t going to admit that.

“It isn’t chamomile, though there are hints of it. There’s ginger root, cassava shavings, and artemisia. Here, I’ll write it exactly as it is.” She pulled out a pen and a sticky note. “The health insurance the school covers won’t take effect until classes start. Until then it’ll be a substitute. Then come to the medical center and we’ll see about continuing the prescription you already have.”

I fought the urge to say what I really thought: that it didn’t matter, and it wouldn’t work. But she was right. Without health insurance, I’d be forced to rely on over-the-counter medicine for the migraines and nosebleeds until I figured out what was happening with my powers.

“I’ll have something for your hands too,” Angelica continued. “It’s in my office. Your file mentioned the condition of your hands, but I didn’t realize the extent to which they’d been injured.” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood, despite the situation. “And your birthday’s coming up soon. In just a few days, right? We don’t want you triggering anything or getting sick for your twentieth.”

My file. I couldn’t escape it. From the early months after the fire, when the state shuffled me between homes and I’d been at risk of being in a juvenile detention center, to even now. Everywhere I went, my file followed.

“If you’ve read my record, then you’ll know that it’s pointless,” I said. “I’ve tried ointments. I’ve tried everything. Nothing will work.”

Angelica laughed. “I’m not speaking of what will work and what will not work. I’m speaking of what you need. Just wait,” she said, “you’ll see.” For a second, it was as if she was going to say something more. But then she paused, looking down at me like she was seeing me for the first time. “You have scratches on your arms too,” she said. I yanked on the long-sleeved shirt I was wearing, hoping it’d hide the marks from the hedges. “And that bruise,” she said. Her hand hovered over my nose, but I looked away. “What happened? It’s something more than the migraines Vivian spoke of, isn’t it?”

“It’s nothing,” I said quickly. Too quickly, I realized. She wouldn’t believe me even if I told her what I’d seen in the maze. And if she did, then what? I’d have to explain my visions and she’d put that in my file and the state would have another reason to write me off as unwell.

“Nothing is ever nothing,” Angelica said.

For a moment, it occurred to me that I could take up Alaster on his offer. If I lied on Kasem like Alaster wanted me to, I’m sure he’d make my life here at Westfield easier. He had money and connections, and maybe his rich, fancy doctors could help treat my migraines, even if they couldn’t stop the visions. Because really, what would it matter if I aligned myself with the inheritor of Westfield if no one seemed to actually want him to take over the school? Not even his older brother.

“Can I ask you something?” I said. I didn’t wait for Angelica to give me her blessing to continue. “Honey mentioned you didn’t want Kasem Saint James to be on the main campus for some time. Why is that?”

Angelica bristled. “I can answer any question you’d like, but not about a patient. That would be a violation of my medical oaths.”

“So Kasem’s a patient?”

“He survived a very public stabbing,” Angelica said, her voice stern. “Which I’m sure you’ve heard about in the news. But, from your question, am I to understand that he was with you in the maze yesterday?” she asked. “Neither of you ought to have been in that restricted courtyard without clearance or an escort.”

“I got lost,” I said. She’d turned the question back on me, and now I was the one having to explain myself. “Then I ran into one of the hedges. That’s it.”

Angelica was silent for a long while. “I see,” she said. “And all this happened while you were on the first-year orientation tour with Provost Henning? Or was I hearing Vivian right when she said you didn’t attend it?”

I didn’t answer her.

“The university cares about your well-being, Sianna,” Angelica continued. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but there have been a few accidents when students wander campus where they shouldn’t be. We’ve put in the topmost security to prevent any such thing from occurring again this academic year, but we can’t be successful if we don’t get the participation of all students. Do you understand?”

“It won’t happen again,” I said.

She smiled. “Good. That’s what I’d hoped.” Angelica finished putting her things away. “If you decide that you do want to share what happened,” she said, “know that I’m always here. My office is in the west wing, off the corridor from the medical center. I won’t judge you, no matter how…” And then she paused, as if thinking of the right word to use. “No matter how unnatural what you might have experienced may seem. Do you understand? This building—Westfield itself—its history is long. I should know. I was once a Westfield lily myself and I’m an alum of the sisterhood Vivian told you about. If you’re considering joining it or any sorority, or staying here at Westfield, just know that there might be shadows lurking still.”

Before I could question her further, she was already at the door, and Vivian emerged on the other side of it, as if she’d been timing her reappearance. In her hand, she carried an electric kettle and a ceramic mug. A peace offering, like she knew she’d messed up by bringing Angelica.

“I hope to see you again, Sianna,” Angelica said. “But under better circumstances.”

As Angelica and Vivian passed each other, they faintly whispered an acknowledgment to one another in the same language Vivian had spoken when I’d first met her. Greek life had different chants and mottos, but this felt different, almost like they were communicating beyond words.