“So how is Tristan?” I asked. “You saw him, right?” As soon as I mentioned his name, I could feel the blood pulsing at the base of my throat. I had never felt like this about Mark. I didn’t know if I ever wanted to feel like this about anyone. It wasn’t comfortable. It was downright frightening.
“Yes. I went to see him, just like you asked. He’s awake, and they were talking about letting him have some food, too. It looks like he’s doing as well as you are now.” Mark smiled.
“Good. Thanks,” I said. That was all the attention I could spare for Mark. I could see Tristan in my mind, his blue eyes, his bulging biceps, his megawatt smile. “When can I see him?” I asked. My whole body was throbbing now. One thing that had been good about being unconscious—I hadn’t felt this desperate about Tristan then.
“Maybe tomorrow, they said.”
“Why not today?”
“Well, I didn’t ask. But Tristan isn’t ready to get out of bed. And I don’t think you are, either.”
“Get me a wheelchair,” I said. Simple, right? I waved him toward the door.
“Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Mark rubbed his chin. “Izzie, you almost died, and so did he. You’re both still recovering. Exposure to the germs outside this room could be bad for you.”
“This is a hospital, Mark. How many germs can there be here? I’m sure I’ll be fine.” I did not want to lie on this bed arguing with him—not when I could be with Tristan.
“Let me go talk to the nurse,” said Mark, heading for the door.
“No!” I lurched out of bed to stop him. It was like being on a ship at sea, except I was the sea. I couldn’t find my footing.
Mark reached for me, but I sagged into the chair beside the bed.
“Go. Get. A. Wheel. Chair,” I panted.
“Izzie, you’re not thinking straight,” said Mark. “I have to do what’s best for you here.”
I looked him straight in the eyes, and I saw him flinch. “I want you to get me a wheelchair and take me to Tristan’s room. I need to thank him for saving my life. It will take five minutes. It seems like the least you can do for me, after all I’ve been through.”
I felt horrible manipulating him like that. But what else could I do? I had to see Tristan. It was for both of us, not just for me.
“I could figure something else out, maybe,” said Mark. “A video feed with computers and webcams.” Mark had always been good with technology.
I gritted my teeth and tried to remember that I had once loved Mark with all my heart. I wanted to again. As soon as I fixed things with Tristan. “I need to see him in real life. He didn’t save my life on a screen, after all.”
“Well—” said Mark.
“You’re the one who will be doing the work, Mark. I just have to sit in the wheelchair while you push me around.”
“But Tristan—”
“He won’t be getting out of bed, either. And it’s not like I’m going to infect him with anything.” Still, I wasn’t sure I could keep myself from kissing Tristan, even if Mark was there. I would definitely have to make this a private conversation.
Mark brushed a hand across my face, to push my hair out of my eyes.
I backed away.
“What?” he asked.
“Just get me to see Tristan.” I knew I sounded angry. I was angry. But not at Mark. Mostly I was angry at the love philtre.
Mark sighed. “If that’s what you want me to do, I’ll do it. I think it’s crazy, but I guess that’s what I love about you. You’ve always been a little crazy.” He smiled gently, which only reminded me of Tristan’s bigger, better smile. It was not fair to Mark, but that was the way it was for now.
Mark left the room to look for a wheelchair. While he was gone, I fidgeted. Then it occurred to me that I was going to see Tristan soon and I had no idea how I looked. I had been asleep for three days. Before that, I had been slobbered all over by a magical two-headed dog. It couldn’t be good.
I lurched toward the bathroom and looked in the mirror. It wasn’t too bad. I smoothed out my hair with my fingers and washed my face. I found a toothbrush and toothpaste in a bag below the sink. I had never brushed so hard in my life.
When I was done, I looked at myself again. Maybe if I had some makeup? I could ask Mark to go get it for me. Would that be too much of a giveaway, me wanting to look good for Tristan but not caring about what Mark thought?
Just then, Mark came back in with a wheelchair. He looked behind him. “Okay, let me help you get in here.”
I knew he would try to touch me again, so I acted like I was fine. I was woozy, but I pretended to be steady and was sitting in the wheelchair in no time.
“Are you sure about this?” Mark asked.
“I’m sure, I’m sure. Will you get on with it?” I said, irritated with the delay.
Mark opened the door and checked up and down the hallway. “There are two nurses talking. Let’s just wait a few minutes.”
I tapped my fingers impatiently.
“Okay, they’re gone. Are you ready?” asked Mark after a few minutes.
“Yes,” I hissed at him.
He pushed me to the door. “He’s down this hall, and up the elevator,” whispered Mark. He didn’t have to tell me! He just had to get me there!
We had made it halfway down the hall when Mark suddenly pushed me into an empty room. “Nurse!” he warned me. In a few minutes, he pushed me out again and into the elevator. “Whoo! That was fun. You always make me feel like I’m alive.”
That made me feel terrible. Maybe I should just let him down easy and give up trying to end the love philtre. But it was all so complicated. Anyone who thought magic made things easier had never used magic.
Luckily, we got to Tristan’s room without further incident. Tristan was asleep, but as soon as I saw him, I wanted to touch him. Mark pushed the wheelchair close to the bed, but I inched it even closer with my feet.
