Page 26 of Son of a Witch

We all ate in silence. I could barely look at Tor. Couldn’t stomach my food. Sawdust swirled in my mouth, and I forced it down in a harsh gulp. Guilt a knife sawing at my heart. He’d never walk again because of my mistake. I’d let him down. Let the team down.

Astra warned me to give the thief avatar’s medicine a chance, and that I might not see immediate improvement with my headaches the way I had with the Elysian nectar. Desperate for the pain to end, I’d taken the quick and easy route, getting addicted to the nectar. Withdrawals from the medicine cost Tor his spine. It was up to me to make this right somehow, but darkness crowded me from every angle.

I passed a hand over the back of my neck and clamped down on it. What an idiot I was for thinking I could be normal by taking the nectar of the gods. With Astra’s help, I’d come to terms with that.

Words she’d called me came to mind. Special. Different. Unique. Nobody ever called me that. My parents always regarded me as a difficult handful because of my challenges. Everywhere tingled with the warmth of her words, like a caress of sunlight after a cloudy day.

Spoiled only by the tension stretching between the team. Defensive, suspicious notes pinged between Astra and Knoxe, leaving me wondering if they’d had a disagreement. She focused only on her food, her breaths low, sharp, resentful notes pricking me, making me roll my shoulders. Tor rebuffed every offer of my help, getting short with me, telling me to leave him alone. So I did.

Magick throbbed in the walls surrounding us, the lack of dampeners permitting me to retain my musical gift. Spells cast by the Sorcerers into the repaired stone walls held us prisoner and if we attempted to escape, we’d be electrocuted by some powerful lightning. Two prisoners had already tested the protective barriers and didn’t come out winners.

The crackle of magick sent pain slicing through my forehead. I blinked it back, tolerating the ache better. The thief avatar’s mixture took the edge off but didn’t eliminate it. I still had a few weeks until everything settled. Astra had likened it to depression medication where it took a couple of months to stabilize the brain chemicals. I could handle that so long as I didn’t get the headaches and made mistakes in the field.

Tor toyed with his food, mixing the stew with his spoon.

“If you don’t like the stew, Tor, I’ll get you something else.” I shot out of my seat to replace his meal. “The stir fry’s pretty good. Want that? And a soda?”

Bitter notes seared the air between us.

“I don’t need your pity. I can do it myself.” Tor’s harsh snap cracked like a broken piano string echoing all throughout my body.

Knoxe thumped his palm on the table. “Tor, pull your head in. He’s just trying to help.”

Astra held her breath staring at Tor, body thrumming with worried, disharmonious chords.

Tor dropped his spoon in his bowl and the clang on the plastic hammered like an out of tune note. “Thanks, buddy. Appreciate it. But I’m not hungry.”

“I understand, buddy.” I clapped Tor on the shoulder, my hand burning from the contact, making me yearn for the dulling effect of the Elysian nectar.

Extra sessions with Dr. Anders worked on reducing my sensitivity to touch and it helped a lot.

Tor stacked his water bottle and bowl on his tray. “Excuse me. I’m going to my room.” He nestled his tray on his lap, wheeling away quickly, leaving his platter on the counter for Cook to collect.

I put my spoon down in my food and pushed it away. Bile churned in my gut, and I couldn’t stomach another bite. Discordant frequencies battered my insides like a tumultuous storm assaulting the boats at a jetty.

“He didn’t mean it, Pascal.” Astra piled up her food to leave too. “He’s just upset. Everything’s fresh and raw.”

“Stay.” Knoxe clasped her wrist and jerked her back into her seat.

Hesitant notes spat off Astra as she wrenched her arm, but Knoxe didn’t let go. “Tor needs us.”

Knoxe rubbed his thumb over her flesh. “Give him some space to cool off.”

She jerked one more time, resisting, before sinking into her seat and scrubbed at her milky skin. “I’m mothering him again, aren’t I?” She buried her face in her hands and groaned. “Shit. I can’t help it. I’m just trying to help.”

I loved Astra’s compassionate side. Loved that she looked beyond my sensitivities to the man beneath. Loved that she loved and protected us fiercely. Loved that she showed me how to love and respect myself.

Astra scrubbed at her red cheeks and dashed at the tears springing. “I don’t know what to do. I’m worried for him.”

We all were, me worst of all. Overcompensating for my guilt to make Tor comfortable. Could I be any more pathetic? I didn’t know what else to do. Nothing I did would get him out of that chair, and I owed it to him to do everything else in my power to make it right.

Knoxe released her arm to brush her jaw, making her gaze snap up to him. “We can only support Tor through this difficult time.” He dragged the pads of his opposite fingertips along the table. “That means listening to him, helping him when he asks for it, not being overbearing and offering him pillows.” He looked right at me, drilling in the message.

Fine. I’d back off. Help only when asked.

Knoxe’s eyes hardened with steel. “And no one says a word to Tor about the circumstances leading to the accident. Not about me dragging Pascal out on the mission or Pascal’s headache. I will not have divisions causing the team to fracture again.”

Our leader’s… former leader’s quest for vengeance for Jaz’s death had torn the team apart, leaving us dysfunctional and lost. Then Astra arrived on the scene, the breath of fresh air we needed to resuscitate, heal, and unite. She’d snapped sense back into him, brought him out of his darkness, reminding him of what was important… protecting the team and getting us out of here. Something we couldn’t do when broken.

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