Lark (28 page)

             
No one has reported anything about Dugan and the Dökkálfar yet. No suspicious disappearances or murders. But I’m afraid it’s just the calm before the storm. I refuse to feel even slightly optimistic about the matter. I don't know how to explain my fear exactly, I just have a bad feeling that something terrible is waiting to happen the second we drop our guard. So I refuse to do so. I have been training hard, and next time I am face to face with Dugan, or any Dark Elf for that matter, I will be ready.

             
Hannah is chattering away about something that happened this weekend, but I am finding it difficult to pay attention to both her and the lab we are supposed to be working on.

             
“Mia!” Hannah shrieks. “Turn it off!”

             
I immediately return to planet earth and realize that while I was supposed to be gently heating the beaker, I have brought it to a full-fledged boil.

             
“Oh my God!” I exclaim, instinctively grabbing it to remove it from the flame.

             
With my bare hand.

             
“Crap!”  I drop the scalding hot glass beaker, shattering it into a million pieces and immediately cradle my hand to my chest, tears threatening to stream down my face. Before I can blink, Jacoby is by my side, shouting something about taking me to the nurse, but I can barely focus on anything except the excruciating pain in my right hand. Surely this warrants a trip to the emergency room, and Mr. Shilling must have said so, because Jacoby has me out of the door before anyone has a chance to stop him.

             
He doesn't take me to the nurse’s office, but instead he rushes me into the closest bathroom and locks the door before turning to assess the damage my bone-head move has wreaked on my hand.

             
“Good grief, Lark! What were you thinking?” He sounds exasperated as he finishes his inspection.

             
“I—wasn't,” I wince barely capable of coherent speech. My entire palm is swollen with violent red blisters.

             
“Well, go on. What are you waiting for? That has to be painful.”

             
I stare at him blankly. His face is blurry because of the wetness in my eyes, so I think I might be imagining his expectant expression.

             
“Huh?” I manage to get out.

             
“Heal yourself silly girl before you have to suffer any longer,” he says casually, brushing away new tears gathering in the corner of my eyes.

             
“I-- don't-- know if-- I can,” I admit, but even as I say the words I am already attempting to do it. I have never had a reason to try to heal myself before. Is it even possible? I'm concentrating as hard as I can, and finally the familiar tingle builds in the core of my body and moves its way through my veins until it reaches my injured hand. But it's not strong enough. Nothing happens.

             
“It's not working.” I look up at Jacoby as tears of frustration now join my tears of pain. Jacoby frowns.

             
“Try again,” he encourages. “Focus your mind on the healing.”

             
I try again, concentrating less on the pain in my hand and more on the actual magic. Once again I feel the tingling stir inside me, only this time it's much stronger and suddenly, the pain is gone. I look down at my hand. It’s completely healed.

             
“I knew you could do it,” Jacoby beams at me.

             
“That was amazing!” I want to jump up and down and squeal like a little girl.

             
“We'll have to go and get some bandages though. Otherwise you will have to explain to a room full of people how you miraculously healed yourself, and I’m guessing that probably wouldn't be the best idea,” he smirks.

             
“I'm sure I have some at the house. Mom and Paul will both be at work. We can swing by there before heading to Álfheimr.”

             
“Sounds like a plan. Nobody is going to expect us back here for the last four hours anyway, might as well go now,” he suggests and I know he isn't the least bit upset about skipping class.

             
“Okay. We should probably let Grey know.”

             
“What for? He isn't your only babysitter, you know,” he teases because he knows it's true. The idea of having a babysitter when I am turning eighteen in a couple of months, regardless of the reason why, sort of irritates me. Which I suspect is Jacoby's goal so I do what any mature, almost adult, would do and smack in the arm.

             
“Fine,” I give in. “Let's just go.”

             
He smiles winningly and grabs my hand. The world spins and we are in my bedroom.

             
“Where do you keep the bandages?” he asks me as I sit down. Transporting still makes me feel a little dizzy, but it doesn’t seem to have any negative effect on Jacoby at all.

             
“I can get them.”

             
“Nah, it’s okay, Lark. You take it easy. I'll grab them and doctor you all up. Then we can head to Álfheimr before you pass out.”

             
“Ha ha,” I say dryly but I don't argue. “In the bathroom cupboard, down the hall on the right.” 

             
I curl up on my side and wait for Jacoby to return. I feel guilty for not letting Grey know that we were leaving. He is probably going to flip out. I’m pondering how I’m going to handle that blow out when Jacoby saunters back in with a first aid kit. I don't put up a fight when he starts wrapping my hand. I won't technically need to wear the bandage until Monday, but I can't even muster the energy to argue with him.

             
“There. All set,” he says, proudly gazing down at his handiwork. It makes me laugh. “Ready?”

             
“Yep. Let's get this over with.” I usually can’t stomach transporting back to back like this. Transporting once leaves me slightly dizzy, transporting a second time in a short time span leaves me feeling sick to my stomach.

             
He grabs my newly wrapped hand and the next second we are back in my other room, the one in Álfheimr.

             
Freya jumps up in surprise at our sudden arrival. She must not have been expecting us so early.

