“Good Christmas?” asked Will, ducking under a snow-laden pine branch.

“Fine,” Matt replied ruefully, struggling to maintain his balance in the foot or so of fresh powder. Every step he took caused his legs to sink down almost to his knees. Will, who was several inches taller, seemed to be doing fine, but it was taking all of Matt’s concentration simply not to fall over every time he had to wrench a foot from the clutches of the snowdrift. “A lot of food.”

They’d materialised at the edge of the forest which marked the boundary of the grounds. Any closer, Matt knew, and Will risked running afoul of Morningstar’s Distruptances, which had – according to the latest email – recently been upgraded in light of the persistent paparazzi problem. Normally Matt wouldn’t have given the extended walk a second thought, but the combination of knee-deep snow and an upwards-sloping hill was proving to be somewhat challenging. It was only a matter of time, he predicted pessimistically, until he misjudged his footing and found himself face‑down in an involuntary snow-angel.

“How was yours?” he asked Will, half to keep up polite conversation and half to distract himself from his glumness at being back. At least he could see where he was going. The sky was blue and the air unmoved by any thoughts of wind or snowstorms. If they’d warped right into a blizzard Matt probably would have just given up and gone home, cover story be damned.

“Non-existent,” replied the teleporter as they passed through the last of the pine trees and Morningstar came into view, pale and distant in the dull midday sun, “My folks are Muslim.”

“And what’re you?”

“Sick of shuffling through this god-damn snow.”

“Amen to that,” Matt agreed, catching himself mid-stumble as his foot disappeared into a deep powder trench, “Wish they’d relax the Disruptances.”

Will shook his head. “Winters is nuts about security.”

“Yeah well, Winters can fly, I feel like the implications for the rest of us are kind of lost on him.”

“Hey man, preaching to the choir. You know how far I gotta walk to practice every day?”

“You should get a toboggan.”

“Then I gotta carry it back up.”

“Get Winters to build a-”

He’d been going to say “chair-lift”, but at that exact moment Matt’s foot hooked around something unseen and he went crashing face-first into the freezing powder. For a moment, all he could see and feel was dark blue and cold biting away at his face – then a sharp pain and hot wetness started radiating from the front of his right leg, which he’d landed on heavily when he fell. Matt swore, his inventive curse words muffled by the snow, and craned his neck back up into the sunlight, spitting out a mouthful of slush.

“Watch yourself man,” said Will, sounding concerned as he bent down and grabbed Matt by the underarms, helping him up.

“Thanks,” Matt snapped irritably, “I’ll keep that in mind.” He shook the flecks of ice from his hair and pulled his leg free from the snowdrift, stretching it gingerly out in front of him to get a better look. Sure enough, it was a mess. The force of the fall combined with the hidden rock he’d slammed into had torn right through his pants and left him with a messy-looking gash along his shin. Dark red globules of blood pumped through the tear, forming garnet splotches where they touched the snow.

“Owwww,” Will whistled, “Damn son.”

“It’s fine,” Matt said through gritted teeth, “I’m fine. Let’s just get inside.”

“Dude, you should get that cleaned up,” said the teleporter, surveying the wound, “You don’t know what’s in there, snow ain’t clean.” Matt opened his mouth to argue but then begrudgingly realised the older Acolyte was right.

“Fine,” he glowered, “Give me a hand.” He wrapped an arm around Will’s shoulders and put tentative weight on his injured leg. “Stupid snow.”

They limped slowly back up the hill towards the mansion as a sort of ungainly three-legged-man, taking care not to fall victim to any more unseen obstacles. Luckily, whether due to gravity or thoroughfare, the powder got progressively shallower the further they went, meaning by the time they reached the front doors their boots were crushing little more than an inch of compacted ice. The moment they were inside, Will pulled Matt left towards the Infirmary wing.

“Clumsy goddamn idiot,” Matt berated himself, looking down at his leg as they moved through the hallways. It was nice to be in out of the cold but the newfound warmth of Morningstar was eating away at the numbness and pain was starting to sink in. “Shoot, hold on, I think I’m getting blood on the floor.”

“Relax man,” Will assured him, maintaining pace, “It’s cool. Everyone’s bled on this carpet.”

“Great,” muttered Matt, watching the trickling wound, “Sanitary.”

They pushed through the doors to the Infirmary, Matt still shouldering his backpack.

