42 - Revelation

  42 - Revelation

  Oliver settled the crates of reagents in the growing reserves before turning and taking Maeve’s from her arms. She stood back, hands on hips, admiring their handiwork. She felt rather proud they’d managed to cart the whole of the delivery down here while the others set up the ward to begin their mass production of medicines. After Luka was moved to the Voss’ estate, the tower would become the Second Order’s official military base, and the healers didn’t want to waste the opportunities the facilities here had provided them. They’d decided some healing was needed even if the war was at a standstill.

  “That’s the last of them,” Oliver said, dusting his hands off.

  She grinned at him, brows raised.

  “You’re stronger than you look,” she quipped.

  “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

  “Eh, take it how you hear it.”

  He laughed softly under his breath as they moved towards the doorway.

  “I suppose I deserve that,” he admitted wryly, rubbing the back of his neck.

  As they walked, he glanced down at his feet. The silence between them stretched longer but not uncomfortably. Then he looked up again.

  “Listen, I know I haven’t really apologized for…everything.”

  “You mean for insinuating I only took this position to get a husband?” Maeve prompted.

  “Yes,” he said. “I was an arrogant bastard, Maeve. Truly, I’m sorry.”

  Maeve watched him as he walked, head bowed, eyes contrite. She considered her next words carefully. Forgiveness was one thing, but what she really wanted to know wasn’t if he was sorry.

  “Why?” she asked him.

  Oliver sucked in a deep breath.

  “Jealousy, really,” he said.

  She practically choked. “Jealousy?”

  He grinned. “What? You think no one’s jealous of you? Think again, healer Maeve.”

  “I’m a country orphan who barely got into the academy-”

  “And surpassed all of her year mates, graduated a year early, and was first pick on three senior healers’ rotations,” Oliver finished for her.

  Maeve pressed her lips together. “Well, if you put it like that…”

  Oliver laughed. It echoed down the hall, light and warm as they walked. Maeve looked a bit sheepish.

  “Sorry, sorry,” he said, his chuckles still bouncing from his lips. “It’s just too funny, that’s all. You really didn’t know? Jolen and Reynold argued over you for ages. I hear it took a drinking game to finalize the pick. Reynold had a hell of a hangover the next day, but he was still pretty smug about it.”

  “I had no idea,” Maeve admitted quietly.

  She stared at her hands. They’d argued over her? Why?

  “It’s why I was jealous,” Oliver continued. “I was a year ahead of you, but Reynold taught you things he never taught me. You were his favorite, you know. Even when you were being an idiot and breaking the rules. Treating the monster behind Reynold’s back? I thought for sure he’d throw you out, but he didn’t even consider it. Not until Sergeant Halek said he was worried for your safety.”

  “I…didn’t know any of that,” Maeve said softly.

  “That’s because you’re more dense than cotton padding,” he teased.

  She shoved him. He snickered as he teetered off balance.

  “Oh shut up. Half of that’s probably not even true,” she accused.

  But he held up his hands and said, “Not a lie off these lips, or may the Creator strike me dead. It really got to me, you know. You're also three years younger than me, too. Do you know how pissed I was?”

  “I worked hard, too,” Maeve protested.

  “I know that now,” Oliver admitted. “How could I not after working with you these last two weeks? I didn’t back then. I wanted Reynold to teach me himself, too. It felt like you were getting special treatment because…well, because…”

  He turned bright red. Maeve prodded his side.

  “Because?” she prompted.

  “Because you were pretty,” he mumbled.

  It was her turn to blush. The heat rushed to her cheeks. For a long moment, she didn’t know what to do, and so she whacked him.

  “Ow! Ow!” he protested. “I just gave you a compliment!”

  “You bastard! You picked on me because I was pretty?” she squealed.

  He caught her hand.

  “That’s not what I said.” He glanced away, pressing his lips together. “I know I was wrong, but…I didn’t want to admit that, and so…”

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  She stopped and watched his eyes, realizing he was serious.

  “So,” he continued. “I apologize. Really, truly apologize to you, Healer Maeve.”

  “I-thanks,” she stuttered.

  Oliver shook his head.

  “Sergeant Halek better know what he’s getting into,” he muttered.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing.”

  They parted at the healer’s wing. Oliver ducked inside to help the others with the prep work with a wave while Maeve watched the door close behind him while heading on up to her room. She needed to pack. Garrick’s offer had not come without surprise - go back with him to the estate, treat Luka like before, and hopefully see a monster become a boy. Who could refuse an offer like that?

  But leaving was not as easy as she had thought it would be. There were so many things to do, so many people to say goodbye to, so many friends she might not see for a while. It felt good that - having friends. A smile tugged at her lips at the thought. People who cared for her ideas, people who didn’t mind when she messed up. Even Oliver - stupid, crass Oliver - was kind of okay now. Her only regret was Reynold.

  Oliver was right. She’d gone behind his back, betrayed his trust, argued with him and made him look like a fool who didn’t know how to manage his own people when she tried to take matters into her own hand. Her optimism was a weakness, she knew. Even before the monster, Reynold had to temper her altruism and willingness to jump into fire. He was one of the greatest healers she knew, and yet she had gone behind his back because she believed she knew better. To learn that even then he hadn’t wanted her to leave until Bran said something to him about her safety, that he’d fought for her to be on his rotation was hard. She didn’t want to leave without apologizing, without thanking him for his mentorship.

  Her steps carried her towards Reynold’s office. The corridor was quiet but for the scuff of her slippers across the stone floor. The air hummed with summer warmth - and the quiet anticipation of groveling. She raised a hand and wrapped her knuckles on the wood.