             
“Oh, Mia! You gave me a fright!” she exclaims as she bends to pick up the freshly laundered towels. She must have been restocking my bathroom. I shower more here than I do at my own home. Who wouldn't with such exquisite facilities at their disposal? She catches sight of my injured hand and gasps audibly.

             
“We are sorry for scaring you, Freya but she sort of had an incident at school so we needed to come early,” he gestures to my hand. “We need a healer pretty quick.”

             
“A healer? But...uh...um...” Freya is so flustered that I smack Jacoby for his mean joke. He just laughs.

             
“Freya, relax! He is just kidding. I'm fine. I promise.” I wiggle my wrapped hand to reassure her.

             
Since I am currently the only known healer to exist, she was probably about to have a panic attack.

             
“Oh, thank goodness!” she exhales, finally able to relax enough to catch her breath. “Shall I inform His Majesty of your arrival?”

             
“Please do.” I try to make my voice sound as soothing as possible. “And thank you, Freya.”

             
She quickly curtsies and exits my room. I give the evil eye to Jacoby.

             
“That wasn't very nice,” I scold him.

             
“Oh, admit it, it was very funny,” he smirks at me.

             
“Yeah, well, the poor thing probably was on the verge of a heart attack.”

             
“I’m pretty certain elves don't have heart attacks, and if for some reason she did, what better company could she be in?”

             
Before I can respond we are suddenly joined by a very enraged Grey.

             
“What the hell, Mia?” He doesn't yell, he barely raises his voice at all, but oh my God can he sound scary when he wants to. “You didn't think it necessary to inform me that you were planning on skipping class for the rest of the day? Didn't you think I would worry when I didn't see you at lunch?”

             
“Whoa man, take it easy,” Jacoby interrupts. “It's not like we planned it.”

             
“I don't believe I was talking to you.” Grey glares at Jacoby pointedly and I can tell things are about to get ugly.

             
“Look, Grey,” I chime in before the boys start to rumble in my pretty bedroom. “I hurt my hand pretty badly. Like, at least second degree burns.” His eyes widen in shock. “I healed myself so I'm fine now, but we left before people could ask questions.”

             
The fire in Grey's eyes immediately simmers down to the familiar kind warmth that I am used to seeing in his indigo eyes.

             
“Are you alright?” he asks me softly.

             
“Yes, I'm fine. Really,” I assure him. “We left so suddenly to avoid questions. Everyone in class saw what happened, so I am sure they expected me to go to the emergency room or something. If I stayed, people would be suspicious.”

             
“I am sorry for overreacting. I don't like not knowing where you are.” He looks up at Jacoby. “Especially considering the company you keep.”

             
“Hey, Alberico trusts me. She is perfectly safe with me and you know it,” Jacoby says with a note of challenge in his voice. Not wanting to witness another male ego showdown, I step in between them.

             
“Can we just get started?” I plead.

             
“As you wish,” Grey says, the first to back down.

             
“After you, Lark,” adds Jacoby, politely gesturing towards the door.

             
What am I going to do with these two?

             
We decide to start off today's training session by practicing the 'mind attack' thing that Jacoby did to Grey the day we escaped from the Underworld. Since Jacoby is able to block out Dugan’s attack on his mind, he and Grey had the idea that if they practiced enough, they might be able to get a feel for how it works. That could come in handy when we finally face off with Dugan. If there’s a way to learn how to block these kinds of attacks and then teach the other elves how to do it, Dugan will lose a lot of his power over them.

             
So far, it just seems like a good excuse for Jacoby and Grey to inflict an awful lot of pain on each other.

             
I sit on the sidelines watching Grey's face distort in the pain while Jacoby tries to maintain his balance on the quaking earth, all the while dodging the occasional random tree that comes flying out of the ground aimed for his head. This is getting a little ridiculous. There are uprooted trees everywhere. The groundskeepers are not going to be too happy with us today. Even though I am sure it is entirely possible for an elf to just snap their fingers and put everything right again, it's probably still annoying. Normally, Grey and Jacoby limit their destruction, but neither is holding back today. I suspect our earlier fight about what happened at school has a lot to do with their aggression towards each other right now.

             
Idiots
. 

             
Jacoby snaps his head in my direction, narrowly dodging being skewered by a hundred year old oak.

             
“Did I do it?” an exhausted but pleased Grey asks Jacoby, who has completely released him from the 'mind attack' and is focused intently on me.

             
“
Say something else
,” I hear Jacoby ask in my mind.

             
“What?” I ask him out loud, causing Grey to cock his head and furrow his brow in confusion.

             
“No, say something else. Call me an idiot again or something
!” The eagerness in Jacoby's tone clicks the pieces together for me.

             
“
You heard me!”
I respond unable to contain my excitement.
“Can you hear me now?”

             
“I can.”
He beams proudly at me.

             
“Did I miss something?” Grey clears his throat uncomfortably while looking back and forth between Jacoby and me.

             
“Don't say anything to him just yet. Let's keep this between us for now
,” Jacoby says to me before responding out loud to Grey. “Sorry, I got distracted. I thought I saw something move in the bushes behind Mia. Looked like a bear or something. But no, you didn't do it that time. Sorry for getting your hopes up, Mr. Intensity.”