Chapter Eight

Amber glared at the Seelie that jumped up onto the edge of her bed.

The glare fizzled and died as she took the creature in properly.

The Seelie was fairly normal, as far as they went. White fur, long and soft, two tails that swayed behind it, and little paws that didn’t seem to carry any weight. Its eyes were sparkling blue and filled with life and something very close to joy.

The difference was the soft-pink nurse’s cap sitting on its head. It had a little red cross in its centre, set in a white heart outline.

“What are you wearing?” Amber asked.

That’s not what I meant to ask.

The Seelie sat. “The hat? We don’t always understand the magical boys and girls of this academy. Sometimes they insist that we wear strange things. We are the part of us that resides in this hospice, so the magicals determined that we must wear this hat.” The Seelie’s ears twitched and the hat wiggled.

“Right,” Amber said. I guess if there’s more than one around, it helps to tell them apart? Or someone just thought it was cute.

“We want to congratulate you on making it here.”

“You left me alone out there,” Amber said. She sat up straighter and pointed an accusing finger at the Seelie. “I almost died.”

“But you didn’t. And there was little we could do. We have our own gifts, but combat is not one of them. That is why we unlock the potential of magicals like you.”

“I want to go home,” Amber said. “I want to go see my dad.” She hated how young she sounded, but it was only her and the Seelie in the room.

The creature tilted its head to one side, considering. “In due time, we think that would be possible. But as it is, you are both too weak, and too powerful to return.”

“What does that even mean?” Amber asked.

“You do not yet know how to use your magic to pierce the veil yourself. And once on the other side, your gifts could be a danger to those around you, whether you wish it or not.”

“I’m not dangerous,” Amber said.

The Seelie stood up only to spin around once. “What would you have done if you had brought your father here with you?”

Her heart froze. “I could do that?”

“Quite easily,” the Seelie said. “Agartha attracts its own. Using magic on Earth will alway pull you back to Agartha. Until you learn more of myth and magic, you are a danger to yourself and others. We cannot make you, but we would encourage you to join the academy. You will learn what you must to do your duty.”

“Duty?”

“Fighting the nightmares, of course.”

Amber shifted, then pulled the blankets up higher to ward off the sudden chill. “You want me to stay here? What about my dad?”

“We have relayed information about your father to those on the other side. The human governments tend to understand that caring for the family of the magical is in their best interest.” The Seelie smiled a little. “There’s little to worry about. You have all the time you could need to learn and grow.”

“And until then I can’t go back?” Amber asked.

“Of course you can return. Academy training lasts three years. Every five months, the trainees are given a month’s time to rest and relax. Returning to Earth is a common way to do so,” the Seelie said. “We would assist you then. With five month’s training you will have mastered at least some of your powers. Enough to resist the pull, certainly.”

“So I have to attend, basically?” Amber asked.

The Seelie shook its head. “We encourage it. For your own sake. But we do not oblige you to do so. As long as you fight our common enemy, we are quite pleased. We only wish that you do so as efficiently as possible. Preferably without dying.”

“And the classes last three years?”

“Yes! They are not structured the same way as a school on Earth would be. Some take longer, others graduate faster. Most remain in their team and follow through with them. Others try to pave their own path. We can discuss it more later. There is a new semester starting in a few day’s time, with many new students coming in from Earth. I’m certain you will make many friends!”

Amber had more questions, a lot more, but the room’s door opened and a young man walked in. He had a doctor’s coat over a sky-blue outfit that was on the stranger side. A vest and jacket over shorts and knee-high socks. No bows or ribbons, but plenty of sharply cut lines.

“Uh,” Amber said.

“Hello Miss Green,” the boy said as he stepped in. He grabbed the Seelie by the scruff and set it on the floor before placing a box at the base of Amber’s bed. “I’m Morty, I’ll be your healer this evening.”

Amber nodded. “Sorry, hi. I’m Amber.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Morty said. “From your file you’re only suffering from a bit of magical oversaturation. An easy enough fix. I’ll be using a bit of healing magic on you as well, if you don’t mind. It’s better to be safe and all.”

“Okay,” Amber said. It was a little strange, but she could look past that. Morty looked to be a year or so younger than her, but he had the bored professionalism she’d come to attribute with doctors.

“Right, see this thing?” he asked as he popped the box open to reveal a sort of globe with some notches for grabbing onto. “This device takes raw magic and turns it into light. That’s it. It would be entirely useless if it wasn’t so bad at converting magic to light. But it is awful at it, which makes it great for wasting a lot of power in a decently controlled fashion.”

Amber took the ball when he handed it to her. It was cold, made of some sort of metal with little glass cutouts on its surface. Just touching it made something inside glow a little. “How do I use magic on it?” Amber asked.

