Amusement twitched my lips. “The two are not mutually exclusive.”
“They tend to be when you hit my age. Let’s get your back sorted out.” She tossed her phone onto her bed, then walked over to mine. “The bastard certainly took a good chunk out of you. He only missed your spine by a few centimeters.”
“Will it heal okay?” I already had more than enough scars on my body, thanks to damn demons—or half-demons, as was the case when it came to the melted-looking burn scar that now ran the length of my right side. I really didn’t need anything else.
“Of course it will. Now lie still while I get to work.”
My immunity to magic had never curtailed Mo’s ability to heal the various cuts and scrapes I’d gotten over the years. Apparently, this was due to the fact that, although I’d never had access to the De Montfort gift of healing, it nevertheless resided somewhere in my DNA.
As explanations went, it didn’t really make a lot of sense, but that was a very common theme when it came to Mo and answers.
She pressed her fingers to either side of the wound, then her power rose, a wave of heat that swept through my body, easing the aches and chasing away the pain. My skin rippled and twitched as it was healed from the inside out and, though it didn’t hurt, it felt weird.
The warmth of her magic and her touch finally left my skin. “Right, that’s all the major wounds healed. We’ll check the scrapes tomorrow, but the holy water should have taken care of any possible infection there.”
She flopped onto her bed, closed her eyes, and lightly rubbed her forehead. Guilt flickered through me, though I knew nothing I could have said or done would have stopped her. The best I could do now was look after her—though in a way that couldn’t be considered ‘fussing’, as that was something she absolutely hated.
I swung my feet off the bed. “You hungry?”
“Enough to eat a horse.”
I padded over to the small table. After flicking through the information booklet, I said, “We have the grand choice of Chinese, fish and chips, kebabs, or pizza if you want takeaway. There’s plenty of pubs, but given the state of my clothes, they’re out.”
“I feel like pizza—do they deliver?”
I flipped over the page. “No, but I can borrow your clothes and walk down there. It’s not far.” I hesitated, frowning at her. “Do you want me to pick something up for that headache?”
A smile tugged her lips. “If there’s anything still open, that would be good.”
Which meant the headache was bad. Mo hated taking tablets almost as much as she hated being fussed over—and for good reason. Most of her herbal concoctions worked far better and quicker than the pharmaceutical equivalent.
I glanced at my watch. It was close to eleven, so I was cutting it fine if I wanted to find a SPAR or Co-Op Supermarket open. “You want anything else? A cup of tea before I go, perhaps?”
She shook her head.
I grabbed her pants and sweater and pulled them on. Thanks to the fact that Mo loved the loose Bohemian look, they fit perfectly, even though I was at least one size bigger than her. She also had a love for bright and clashing colors, though these harem pants were at least a staid pink floral print. They did clash rather alarmingly with the orange coat, however.
Once I’d shoved on my still-wet shoes, I grabbed the room key and her purse and headed out. Thankfully, the Co-Op was still open, so I ducked in to get her painkillers and some chocolate, then continued on to grab our pizza. They were already packing up for the night, but I obviously looked in need of a serious feed, because they good-naturedly made my order.
Mo was asleep by the time I got back, but stirred as I placed the pizza on the small table. “That smells good.”
“And there’s painkillers for starters, and chocolate for dessert.”
“You’re spoiling me.”
“It’s about time I repaid the favor.” I tore the lid off the box, then placed half the pizza onto it. After handing it and the painkillers to her, I plonked down on the chair and reached for a slice. “What did Barney want to see you about?”
She grabbed the bottle of water from her bedside table and downed the painkillers. “His nephew enhanced the photos of the glyphs you found on the back of the throne, and he wanted me there to translate the words.”
I raised my eyebrows. “And that couldn’t wait?”
A smile tugged her lips. “You have to understand that this is probably the most exciting thing that’s happened to him—and Ainslyn’s council in general—in a very long time.”
I laughed. “And here I was thinking you were the most exciting thing that had happened to him, but maybe I’m being biased.”
She smiled. “On a personal basis, I most certainly agree. But aside from the occasional demon incursion, there hasn’t been a whole lot for the council to deal with. Not for the last fifty years or so.”
“They may find themselves quickly wishing the status quo had continued. Does he know the sword has been claimed?”
“Not as yet.” She wrinkled her nose. “I thought a face-to-face would be best for that.”
I picked up a second slice of pizza and bit into it. “If the main gateway does go down, what are we going to do? Uhtric had the advantage of a full witch army behind him. We haven’t that option these days.”
Only scattered witch councils and seven witch lines whose power and fighting skills had faded with every new generation.
“We do have the High Witch Council in London. They still have the power and the ability to draw all seven houses together.”
The High Witch Council had once been the equivalent of the Privy Council, and responsible for advising the king and his executive on matters of the state. These days they were little more than an oversight council that settled disputes between witch houses. Of course, said disputes—while rare—were often brutal, bloody, and complicated, and only the most powerful spells could cut through all the crap and magic to ferret out the truth. Mo had once been one of five witches tasked with that ferreting, though it had been a long time before she’d stepped in to raise Max and me after the death of our parents.
“That’s still not going to help if the main gate is opened and the entirety of Darkside floods out.”
“Maybe not, but also remember that human weapons have seriously advanced since Uhtric’s day.”
“It was still witches who made the difference at the hospital when the demons went after Henry.”
“Only because there were more demons than military present at the time. Had it been the reverse, it might have been a different story.”
But still the same result. I squashed down the sadness and reached for a third slice of pizza. To say I was hungry was an understatement. “Has anyone actually informed the High Council what’s happening?”
“Barney sent a missive when the tower’s vaults were attacked, but there’s been no chance to update them on more recent events.”
The King’s Tower situated in Ainslyn was the only intact remnant of Uhtric’s castle. These days, it was little more than a tourist attraction and museum, though there was a secret witch repository tucked within the vaults—one that had recently come under attack from a witch working with both Darkside and the heir. A witch other than Tris, that is.