Chapter Two hundred six – Cottontail Conspirators

School was back in session. Pandy was supposed to have been introduced as a new teacher.

She should have been able to walk around the school, as a human, meeting all of the people who had treated her with such well-deserved disdain when she was Ms. Wellington.

Instead, she laid beside Thaniel, curled into the crook of his arm. There were no beeping machines or tubes in the quiet room, just a cloth bracelet that went around Thaniel’s wrist, and would presumably call for help if he needed it. Everyone who came in checked that bracelet first, turning it so they could check the full circumference, though to Pandy it just looked like a smooth piece of ribbon.

People came in and did things, mostly without ever even touching Thaniel, then left again, apparently satisfied. There was an elemental that looked like a beautiful, flying golden koi that came in with a white-robed woman, and it always watched Pandy with a sort of goggle-eyed horror, but otherwise no one even seemed to notice her any more. Certainly no one offered to feed her, but that was fair. Thaniel didn’t get actual food, either, and since he was only here because Pandy had abandoned him when he needed her, she didn’t deserve to eat, either. Even though the meals that were sometimes carried past their door smelled really, really good.

Lian had stayed all weekend, and only left on Monday morning when he realized he couldn’t stay for the days or weeks it would take until they figured out how to wake Thaniel. During the time he was there, he kept trying to talk to Pandy, but they were never alone for long, and she couldn’t take the chance that someone would catch her being human.

As it was, she hadn’t been able to use Shifting Faces at all on Sunday, which added another day to her countdown to level ten and a new face. Then this morning she’d reached level eight, but there was no way she could run off and change clothes or try to fix her hair, so she’d just had to settle for taking off and putting back on the same outfit she’d been wearing for a week. Which, yes, was clean and intact because Magic, but she still would have preferred to change her socks and underclothes on the general principle of the thing.

Beside her, Thaniel shifted and sighed, rolling over so he caught one of Pandy’s ears beneath his arm. She tugged it free, then stretched each leg to its fullest extent, eying the fluffy white fur between her toes as she splayed them. Before she died, Pandy had never really understood the concept of boredom. After all, there was always something to do. Sleep, work, play video games, work, read, work…

But here, as an undead rabbit that couldn’t even sleep, Pandy was bored. In fact, she was almost bored enough to start licking her own fluff, which was truly a high bar. It wouldn’t be the first time, since she’d occasionally used the, ah, ‘original’ method of cleaning herself, mainly back when she was trying to convince, well, anyone really, that she was actually a rabbit. It wasn’t like she was even dirty, since Healer Sinnett had yielded to Front Desk Ratchett enough to allow the woman to bathe Pandy – while muttering about fur and hygiene and unclean beasts the entire time.

The worst thing was the guilt, though. Every time she found her mind wandering, wishing she, too, could go back to school, or develop upright posture and wander off looking for a corndog, the guilt crashed down on her. And here it came again, which meant it was time for a chat with the only other person who couldn’t leave. <Kappa? Anything?> 

The usual pointed pause answered her. At first, Keros had been surprisingly supportive, spending a good amount of time talking to Pandy. First they brainstormed ways to help Thaniel, but came up empty. Then they discussed the events of the last few days. Then it was Gacha Love, and that conversation had gone well until Keros once again claimed that Dorian was clearly the best love interest, and Pandy tried to explain why he was horribly, tragically wrong, and he hadn’t spoken to her for most of Monday. They were back to speaking again, but the conversation centered on one thing.

I haven’t found anything new.

The code is…

It doesn’t code.

Or it does, but it wanders off into recursive loops, until it suddenly calls VitalLink, and it’s just gone.

Pandy covered her nose with her paws. She’d hoped one of Clara’s spells from Gacha Love could help Thaniel. Yes, acquiring them would probably make her explode, and she only had two hundred and ninety-one Corruption Points left, but she would try anything. She’d even hopped over to the far side of the room and prayed to Ismara, which achieved exactly nothing except to cause Thaniel to cry in his sleep.

Since Keros had played the game too, she had him go through her list of spells, looking for anything she might have missed. He said he could make something he called a ‘sandbox’ – which sounded like far more fun than she thought anyone should be having right now – just to see if she could get any of the spells. That had led to the ‘recursive loops’, and Keros getting tired of her asking.

You’ll have to do it for real if you want to test these.

But I don’t think they’ll work.

You’re not exactly trying to banish Dark magic, you’re trying to alter it.

That’s not what any of these spells are for.

The worst of it was that he was right. Even if she could cast Dispel without becoming a sticky puddle on the floor or being sent back to Hell, Clara and Lian could both cast it as well, so presumably it was pretty basic. Sure, they were the protagonist and the villain of Gacha Love, but they were also kids right now, and surely an older, more experienced Light elementalist could do anything they could. That meant Healer Sinnett would know if Light could fix Thaniel.

That left school-related skills and spells like Politics, Eloquence, or Gleam, which was literally a Light-based cleaning spell. If Pandy didn’t think it would glitch and turn into a dirty-ing spell, Pandy would have gotten that one already. But somehow Pandy didn’t think she was going to talk Thaniel into waking up, or convince him to wake By Order of the Queen – or whatever Politics would do in this case – so she was stuck. Stuck, and bored, and at the same time constantly terrified that this awful status quo would change, but for the worst.

 Her ears perked up, and she raised her head as she heard a commotion in the hallway. Thaniel’s room was small but private, with a bed, chair, and small table that looked like they belonged in a hotel, not a hospital. Sometimes people hurried by outside, but the only time anyone came in was to check on Thaniel and his bracelet, give Pandy some side-eye, and leave again. 

