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At first, adrenaline pumps through him, keeping him on his feet and focused. But after they finally stop, everything hits like a runaway carriage. He sinks to the floor and squeezes his eyes shut. “Ow…”
“Well that was close!” Milo exclaims, also sitting down. Zack can see him wince, can see him holding himself in a way that clearly indicates how hurt he is. Melissa is the same, her movement all slow and done very gingerly. He feels rough tugs, his magic pulling him to heal their many injuries. Once upon a time, he would’ve ignored that tug. But now…
“I’ll get a fire on.” Melissa suggests. She clicks her fingers and a fire starts on the ground in between them. “I’ll collect firewood and do it properly later. Right now I think I’m just gonna…” She slumps backwards. “Ow! Ok, bad idea.”
Milo waves his hand in the air. “There’s a barrier. I’m too tired to do a proper one, but that’ll warn us if someone comes close.” He says. “They really did a number on us.”
They are both trying to underplay it, but Zack can see the look in their eyes. Even they are horrified by the experience they just had, and deeply frightened of repeating it. And with their many injuries throbbing, how can they stop thinking about it? It’s that thought, more than anything, that makes Zack speak up. “I can heal you.”
They both turn to look at him, clearly surprised. “That would be good!” Milo says, smiling. “If you’re ok with it. Don’t feel you have to, we’ve survived way worse.”
“I want to.” Zack says, and he does even though nerves choke him. The last time he healed someone… no, this is different. The only people around are Milo and Melissa, who are safe. He isn’t going to get captured again. He shuffles over to Milo and carefully touches his arm.
Then he remembers. “Oh wait, hang on.” He goes to unbuckle his cloak, and at the last second remembers his gloves were taken off of him and he never found them. He already has enough burn scars on his fingers from that mistake. He bundles some of the cloak fabric around his hand and fumbles with the clasp.
“Your cloak has an iron clasp?” Milo asks, confused.
“Yeah, to stop mage hunters from detecting me.” Zack explains briefly. “And to stop me from doing magic, it’s really hard to resist sometimes but I have to… oh, I’m doing it again.” He sighs.
“Hey.” Milo pats him on the shoulder. “We didn’t expect you to be alright after just one conversation.”
“But wearing iron all the time must’ve been awful.” Melissa says, shuddering. “It’s so restricting and it makes you feel so weak. I always feel so ill and tired when I’m in iron, how did you cope?”
Zack shrugs, fiddling absently with the cloak. Now it is off the cold air of the evening is hitting him, making him shiver. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”
Melissa and Milo share a look, as they often do. “Well, you don’t have to wear it anymore.” Milo says firmly. “Not ever again.”
“Yeah.” Zack says, hoping his nerves don’t show on his face. “Ok, let me heal you.”
He puts his hand on Milo’s bare arm, right above a fresh cut from a blade. Immediately, warmth begins to spread through both of them, spreading from Zack’s hand all the way through both of their bodies. Bruises begin to disappear, wounds begin to knit together into tidy scars. Zack barely notices, nearly consumed by the feeling. It makes him feel sick, it makes him feel wrong. It makes him feel giddy and safe and right. A bubble consumes the pair, and Zack doesn’t miss his cloak at all. Not when healing makes him feel so warm.
The tug disappears and he stops to look. There is still heavy scarring, of course. But the boy looks much better. The only wounds that didn’t heal are the fresh burns on his wrists and (presumably) ankles, which clearly surprises Milo.
“I can’t heal iron burns. They repel magic.” Zack says distantly. He feels panicked, his hands are shaking as the warmth recedes and that certainly isn’t due to the cold. The giddiness and happiness is gone, replaced by the same fear and dread he has felt his whole life. He used his magic again. What would his teachers say? He can imagine the disgust, the anger. The punishments.
“Thanks, Zack.” He hears Milo’s voice as if from underwater, barely breaking through a haze of panic. “I feel way better.”
Suddenly there is a hand on his own hand, and in a panic he wrenches it away. “Zack?” He hears again, now concerned. He looks to see Milo looking at him, soft concern in his eyes. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Zack takes a deep breath, reminding himself that he is safe. “I’m just not used to healing yet.”
“You looked like I did when I first used magic.” Melissa says thoughtfully. “Like, that really overwhelming feeling? Like it’s just you and the magic, and it basically consumes you. When I used fire magic I used to feel like I was burning, when I used water magic I felt like I was underwater, and so on. But it always felt so good.”
“I remember that.” Milo agrees. “But I stopped feeling it years ago. I thought it was an age thing, but maybe it’s an experience thing? Because you haven’t healed much.” He suggests to Zack.
“You mean, that’s not how you guys feel when you do magic?” Zack asks, surprised.
“No. I mean, I still feel like… like I’ve got fire in my veins if I use fire magic, but it doesn’t completely overwhelm me. I can ignore it, unless I over exert myself.” Melissa explains. “You’ll probably also feel it less once you’ve used your magic more.”
“It’s not just that.” Zack admits. “I feel really, really scared when I use my magic. Like someone is going to jump out and grab me.” Or report him and have him dragged away.
“I think that’s understandable.” Milo says. “After everything.”
“You don’t need to heal me if you don’t want to.” Melissa says, but even when she says it he can see her wincing, can see how hurt she is. The tug to her is so strong it nearly bowls him over.
“I want to.” He says. He shuffles over to her, wincing as he jostles his own many injuries. He carefully touches her arm, although it is hard to find somewhere that it will not hurt to touch.