“You can go now,” I said curtly.
“You sure you’ll be okay?” said Mark.
“I think Tristan has already proved he can protect me,” I said.
There was a long silence.
I could have tried to take it back. On the other hand, maybe it was for the best.
“Yeah,” said Mark slowly. “Call me when you need me,” he added as he closed the door. “If you do.”
As soon as Mark was gone, I focused all my attention on Tristan. He looked sort of yellow, and there were bruises up and down his face, neck, and chest. Maybe below that, too, but I didn’t peek beneath the hospital gown, however tempted I might have been.
“Tristan?” I whispered. I put a hand on his arm.
“Isolde,” he said in that beautiful baritone voice of his. Then he opened his eyes and started. “Are you real?” he asked.
“I’m real,” I said. “I’m right here.”
“You did not die.”
“No. You saved me. Don’t you remember?” Hadn’t anyone told him? Maybe he hadn’t been awake enough.
“I remember, but I was afraid it was a dream, what I wished had happened. I also remember the slurg eating you, and me coming to you too late. They are very vivid memories, I assure you.” His crisp way of speaking made me melt.
I wondered about the strange language he had spoken on the day we’d met, not even a week ago. The sound of those words had been so sexy. Maybe I could get him to do that again later.
“We’re both alive. We’re in the hospital. They thought you were going to die.”
“You saved me,” he said. “I can taste your magic on my tongue.”
Don’t go there, I thought. Don’t make me think about your tongue. Just being next to him was hard enough.
“It was my mom’s magic,” I said. “She gave you a healing potion in the ambulance.” But I remembered she had also asked me to spit into it. At the time, I hadn’t thought I had any magic of my own. “I need to talk to you, Tristan. About why you think you love me.”
“Yes?” His eyes were very
wide.
This was my last chance. “I gave you a love philtre. Do you remember that drink? The Sprite bottle on the day we met?”
“Yes,” said Tristan. “I remember.”
“Well, it had magic in it.”
“Yes. I knew that. I could smell it.”
What? “Why did you drink it, then?” I remembered now that he had said it tasted off.
“It was from you. I trusted you,” said Tristan. “I knew any magic you used could not be bad, my love.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I am sorry,” he said, looking away.
He was so adorable when he did that! It was hard to have a normal conversation with him when I wanted to smother him with kisses. But we had to be sensible here. “I brought it to school for Branna.”
“Brangane?” said Tristan, pronouncing it differently, as three syllables instead of two. “The tall one who believes she can still be your friend?”
Whatever that meant.
“The tall one who could kick your butt,” I said. “And she needs a boyfriend. So I saw you and thought you were cute enough, and maybe you would be a good match.”
“Hmm,” said Tristan. Obviously, he did not think it was a good idea.
I didn’t really think it was a good idea anymore, either. Branna needed someone more even-tempered. Someone like—well, I would worry about that later. Although maybe I should have learned my lesson about love philtres at this point. “Anyway, what I am trying to ask is if you know how to reverse a love philtre. Nothing against you,” I said. I licked my lips and couldn’t stop myself from wishing I could lick his. “But I think people should fall in love out of their own free will.” Did I sound like my mother?
“Love philtre. But there was no love philtre,” he said. “That is not why—”
“It is why,” I interrupted. “Look, I thought maybe you knew something new about magic, about how to counteract a love philtre. Haven’t you been around magic all your life?” Unlike me.
“Well, yes,” said Tristan. “But—”
“Then tell me about love philtres,” I said.
“A true love philtre can never be counteracted,” said Tristan, his face a study in earnestness.
I sighed. “Then it looks like we’re stuck with each other, at least for a while.” I had no reasonable expectation of breaking the love philtre now, but I clung to the hope anyway. At the same time, I was on fire for him. I could literally feel my temperature rise now that I was in the room with him.
“They will keep coming,” said Tristan, his hand out-stretched. “You must know that.”
I jumped when he touched me. Then I grabbed his hand and rubbed it back and forth against my cheek. “Who?” I said absently. Maybe Mark had been right. If I wanted a rational conversation with Tristan, I should have it remotely.
“The servants of your father’s enemy,” said Tristan. “Like the slurg. Your father was very powerful. When you were born, they wanted to kill you while you were young and weak, not yet ripe in your magic. Your father protected you. But then he died and you and your mother disappeared, cut off from all contact with the magical world. No one could find you. Many have sought for you, moving from place to place in hopes of discovering you.”
Tristan had come from the magical world because he was looking for me? Was it luck that had brought us together, or something else?
“Now that you have used your magic, however, they will be able to find you,” said Tristan.
“What did I do with it?” I asked. I still didn’t know.
“The day I arrived at Tintagel. You were on fire with it. I knew I had found you the moment I saw you. I thought you meant for me to see. You are using it now. Did you not know?”
“I am?” Could I turn it off? I felt hot. Was that magic?
“Your magic calls to me,” said Tristan. His gaze was intent on me, and I groaned and got out of the wheelchair. The pain of standing was nothing compared to the pain of not kissing him. I pressed against him on the bed and felt his lips against mine.
