I took a deep breath and tried my diplomacy again, hoping for an outcome that was low on the violence and high on the survivability.
“I did watch him,” I said firmly, but treading carefully. Her thoughts were slightly skewed when it came to Monty. “I watched him sacrifice himself for someone he cares for twice.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, raising a hand. “It’s just that I know he won’t stay. I’ve placed elite magical security and some of the strongest counter-measures I know in place. It’s meaningless. He humors me, but I know he can circumvent them, especially now, after the schism. His power has grown considerably.”
“How much stronger is he?” I asked, remembering how he’d faced off against Evers even in the midst of his schism. “Dex-level strong?”
“Dex is in a class unto himself,” Roxanne answered. “I don’t know many mages as strong as that crazy old man. Tristan is close to being an Archmage. A few more shifts—”
“Are these shifts more schisms?” I asked warily. “More importantly, are they lethal?”
“Not usually.”
“Let me clarify…are they lethal to those around Monty? Specifically me.”
“A shift is not a schism,” Roxanne said. “If he progresses normally, it should happen without much upheaval…or death.”
“This is Monty we’re talking about. Normal and boring he is not,” I answered. “If he’s this strong, why all the security around him? Is he in danger?”
“No, I told him not to cast. He’s just appeasing me, but once he sees you—”
“You think he’ll cut and run?”
She gave me a look that said, Are you serious right now?
“What do you think?” she asked. “Does he seem like the type to remain locked up in Haven indefinitely?”
“I think you underestimate how much he values and cares about your opinion.”
“Values and cares? Yes,” Roxanne said. “Follow? Unlikely. In that regard, he’s as bad as his uncle. A Montague through and through.”
“I don’t know,” I said, rubbing my chin. “Dex seems to listen to the Morrigan. Maybe you can get her to pay Monty a visit? Convince him to stay put?”
“Are we referring to the same Tristan? Not even she could convince him to stay here against his will. She barely manages to keep Dexter clothed.”
“I think she likes Dex semi-naked,” I said with a wince. “There’s an image I won’t get rid of anytime soon.”
“Tristan has his own motivations. He may hear what I have to say, but it’s unlikely he will listen.”
“It’s Monty. You know him. He’s stubborn and thick-headed. You tell him not to cast and he’ll listen most of the time, unless he sees those he cares about in danger.”
I remained silent for a few moments to let my words sink in.
“He should have never cast on the skywalk,” she said. “Evers knew he would.”
“She probably did,” I said. “The fact that it was booby-trapped wouldn’t have made any difference to him. Nothing would’ve stopped him. You were in danger, and that’s all that mattered to him in that moment: your safety.”
“I know,” she said. “He can be so….”
She threw her hands up in the air, exasperated.
“Impossibly difficult,” I said with a nod. “I know. But he cares for you deeply. You know that.”
“I know,” she said. “He views you as his family. Did you know you were the only one he wanted admitted the first day? He’s impossible.”
“He’s Monty. Comes with the territory. How is he? Really?”
“I’m…concerned,” Roxanne said as the elevator doors whispered open. “The schism has left…traces.”
“Traces?” I asked, worried. “What does that mean, traces?”
Magic users were notorious for their skill in understating situations. What I saw as major devastation to property, Monty saw as urban renovation. The fact that Roxanne admitted she was concerned was the equivalent of the sorceress running around the room with her hair on fire.
My heart may have skipped a beat or three.
“Come see me after you visit,” she said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I was just there and I’m sure he would like some space from my mothering. We can discuss it then.”
“Okay,” I said with a sudden knot in my stomach. “I’ll do that. What room is he in?”
“731, far end of the hall, to the left,” she said, pointing behind me as we reached the top floor and exited the elevator. “It’s the only patient room on this level. I had it converted from a conference room, so as to monitor his condition and recovery. My office is on the other side of the floor.”
“That’s convenient. How many offices are on this floor?”
“Besides mine, none.”
“So, it’s just your office and his room?”
“Considering my responsibilities here, it was the only way I could ensure he received the care he needed after a schism,” she explained. “Very few physicians are competently trained in dealing with the after-effects of one.”
“And you are?”
“One of the few on the entire eastern seaboard,” Roxanne said with a nod. “It’s a specific body of knowledge. His recovery will take some time, and he will exhibit uncharacteristic quirks during the process.”
“Quirks which require close supervision, it seems.”
“Quirks which require isolation, for his safety,” she answered. “As I mentioned earlier, he is not ready to leave, even if he thinks otherwise.”
“I see,” I said, looking down the corridor to where Monty was impriso—I mean, where Monty was getting expert medical care. “I’m sure he’s enjoying the extra level of care you’re providing.”
She gave me a withering glare.
“This is Tristan,” she said dryly. “He absolutely hates it. In any case, you should have no trouble getting past the security on this level. I briefed them myself.”
“How soon should I expect the orbs of destruction after meeting them?”
“These are professionals, not easily prone to surprise,” Roxanne answered, glancing at Peaches. “Just remember what I said about your presence and tread carefully. The security detail on this floor is on high alert.”
“Because of Monty’s quirks?” I asked. “I mean, how bad are these quirks? Has he started drinking coffee?”
“Initially, they manifested as random obliteration circles all around his room.”
“Oh,” I said, having second thoughts about my