“Can you heal yourself?” She asks, eyes drawn to his own injuries.
“I-“ And then the feeling hits and he is far too lost in it to answer her. Nausea rises in his throat, but the good kind, the kind that means happiness and warmth and too much of a good thing. The cold is blown away by the overwhelming heat, enough heat to make him sweat and complain normally but right now the temperature is perfect.
And then the last wound knits into a scar, and he sits backwards, and the freezing cold hits him. He remembers when he was pushed into the river as a child, and how the water it him, freezing his bones and dragging him under. This feeling is similar, a freezing fear.
“Zack?” He hears a voice, and that is different from the time with the river because his teachers had simply stood and watched, but now worried voices are pulling him out. He takes a gasp of air and turns to look at his friends.
“Sorry. Did you say something Melissa?” He says, and is pleased to find his voice isn’t shaking too much.
“Can you heal yourself?” She repeats. “You’re a wreck too.”
“I can.” He says. He did it a few times when he was much, much younger, before the price of doing so was made far higher than the price of not. He was trained to ignore the tug to heal himself, so focusing on it feels weird. But he does, and then warmth floods through him from it.
This time when the bubble fades, he finds that the constant pain has faded to dull ache from the scars, as well as more stinging pain from the unhealed burns. He takes a deep breath and sits back against the tree.
The crackling fire which Melissa is keeping up with her magic doesn’t stop the chill in his bones, not without his cloak. Milo and Melissa chat normally, very normally considering what just happened to them. “What’s the plan now?”
“We can’t head back to Hollowbreach, we should give it a few weeks to die down.” Milo says. “I think we head to Ambershore, it’s only a few days walk from here.”
“Sounds good to me.” Melissa says. “Hey, squirrel.”
Milo moves slightly to the left just in time to avoid a squirrel jumping out of the trees. “And there’s Murphy’s Law. The affects of the iron must finally be wearing off.”
“Good, I was starting to get bored.” Melissa says. They both start laughing.
Zack sighs again, unable to ignore his shivers. He reaches for his cloak- it may not be a pleasant feeling, but at least he will be warm. And something about the cloak has always made him feel safe, anyway. A security blanket.
“Are you putting that back on?” Milo asks, distracted from a conversation about travelling and food and meeting up.
“Yeah, it’s freezing.” Zack says. As soon as the cloak is back on, a familiar feeling settles over him. It’s almost like putting on a blanket of stone, with how weak and tired it makes him feel. But that feeling has always meant safety, protection, security.
“You can have my cloak.” Milo says, unfastening it and pulling it off. “You shouldn’t put that back on.”
“What about you?” He asks, looking over at his friend. He can already see goosebumps popping up all over his scarred arms.
“I’ll be fine.” Milo gets up and walks over, holding out the cloak. “You shouldn’t wear that, it’s not good for you. And I’m used to the cold.”
“I’ll set a fire under your bum.” Melissa suggests teasingly.
“That would be nice and warm! But I like my bum.” Milo says. “Come on Zack, please. I wouldn’t offer if I couldn’t manage.”
Milo’s eyes are all big and shiny, hopeful and optimistic and kind in that way of his. Zack sighs, finding Milo’s eyes are very good at worming their way right into his soul. “Fine. But if you get too cold tell me and I’ll give it back.”
“Ok!” Milo says, clearly with absolutely no intent to do that. Zack takes off the cloak and puts it carefully to one side. Milo wraps the cloak around him and despite himself he snuggles into it. It is warm and soft and covered in patches from repairs, but even warmer is the sentiment behind it. “We can get you a new cloak in Ambershore.”
“We’re wanted criminals with no money, how are you planning to do that?” Zack asks.
“Criminals, remember.” Melissa says, eyes glinting mischievously.
“Oh yeah.” It is always weird to remember that, that despite their kindness and heroism Milo and Melissa are actual criminals.
“Don’t worry, we don’t just rob willy nilly.” Milo says, and despite how cold Zack knows he must be he is grinning warmly. “We know who deserves it and who doesn’t.”
“I trust you.” Zack says, and he finds that he does.
“You know, ” Melissa begins, “we know your worst fears and that you’re brainwashed and we’ve literally been locked in a dungeon and… well, with you, but we barely know anything normal about you. What do you do for fun?”
“I like music.” He says. “I play the lute.”
“Hey, cool! I play the accordion!” Milo exclaims. “And Melissa plays the lyre.”
“Cool.” Zack smiles. He notices the way Milo is shivering and hugging himself and sighs, knowing full well that Milo would rather freeze to death than ask for his cloak back. “Maybe we should just use the cloak as a blanket and share.”
“Oh, good idea!” Milo exclaims, so he shuffles closer and Zack puts the cloak around both of them. Their arms rub together, and now Zack almost feels too warm, in a somewhat uncomfortable but pleasant way. “We should probably sleep, it’s been a long day. I’ll take first watch?”
“I have no idea how I’m going to sleep.” Melissa admits. Zack agrees with her. The ghosts of their experiences haunts all three of them, jolting them awake when they begin to tire. It makes them jump at noises and flinch at unexpected touch. So they sit and talk for a while, until the sun replaces the moon in the sky.
Zack is so, so tired, fear and pain and shock is draining. And despite everything, being around Milo and Melissa is the safest he has ever felt. He didn’t realise how unsafe he felt all the time until he started feeling safe.
His head droops to the side and he passes out against Milo, head on the other boy’s shoulder.