I think I went unconscious after that, or maybe I was delirious with happiness.
The next thing I knew, Tristan was talking again, and my head was nestled next to his on his hospital bed.
“You are the one who will save us,” said Tristan.
“What?”
“You will save us. I know it is true. You will free us from the serpent who enslaves us. We have been waiting for you.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“I will show you,” said Tristan. “They will be eager to see you. When you are ready, of course.”
“Ready for what?”
I heard a knock on the door and leaped away from Tristan and back into the wheelchair, just in time, because Mark walked in. “You okay? You look tired,” he said.
“Yeah, I’m tired,” I said.
“You ready to leave now? I was worried you had been in here too long.”
Was he suspicious? He didn’t seem to be. He was the kind of boyfriend who trusted his girlfriend completely, and it was unfair that I wasn’t a better girlfriend. I would have been, but then the love philtre got in the way.
“I’m going to wheel her out now,” said Mark. “I really do appreciate everything you did for her, Tris.” He shook Tris-tan’s hand firmly.
I stared at the two hands, one pale, one darker. But it was the pale hand I thought about once I was back in my own room.
Chapter 13
Mark helped me back into bed. “I love you so much, Izzie. I just want you to get better so we can be together again, all right? I’ll be here for you.”
It was cowardly of me, but I pretended to drift off to sleep. Mark stayed with me, sitting at my bedside. When he tried to touch me, I rolled over or groaned. I didn’t want to deal with him now.
After what seemed like forever, Branna came in. “How is she?” Branna whispered.
“I think she’s going to be okay,” said Mark.
I heard the scrape of a chair and the sound of Branna sit-ting down next to Mark. I was suddenly curious about what they were going to say about me. And you know what they say about eavesdroppers.
“You can’t blame yourself for this,” said Branna.
“Of course I can,” he said. “I let her get attacked by a rabid dog, and I didn’t even know she was in trouble.”
“She was the one who walked out of the game,” said Branna.
“And I asked her to take my garbage for me. That was the last thing I said to her.”
“You asked her to do something nice for you, and she agreed. What’s wrong with that? If she didn’t want to do it, she could have said no.” Branna sounded hostile.
“I must have done something to make her mad,” said Mark. “I wasn’t paying enough attention to her. Isn’t that what girls always say about their boyfriends? That they become complacent and stop doing all the little things that made their girlfriends fall in love in the first place?”
Mark is the kind of guy who would know something like that. He probably read a book about how to treat a girlfriend.
“If she’s not in love with you anymore, it’s not because of you, Mark,” said Branna. What was she doing?
“It has to be,” said Mark desperately. “Because if it’s not, then I can’t fix it. And I have to be able to fix it. Tell me what she wants, Branna. You know her better than I do. I’ll do anything.”
Branna sighed.
“Please tell me. You don’t hate me, do you, Branna?”
“I don’t hate you, Mark,” said Branna.
“Then what should I do? Or what should I not do?”
There was a long pause. I could have pretended to wake up then, but I didn’t. I wanted to hear what Branna would say. I had made the love philtre for her because I wanted her to be happy. I thought we were best friends, but she wasn’t acting like it now.
“If you really want to know, I think maybe you hover too much,” said Branna. “You make her feel smoth
ered. You should give her some space.”
Okay, that wasn’t bad. Branna was giving good advice to Mark. I never should have doubted her.
Mark groaned. “I should have known. She feels like I’m hanging on her all the time, doesn’t she? Branding her as mine or something. I just like being with her, and I like to touch her.”
“Not every girl would dislike that,” said Branna. What was that supposed to mean?
“I know, but this is Izzie,” said Mark. “What else?”
“Well, you could ask her about her dreams in life. What she wants to do after high school.”
Mark had never asked about that. And I was glad, because I didn’t know what I would tell him. Mom always said that I should wait and see, that I might change my mind about what I wanted to do when I was older. Now that I knew I had magic, I could see why she had said that. Magic changed everything.
“I never thought of that. She must think I’m an idiot. Anything else?” asked Mark.
There was a long silence.
“I can see you’re thinking of something, Branna. I know that look in your eyes.”
“Really? I sort of thought you didn’t even see me, Mark. I’m just Izzie’s friend, the background music. The wallpaper. The ditto.” She sounded bitter. I had heard that tone in her voice before, but I thought she was just jealous that I had a boyfriend.
“You’re not forgettable, Branna. I see you. I just don’t want to … you know, overstep the line. I have to keep Izzie as my top priority.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“You’re very pretty, Branna. Is that what you want me to say?”
“I don’t want you to say anything. Not if it’s a lie.”
“I’m not lying to you,” said Mark. His voice was a little hoarse.
“No? You just want to make sure I tell you what I know about Izzie.”
“That’s not—” Mark began. “Okay, that is true,” he said, correcting himself. “But I’m not lying. I do think you’re pretty.”
“Just not as pretty as Izzie.”
“You and Izzie are pretty in completely different ways. She’s … well, she’s like a little spark in the darkness, like a star on a moonless night. And you’re like the sunshine, Branna.”
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