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“Can’t you like – write in sick or something?” I blurted, the words tumbling from my lips, unable to be held back any longer. “I can vouch for you or have another healer vouch.”
I was desperate, and the way Dad’s face twisted said he understood that very well, but then it hardened, and his shoulders squared, his jaw ticking. “That is enough, Azula.”
It was a warning, not trouble, but it would turn into exactly that if I kept going. I curled my fingers into my palms, feeling my nails dig into the flesh and turned on my heel to storm out, slamming the door shut. I could hear jars of glass through the cracked open windows, jingling as the walls shook from my slam.
It wasn’t just him. Jasper and Timothy both had gotten letters. I didn’t need to look at theirs or even ask what they said to know. I didn’t want any of them to go, and I hated that they were being summoned by some stupid letter and couldn’t do anything about it. I was nothing more than a teenage girl, not even a full-blown healer. I was a small village’s healer and nothing more. I hated that title so much. I didn’t even want to be a healer. I was simply stuck with the abilities, the talent, as people called it. I don’t even know if it was allowed to be called talent. From as far back as I can remember, it was ingrained in me what potions to use, what salves to make, what was and wasn’t good for cuts, scrapes, and any other wounds. Until the age of six, I had followed my mother to every person she tended to. After that, it was my grandmother. It didn’t end, and I didn’t see an ending. People liked my mother and what she could do and looked at me as to being able to do the same. I wasn’t her, but nobody besides my father and brother seemed to understand that.
“ZuZu.” Carli’s sympathy entered my ears before her arms wrapped around my shoulders and buried her face into my hair.
I bit my tongue to keep from crying. Not because I didn’t want Carli to see me cry. As my best friend, she’d seen me do more than that. But because I had no right to weep about this in front of her, it wasn’t fair if I did so.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered into my hair, pulling away with one more squeeze. “I have to get to the gardens, but come over for a drink tonight, okay? Granny would love to see you.”
I didn’t have time to respond before she ran off to her favorite place on the planet again. The girl loves her plants, not that I could blame her. At least Carli knew what she wanted to do was something she was allowed to do. Here I was, not allowed to go after my dreams because it was simply the law that witches didn’t get to fight.
Stupid law if you asked me. Not all witches were meant to be healers, and I knew that. Some witches couldn’t even stand the sight of blood and would faint at the mention of it. Little wimps, for sure, but it only proved my point. Sure, I didn’t faint or cringe at the sight or mention of blood, and I knew what I was doing, but that didn’t mean I wanted to be a healer. I wanted to be a fighter. I wanted to join the army, to be drafted the way my brother, father, and boyfriend had now been.
I kicked at the dirt and looked down at the street that led to the main part of the village, my eyes shifting to the direction of the port. Up here, the scent of the salty water was barely noticeable. We were too far, even if we could still see the shine of the blue with diamonds dancing upon the surface. It was a beautiful sight and the only good thing about the rundown village. A place that needed more help than we were allowed to have.
I ran my fingers through the white strands of my hair, catching them in a few knots that I pulled apart, remembering I had yet to brush my hair from having been pulled out of the house before even coffee.Coffee.I needed more coffee. I felt like I was going to drop without another cup.
“There you are,” my boyfriend announced, meeting me halfway up the path to the main area of the village.
He and my brother were walking next to one another, each holding a package wrapped in white that was soaking through with red.
“Butcher?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Jasper nodded. “Stan says thank you for your help. His son is still sleeping and doesn’t seem to be in any pain.”
I grimaced, pursing my lips tightly to keep myself from talking about it. I didn’t disclose what happened with clients with anyone unless they specifically asked me to do so. I wouldn’t even tell my boyfriend anything.
“Are you taking that to Dad?” I asked, jutting my chin at the meat.
Jasper shrugged. “In the freezer, maybe. Share it with them.” He jerked his head in Timothy’s direction, who gave me a big toothy grin, a dimple appearing on his right cheek.
I felt my cheeks flush as they always did when Timothy winked at me. The man knew how to make me feel good, that was for sure.
“They’ll eat it a lot faster than we do,” I half-teased and stepped around them. “I need more coffee.”
“Carli said you already had three cups today,” Jasper turned serious. “Are you sure about another cup?”
I rubbed my head, already feeling a pressure headache beginning to form. “Yep,” I muttered, not looking at my brother or boyfriend.
But fingers wrapped around my wrist and tugged my attention up anyway before he pulled me to him, brushing his lips against mine. We didn’t get into a deep kiss, not right in front of Jasper, anyway. Jasper had been hesitant from the beginning of our relationship and got weird when we showed affection around him. Not that I could blame him. The guys had been best friends for longer than I could remember. Also, I knew from experience how weird it was watching your best friend practically eat your sibling's face. At least Timothy and I had some respect in front of Jasper. He and Carli didn’t seem to care around me; if they did, they thought it was hilarious to make out in front of me.
Timothy pinched my chin between forefinger and thumb with his free hand, pressing his forehead against mine. My heart wrenched, now knowing that our time together was stretching thin. Each moment was precious for us.
“Can I see you tonight?” he whispered, his breath washing over me, voice so low in an attempt for Jasper to hopefully not hear him.
“I have mess hall duty,” I responded just as softly. “But afterward, yes.”
He smiled and brushed his lips against mine again, leaving a tingling sensation that never got old. I wanted to clutch him as he pulled back to never have to let go again. I wanted to hide all three men away from the world to protect them from the worst of what could happen. Especially Timothy. I knew it was selfish to want to hide my boyfriend away more than my brother and father, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want him to leave my side.
I turned and watched as the men returned to my family cabin, feeling the emptiness left behind by Timothy having let go of me. I would have to get used to it sooner than later.
Funny, I knew this was going to eventually happen. There had been signs for years now. But even so, I hadn’t been prepared for it, not mentally, anyway.
At the edge of the village, a small group was huddled in front of the bookshop, backs turned to me. They were in an uproar, disgruntled about something or another. Everybody was already on edge by the draft letters. What else could get them so riled up was beyond me. I tried peeking around a few shoulders, but the group was so pressed together I couldn’t get a clear image. Before I could clear the group, however, curiosity tugged my back and pushed me through the throng of people to get a good look at whatever was upsetting people.