  “Who is it?” Reynold’s voice called out.

  “It’s Healer Maeve, sir.”

  There was a long pause. She held her breath, wondering if he’d dismiss her. But then a quiet sigh followed.

  “Come in, Maeve,” he said.

  She frowned, worried. Maeve? Even when he was angry, he’d called her by her title, not just her name. She pushed open the door, the wood scraping on floor as she entered.

  What she found was not what she expected. The scent of boiling herbs and steeped coals lingered but only distantly as if they had disappeared only moments before she arrived. The shelves were already half empty, the books stacked into one of the large heavy chests in front of his desk. Another was already full, his clothes and personal items stacked neatly inside. The other he knelt in front of, not in his familiar healer’s robes but in regular clothes. Clothes fit for travel.

  “What’s this?” she asked, surprised to hear her voice breaking.

  She swallowed as she looked around. Reynold shook his head.

  “I’m packing.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m headed back to the front. Commander Voss is right - this war isn’t nearly finished. We don’t know when that ceasefire will give way.”

  “But…I mean, why you,” Maeve asked. “Why…is it because…of me?”

  Tears filled her eyes.

  “No, child,” Reynold said quickly, rising to place his hands on either of her shoulders. “Banish that thought right now.”

  “But, I was coming to apologize. Honest. Senior Healer, I’m really sorry,” she said, her voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to go behind your back or cause a fuss or question your authority. And I certainly didn’t mean to be stubborn. Please, sir. If that’s what it is…”

  “Hush,” Reynold said. He squeezed her shoulders kindly and smiled down. “This is not because of you. Or rather, perhaps it is in thanks to you.”

  Maeve’s brow crinkled in confusion. Reynold sighed and stepped back, kneeling in front of the chest again as he wrapped a delicate glass beaker in cloth before setting it inside.

  “I am ashamed, Maeve,” he said bluntly. “I can’t stay here.”

  “You don’t have anything-”

  He cut her off with a pointed look. “You and I both know I do. I am ashamed that my own student needed to teach me about the ethics of our cause. I am ashamed I acted so arrogantly after our last encounter. When Garrick berated me for doing nothing, I admit, I felt anger and hurt. I wanted you to fail and so I withdrew everything - my help, my support, my presence. Even Oliver acted better than me.”

  He said that last part with a laugh. Maeve could only watch as his eyes misted over.

  “You saw what I refused to see,” he continued. “You saw something worth saving. And in doing so, you saved a child.”

  “I didn’t know he was a child,” Maeve blurted.

  He looked at her wryly. “You have to break that habit of interrupting. If you’re going to go to the Voss’ estate, yes?”

  She nodded tightly. “Yes.”

  “If you don’t curb that tongue when the time is needed, high society will eat you alive. I don’t mean that as criticism against you, child, but as a warning that the life over there is not kind. Garrick was right to offer you the chance, but he had better support you, or so help me I will personally mix a tonic to make him go bald.”

  A panicked laugh burst from Maeve’s lips before the tears started to fall. She wiped them with the back of her sleeve. This wasn’t right. He shouldn’t have to leave.

  “You can come with me,” Maeve offered. “Or stay here. The tower needs your leadership.”

  “I think the tower needs someone who is more understanding, and Jolen needs a break. He’s been holding his own for a while there. A few other senior healers will be joining me. And I think it will be a good opportunity to reflect upon myself.”

  He glanced at her, eyes sad. His voice was almost a whisper now.

  “I would have missed it, Maeve,” he admitted. “I forgot to look. You were right to call me out. I became jaded and foolhardy, and losing Commander Hawthorne…” He trailed off, eyes distant. “Losing Rhodney was harder than I thought. I am so tired of losing. It seems all we do is lose. And I didn’t want to care for the beast that stole someone precious to me.”

  Maeve’s eyes watered. “You never said anything.

  He smiled wanly. “I’m good at keeping secrets. Bet you didn’t know I only managed to get you on my rotation-”

  “Because of a drinking bet?” she finished.

  He looked startled.

  “Who…oh, Oliver. That little brat. He’ll have to learn how to keep more secrets once he becomes head of this place. I’m promoting him to senior healer when I leave. He’ll work with Jolen for a little while.”

  “Oliver’s worked hard,” Maeve admitted.

  A strange look passed over his face.

  “See? You even forgive and praise the man whom I let bully you all these months,” he said sorrowfully. “Maeve, I think when I grow up, I’d much like to be like you.” He smiled down at his hands. “I need to go back to a place where I know I can be of help. I forgot how to look beyond the atrocity. I forgot my code - to help and never hinder, to bring life instead of death, and to never use our knowledge to harm.”

  “That is the way of a healer,” Maeve finished.

  He looked up at her. “Truth be told, it’s getting harder and harder to be here, watching while everything changes. It’s hard to watch the Second Order move on and change.”

  She stared at his back as he continued to pack, wrapping each delicate vial in cloth before putting it inside. For a moment, she didn’t know what to do. Argue? Plead? Apologize again?

  Then, a foot forward. A hesitant step. She knelt beside him, picked up a vial and began to wrap it. Reynold paused and watched her trembling hands carefully fold the cloth over the tempered glass before passing it to him, cheeks blotchy from emotion. She avoided his eyes, but she knew they lingered on her. He took the wrapped vial from her and laid it down gently.

  “You will make a fine healer, Maeve,” he said softly.

  She didn’t respond, but her shoulder brushed lightly against his. He laughed softly.