Now, someone knocked softly at the door, as they always did, then opened it without waiting for a reply they knew wouldn’t come. Pandy quickly laid her head back down, having learned from experience that the best thing for her to do was pretend to be asleep and draw as little attention to herself as possible. A few of the people who came in had even said, “Awww,” in that tone people got when they saw puppies and baby otters, but with an overtone of sadness that made Pandy’s chest tighten.

One of the women who came by most often entered, her blonde hair pulled tightly into a bun, without a single strand out of place. She was one of the ones who kept a neutral expression on her face, even though Thaniel was asleep, and Pandy was a rabbit. There was a certain tension around her mouth and eyes this time, however, and she circled around to the far side of the bed to check Thaniel’s wristband before looking up at the two men who had trailed her in.

“Everything’s fine,” she told Healer Sinnett, completely ignoring the second man. “We’ll need to refresh the Exflux spell soon, but Sustain is holding. He’s so small, he doesn’t need much.” Her voice choked momentarily before she cleared her throat and added, “I’ll let the elementalists know. You can ring if you need me.” She pointed to a small silver circle inlaid into the bedpost. Pandy had assumed it was decorative, but no, apparently it was a magical call button. Good to know.

Sinnett nodded, and the man with him ignored the… nurse? as thoroughly as she ignored him. The woman exited the room with brisk steps, and the healer turned to his companion. “This is the boy I told you about, Carl. We’re on day four.”

The man, Carl, came over to Thaniel’s side. He was of middling height, with dark hair and serious brown eyes. He was probably in his forties, but the deep lines bracketing his mouth and silver streaks at his temples could put him in his fifties instead. “No idea who cast it?” He asked, voice tired.

Sinnett shook his head. “We’ve interrogated all of the people captured with him. Mostly hired thugs who didn’t even realize just how deep they were in before it was too late to get out. Only a few elementalists – one Water, for the boat, one Earth for defense, and one Fire for offense. Best they had among them was a second tier Graveling. Two-” His eyes flicked to Thaniel, who was, of course, still sleeping, “Two took the final option, and the Bound was freed.”

The Bound was freed? What did that mean? Pandy stared at the healer, hoping her intermittent psychic powers would carry the question to him, but he continued on, blithely unaware of her curiosity.

Carl shook his head and muttered a curse. “You know that’s probably it, then. They wake in a day or so, you find the mage to release them, or they-” he waved a hand at Thaniel’s sleeping form. “How long will you let him linger?”

Pandy looked back and forth between the two of them. Let him linger? Thaniel was sleeping, not in a coma, or brain dead, or whatever this world would consider a lost cause. Light magic could probably heal people with brain injuries, anyway. Pandy had certainly had to fix her own brain enough times to indicate that it was possible.

“Try, Carl, please,” Sinnett said, and the other man sighed, rubbing a hand across his eyes.

“I won’t leave a connection, Quinten. I have too many already. But I’ll try.” He leaned in, staring down at Thaniel’s face, and as he did, he finally saw Pandy. She was half-hidden beneath Thaniel’s blankets, on the far side of the boy from the two men, and the look on Carl’s face suggested that a Rapid Rabbit Revelation was at least as bad as a Demon Debut. The joke was on him, though, because Pandy was actually a two-fer.

Jumping back, he thrust out his hands, dark fog forming around him. It didn’t look like Pandy’s Shield of Darkness, but if she suddenly took up smoking inside her shield, it wouldn’t have been that far off. The slightly wobbly sphere of smoke moved rapidly toward the door, but Sinnett moved to block the mage’s path.

“I told you the boy had an elemental, Carl,” Sinnett growled in his veteran-of-fifty-years voice.

Slowly, the fog faded, revealing a Carl who looked even more exhausted than he had before. His cheeks and shoulders sagged, his eyes haunted rather than hesitant. “I expected a Duskin, Quinten. Maybe a Tenebron. Do you know what that is?”

The healer held up a hand. “I have my suspicions, but if those suspicions were confirmed, I’d have to do something about it. Let’s leave it vague, at least for now. The thing saved the boy’s life, at least twice, and probably more.”

A lot more. How many times was it now? Pandy didn’t even bother thinking about it anymore. After all, who knew if Thaniel’s head really would have been cracked open if it hit that table when he tripped on the rug? Would he have been impaled if he slipped down the stairs onto the umbrella so conveniently left at just the right angle to hit a particularly small boy in the chest? Would he actually choke on grapes if Pandy didn’t helpfully bite each one in half for him?

But wait, that wasn’t even the point. Since when was she a ‘thing’? Carl was already speaking, not that Pandy would have flung herself at Sinnett and torn out his throat because he was a little rude. She’d been called worse. Not lately, but still.

“I never pegged you for a fool, Sinnett, but… Fine.” Carl edged closer, the last of the mist dispersing him as a bit of color returned to his thin cheeks. “Can you get it off?” He was eyeing Pandy the way someone might watch a venomous snake the size of a crocodile with the disposition of a hippopotamus.

Sinnett chuckled. “No chance. The boy starts crying the moment you move her. We’d have the whole hospital down on us.”

Carl stared at the healer. “Her? What, did you check?”

Pandy’s ears got hot as Sinnett’s whiskers quivered indignantly. “Sir… Someone else calls it her. I suppose I picked up the habit from him.”

Now it was Pandy’s whiskers that were quivering. Sir? What were the chances that the healer wasn’t talking about Augustus and hadn’t almost let his Sneaky Spy-name slip?

Carl’s brows went up, and when he looked back at Pandy, his gaze was a little more assessing, and slightly less horrified. “Fine,” he said, in the tone of someone who’d just found out he answered a trivia question incorrectly, and the game-show host was about to tell him exactly how much money he would have won if he hadn’t screwed up. “Let’s do this.”