Chapter 20

“How are you feeling” Thomas asked, looking me up and down stopping at my abdomen as if he could see the puncture wound. “ I don’t want you to over tax yourself.” Thomas wrapped a strong arm around me, leaning in to plant a small kiss on my cheek, I leaned into the kiss, a smile on my face.

“I feel fine,” I shrugged, “Better than I have in a very long time. Whatever you and Nick did to me, it seems to have worked.” I pulled away slowly from him, stood up and walked to the closet.

“No pain?” He asked. I turned to look at him as he spoke, my hand resting on the knob of the door.

“No,” I opened the door, bent down and pulled out my sneakers, closed the door walked back and sat down beside him. He got a serious look on his face as he turned slightly towards me on the sofa.

“Amy, there was a lot of internal damage, I hope that it heals correctly.” He sighed and I instantly went stiff wanting to know, but not wanting to know what he was about to say. I didn’t like that look on his face, or the tone in his voice. It was fear and disappointment. Suddenly I was scared of what might have happened to me, I knew I had almost died, but he’d saved me hadn’t he? “If it doesn’t” He continued as if he was forcing himself to spit the words out because he didn’t want to say them to me.

“What?” my heart was caught in my throat, I wanted to cry, and yell at him at the same time. “ What if doesn’t heal correctly?” I demanded, “Say it Thomas! What if it doesn’t heal correctly?!” I tried to stay in control of the heat I could feel beginning to fill my eyes, as my tears collected in the corners of them. I couldn’t cry, not now, it was too important that I hold myself together. I had almost died, and yet I walked away from it, there should be nothing that could have hurt me worse than what my sister had tried to do to me last night. Thomas turned his head away from me, it was as though he couldn’t say it or didn’t want to say what he feared. I grabbed his arm, yanking hard trying to make him look at me.

“Thomas, what could happen if my wound isn’t healed correctly?” I asked him again, the sharpness of a well honed dagger in my voice. Thoughts passed through my head almost too fast for me to grab on to any of them, then it hit me. I reached for my midsection, there was not even the faintest trace of a scar or the trauma I had gone through. “Are you saying that even though I’m totally healed on the outside perfectly, there could be something wrong with my stomach or intestines or …” my voice sank “my reproductive system?” Thomas looked back at me and for the first time in our lives, he had tears in those beautiful stormy blue green eyes. I reached for him, I wanted to comfort him, but he pulled away from me, got up from the sofa, and walked out of my reach.

“Amy, I tried to heal everything, I hope I healed everything” came through sobs, “But I am not as good at healing as our healers. My skill isn’t as developed, I am more like a field medic than a true healer.” He wiped the tears rolling down his cheeks. “ I love you, and my first thought was I had to get the bleeding stopped, and save you. So, I did what I could, I’m just not sure if it was enough.” I got up walking towards him, I put my arms around him as I reached him. He instinctually laid his head on my shoulder, How could I not realize how much pressure he was under, I thought to myself. We stood there for a long time, holding each other, both of us crying like babies. This was all so much how were we ever going to make it through it. I had so much yet to learn, and it seemed that the only one willing to teach me was Thomas, He seemed to be the only person who thought I was worth the effort, of course he’d always thought that way, since the first time we’d met as kids, I knew this because I felt the same way about him.

The tears subsided, we stood still, looking at each other. “Thomas, I need to learn.” I looked up into his eyes. “That is if you’re willing to teach me?” He looked down at me, a smile etching across his lips.

“I’ve always been willing to teach you everything that I know.” he said. “And I think we can start when you’re ready, magic I can teach you here, but combat we will have to wait until we have more room, and after you take a few classes in basic self defense.” I nodded, excitement washing over me that he’d be finally be showing me more, teaching me more.

“Yes sir,” I beamed, “I am a most willing student.”

“So, do you still want to go shopping?” He asked smirking. I couldn’t do anything but laugh at him.