Morty looked up to her, then stared down at his feet. He was silent for a bit before sighing. “Oh. You’re new-new. Alright. Using magic is different for everyone, especially since different gifts tend to come with different sorts of magic. You’ll have plenty of classes about it later, I guess. Point is, no two people use it the same way. What’s your gimmick?”

“Gimmick?” Amber asked.

“Your gift, unique power, talent... there are other words for it, but I hope you’re clever enough to catch on.”

“Oh,” Amber said. She gripped the ball a bit tighter. “So I just... magic at this?”

Morty snorted. “What an eloquent way of putting it. But yeah. You don’t have some sort of super-offensive power, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Good. The government sorts get huffy when you blow things up in the hospital. Anyway, some people like using visualization, or incantations. Whatever works for you.”

Amber nodded and brought the ball closer to her face. She still felt those cramps in her arms and legs and core, but they were easily forgotten as she focused on the ball. Magic. I’ve got magic, and I can use it. I did on dad. She felt her reserves like some sort of pack. A bag that was full to the brim and weighing her down.

She reached into that and grabbed some of the stuff within. It was a downright bizarre sensation, but it wasn’t unnatural. More like stretching a sleeping limb.

Grabbing some of the stuff, she pushed it into the ball, more and more and more. The ball glowed, glowing faintly at first, then brightening.

“So, you can follow instructions, that’s goo--”

The ball snapped.

And then Amber's hands shifted as they moved through empty space.

The ball was gone.

Something outside the room clanged and banged.

“What?” Amber asked as she looked at her empty hands.

Morty flicked the box open, then hummed as if to himself. “Right. I’ll be right back. Try not to move. And don’t use your magic.” He picked the Seelie with the nurse-cap up and tucked it into one of the large pockets on his jacket. “And you’re coming with me.”

Amber nodded. What happened?

She shook her head. She kind of knew what had happened. Had felt it as it charged up. Her magic had grabbed the ball and had moved it. But not physically. Her internal clock kept ticking, steady and calm, but for a moment it had felt as though there was a second clock spinning wildly alongside it.

Morty came back, ball in hand. “It was in the storeroom. Fell off the shelf and all,” he said. “So, I’ve got bad news, worse news, and good news.”

“Okay?” Amber said.

“The bad news is physicists will hate you.” He tossed the ball up and caught it again. “Our little faerie friend here confirmed it. You flung this back into its own past. Congratulations, you violated a few natural laws. Welcome to the club.”

Amber nodded slowly. “Alright?”

“Great, just the laid back, befuddled expression I’d want to see on someone that does casual time travel. Good news is that I bet that took a lot of magic to do. How do you feel?”

Amber shifted a little. “The cramps aren’t as bad? I think?”

“Great. Worse news. Unless you can figure this out, we’ll need to find a more robust way to get you to spend your magic. I don’t feel like running back and forth between here and wherever this ends up.” He shook the light-ball.

“Oh,” Amber said. “Well, I... could try not doing the time thing?”

“Nope,” Morty said. “I don’t have the time--hah!--or patience to mess around and teach you how to do magic. Take a course for it or practice on your own time. Now, if your magic is flinging things back in time, all we need is something that hasn’t moved in ages. Which means we’re going outside in a bit. But first, healing.”

Amber eyed the boy as he placed the ball next to her, then came closer.

“I’m going to touch your abdomen, is that alright?” he asked.

“Sure,” Amber said.

“Good. Just telling you because you only need to get smacked once to learn your lesson.” Amber tried not to squirm or move as the boy placed a hand over her stomach and pressed down a little. She felt a soothing warmth growing there before it moved across her entire body, as if she was being submerged in a warm bath.

Morty pulled his hand back and stared off into space for a moment. “Was that it?” Amber asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, you’re fine. A bit of strain in your muscles and some very minor damage near the vessels that conduct your magic, but for the most part nothing I wouldn’t expect from someone entirely new.”

“Thanks,” Amber said.

“Just my job. Now, let me get you a wheelchair, and we can go find a rock or something,” Morty said. “And no, you can’t just walk over, because I said so.” He waved her off and left the room.

Amber half-rolled and looked over the edge of her bed. The Seelie was on the ground, staring right back at her. “Your magic is interesting,” it said.

“Thank you?”

“It is not the first time we’ve seen that sort. But it is somewhat uncommon. Then again, gifts tend to be unique in style or execution. Finding two entirely identical powers, while possible, isn’t likely. Teaching you will be complicated, we think, but worthwhile.”

“So, the academy thing,” Amber said

“Have you made a choice?”

“As much of a choice as I have to make. You said the next semester starts soon?”

“It does. Most teams have been organized already. But there is some place remaining in one formation. I suspect it will be an interesting team-up for you, but if you can find it in you to accept the other three, then you might make a wonderful team.”

***