the bands on my wrists.
Delwood stood back, a self-satisfied smirk on his face, Caeco in front of him like she was keeping him away. People milled around me, an older lady checking me over. Gina looked worried, a scared looking Ariel next to her.
“Jaw’s obviously dislocated. What are these things on his wrists? Can we get them off?”
“No,” Ryanne said, sharply. “Don’t be taking them off just yet. He’s fecking pissed. Not that I blame him, but ye don’t want a dead student on yer hands, now do ye?”
“Take them off. I can handle any sparks he can throw,” Delwood said and I tore harder at the bands, trying to suck a breath that didn’t burn like fire.
“He doesn’t throw sparks. He burns things to the ground,” Caeco said, looking at me sadly. A thought occurred to me. Why was she over there and not over here with me? Why was it Jetta and Ryanne who were holding me and not my girlfriend?
An older woman, the doctor, was suddenly in my face. She pressed on my side and my vision blurred as fire tore through my ribs. Every breath burned and I felt panic take over as I tried to get air.
“He’s got broken or bruised ribs. Bring him this way,” the doctor said.
“He can’t breathe, doctor,” Ryanne said, worried.
A pair of hands took each side of my head, avoiding my jaw, and gray eyes met mine. “Focus on me, young man, and the sound of my voice. Breathe slow and shallow. The pain makes you think you can’t take a breath, but you can. Slow and shallow. That’s it. Almost a panting type breath,” Dr. Rosewell said, her voice calm and even. I got the hang of it, catching just enough oxygen with each small, short intake to just meet my needs.
“Okay. That’s better, right? Now I want you to concentrate on my voice. You’re not going to like this next part, but it needs to be done, and the sooner, the better.”
Her hands dropped lower on my face, then firmed up. “Hold him still.” A sudden sharp twist and shove and my jaw exploded and my vision blacked out.
I came back to myself gradually. My head and jaw throbbed and my ribs shot with pain, but it was slightly duller than I remembered. What had happened? Where was I? I tried to open my mouth and was quickly reminded of why that was a bad idea. The pain and the tightly wrapped bandage that went under my jaw and over my head stopped me from any further mouth movements.
Oh yeah. Delwood had picked a fight, Jenks had allowed it and crippled my magic, and then I got my ass kicked in front of my girlfriend and all my classmates.
He had beat me down in seconds flat and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I’d never been so helpless in all my life. Not as a captive in New Hampshire, not even as a child being held by a maniac. My magic had always been there, always a part of me, always giving me some kind of option. Levi had beaten me before, although never to the point of real injury, but still enough to knock any pride right out of me. Even fuming mad, the magic had been there to comfort me and let me know my physical abilities weren’t the end of the story.
The bands were still there, twisting my vision and blocking my senses. The room was unfamiliar but the medical stuff and the exam table-slash-bed I was on were pretty good clues as to where I was. So was the fact that my shirt was gone and my torso was bound with elastic bandages. I was alone and the door was shut.
I returned my attention to the Warded bands on my wrists, made of copper and bronze, carved with runes, glyphs, and sigils, some familiar, others not. It didn’t take rocket science to figure them out; I quickly understood their method and function.
By blocking my receiving side and my projecting side, I could neither pull in power nor push it out. But they were only on my wrists. Both feet still touched Earth and the two halves of my body were free of them. It dawned on me that part of their power was suggestion. By blocking the most common avenues of magic to a witch’s body, they effectively disrupted focus and intent.
Much of magic is psychology, convincing your brain that you can do