“Sure, unless you have other plans?” I chided. He slowly took me in his arms kissing me passionately, deeply. The sadness in his eyes eased slightly, as we shared ourselves with each other briefly in that moment, that kiss, so deep, so rich, so decedent it was like savoring a bite of the darkest, the sweetest chocolate. I came up for air panting, unable to catch my breath. Arching an eyebrow at Thomas, a lusty smile playing at my mouth, wanting more, but unwilling to admit it to him. “ So, is this part of what the alterative to shopping is?” I questioned him playfully.

“No, but I thought it might get you going.” He laughed. “Now, take all the pent up emotion and energy, and direct it at the candle on the coffee table.” he directed, “Think of a flame, just large enough to light the candle.” I tried, I tried to channel the energy that was flowing through me, the sexual energy that he’d awakened, into a small flame.

I concentrated on the candle, on the wick bursting into flame, nothing happened. I could feel the excitement starting to trickle away into frustration as I tried harder. “Ok take a break.” he said to me. “If you let frustration eat at you, it will damper your powers, cause them not to work or only work to a lesser degree.” Thomas flicked his eyes, and the candle lit, out of no where the wick came alive, it just as easily seemed to extinguish as a small breeze stirred in the room, as though a set of lips pursed to blow it out. Thomas repeated the exercise several times for me, trying to show me what to do, how to do it. “Now,” he looked at me, “try again.” I closed my eyes, and envisioned the wick of the candle lit, to my surprise, when I opened my eyes, it was. I closed them again, and repeated it only this time replacing the thought of flame with that of wind, small and directed only at the candle. I opened them and again it had worked.

I wanted to be able to manifest it as quickly as Thomas, I tried this time with my eyes open, and again nothing. What good was a magic user who couldn’t even cast spells with their eyes open? Frustration started to creep back in to my mind, clouding it, blocking the magic that flowed through me. I couldn’t concentrate, thoughts ran through my mind of my childhood, how I was never enough. I was again not enough, I couldn’t even cast the simplest of spells. I let out a disgruntled sigh. Thomas looked at me, a small smile on his face, he knew I was frustrated. “Ok, ok, take a deep breath,” he laughed, “we’ll try again in a couple of moments.” He walked into the kitchen and came back with two bottle of water, tossing one towards me. “See, it was a natural reaction.” he pointed at the bottle, “you caught it.” I nodded, but still didn’t really understand. “Magic is the same way, there are two types, Offensive, where you perform an action free of another’s actions, and Defensive, where you respond to some one else’s actions, usually defending yourself or others.” He said, trying to sound serious, and knowledgeable. He was both, and I knew it, but to see him in such a role, it was hard for me not to tease him about it.

“Now, try again.” he said, “but don’t think about it, just do it. What you’re trying to do is an Offensive magic, free of other’s actions. It’s an extension of you, of your power and yours alone.” He showed me again, how quickly he could light and put out the flame, without effort. “You have to learn to crawl before you can walk.” he said, “consider this your first steps.” He backed away from the table where he was standing, and left the room, heading back into the kitchen. I could hear him going through the fridge, as if searching for something, I watched the doorway to the kitchen for a few moments, trying to clear my head of all the garbage, the feelings of being inferior all my life. I turned to the candle, it lit!

“YEAH!” came out of my mouth “THOMAS! Thomas! I did it! See!” His boyish smile washed over his features, he pulled me close, kissing me softly.

“I knew you could,” He said softly, “You only had to try, honestly try. You had to stop telling yourself that you couldn’t do it, and let yourself believe in the fact that you could.” I knelt back down by the table, without thinking a small breeze came up, and all at once the candle was out. “Now practice until it just becomes second nature” he instructed. I did as he said, I spent the rest of the evening on and off practicing lighting the candle, and putting it out. “Very good.” Thomas complimenting me on my mastery of the skill. “But, don’t put too much stock in this skill alone.” he cautioned. “It’s just the beginning of what you have to learn which is so much more.”

“Thomas?” I looked up at him, “What is the worst thing that could happen if I didn’t heal correctly?” I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know, but I had to ask. He looked away, I could tell he didn’t want to think about it, much less talk about it, almost as if he was afraid talking about it could make it real.