“What happened?” asked Delores, one of the younger, more big-bodied healers. She looked up from her iPhone with a smile as they collectively limped inside and glanced at Matt’s leg. “You do something stupid?”

“Tripped on a rock,” explained Will, releasing Matt and straightening up.

“Neither stupid nor exciting,” the medic tutted, placing a hand on her hips as she peered down to get a closer look, “Ah come now, that’s just a baby boo-boo.” She flashed him a toothy smile that was in need of orthodontics and waved her hand towards the nearest empty bed. “Shoes and pants off honey, sit over there, we’ll get you cleaned up in no time.”

Matt dutifully did as he was told, moving to sit on top of the pristine bed sheets and awkwardly pulling off first his boots and then his partially-ruined ski-pants.

“Nice draws,” grinned Will at Matt’s Star Wars underwear.

“Shut up,” replied Matt, secretly glad he’d put on one of the pairs without holes in them. With his legs fully exposed, Matt was shocked at the size of the gash.

“How’d I do that on one rock?” he wondered to nobody in particular.

“You’re just special,” Will answered, completely unfazed by the sight of blood.

“Suppose we’ve all got our talents,” Matt agreed. His rueful contemplations were interrupted by Delores arriving with both fresh cloth and a clipboard bearing the requisite paperwork.

“Let’s clean this up a bit, hmm?” she said, “Then we can get to the fun part.” She grinned at Matt and handed him the clipboard, which Matt read while her gloved hands began dabbing gauzy fabric at the mess around his leg. He was about halfway through the form – trying to recall when he’d been vaccinated for HIV – when the sound of the Infirmary doors opening caused him to glance up.

Matt’s heart sunk. Jane. The empath strode through the door looking angry, defiant, and completely unchanged – save for what looked like a steel spike lodged in her side. Her eyes scanned the room, fixating first on the other healer on duty, who she nodded at in a no-nonsense, ‘here-I-am’ sort of way. A second later her gaze fell on Matt, sitting over bleeding on the bed. She froze. Their eyes met and for an instant, the empath’s mouth opened a fraction – but then her face hardened and she turned determinedly away.

“Lay down, Miss Walker,” the other healer, a tiny woman with an aura of authority disproportionate to her size, sighed with familiar contempt. She shook her head, reluctantly rising from the lounge chair she’d been reclining in. “Over there, wherever you like. You know the drill.”

“Almost done honey,” Delores smiled at him, oblivious to Matt’s distraction, “Just about ready to close you up.”

“Thanks,” Matt muttered, glancing back down at his own injury.

Behind him, he heard Jane’s healer clicking her tongue. “You’re lucky this lodged in a rib. Half an inch lower and it would’ve gone in your kidney.” A grunt. The woman’s voice paused. “I’m going to pull it out, try not to scream.” Another non-committal grunt.

“Aaaand one, two, threeee…” said Delores. Warm hands pressed either side of his leg and Matt looked down to see new skin scabbing and blooming over the injured area, the wound repairing before his eyes. After a few seconds, the gash was completely gone. Even the little hairs on his leg had grown back without so much as a scar.

“Good as new,” smiled Delores, putting on a new pair of gloves to gather up the bloody gauze. Matt glanced over at Jane; in the time it had taken his leg to heal, the spike had been removed from her side and she’d begun having her chest pressed at by the healer. She was still in the exact same position, her back resolutely towards him. Matt hadn’t heard her make a sound.

“Thank you,” he told Delores. He forced a smile, trying not to let his irritation show. Matt got to his feet, hesitating momentarily as his mended leg took the weight, pulled on his ruined pants, and quickly filled out the rest of the questionnaire.

“Come on,” he said to Will, not looking back, “Let’s get out of here. Thanks again,” he smiled at Delores. The large healer winked at him. As they walked, the teleporter glanced over his shoulder at Jane, who was still silently pretending neither of them existed. He frowned.

“You guys have a fight or something?” Will asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Matt muttered, as they strode out of the Infirmary, “It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” replied Matt, “Totally. A hundred percent. I just need a drink. You know what-?” he paused mid-sentence and stopped in his tracks, turning to Will. So help him God, he was going to get kicked out of this place. “I think we all need a drink. Everyone. The whole damn Academy.”

“What do you mean?” asked the teleporter.

“I mean,” said Matt, starting forward again at a brisk and purposeful pace, “It’s almost New Years’ Eve. Let’s have a goddamn party.”