Page 38 of Petrified

“No.”

“You didn’t know it would start turning him to stone.”

“No.”

“But you knew this case had the kind of magic that could threaten us badly enough to test your theory.”

“Yes.”

I turn my head and look at Rowan.

He’s standing close enough that our shoulders nearly touch now, breathing normally, warm and solid and very much not stone. That should help.

It doesn’t.

I look back at Gerald. “He couldn’t breathe.”

Gerald’s expression stills.

“I had my hands on his chest and there was barely any movement under them. The stone had already crossed his ribs, and every breath got smaller while Medusa kept telling us the fragment should weaken eventually.” My voice gets rougher despite my best effort to keep it level. “The healer found damage in both lungs and his diaphragm afterward. He was healing torn tissue because the petrification had gotten that deep.”

Gerald starts to speak, but I cut him off.

“What did you think happened if I couldn’t reverse it?”

His eyes stay on mine. “You did reverse it.”

For a second, I’m sure I misunderstood him.

I tilt my head. “Try that again.”

“Your designation adapted. The bond gave you access to Rowan’s magical state, you responded to the petrification as a direct threat, and the resulting countermeasure disrupted the stone while protecting the tissue underneath.”

“I know what happened.” I step closer until Rowan’s hand closes around my upper arm. “I asked what happened if I failed.”

Gerald’s brow furrows as though I’m insisting on discussing the least useful part of the equation. “But you didn't fail.”

The anger inside me changes shape.

I stop trying to find the version of Gerald who is going to understand why that answer is horrifying. He isn’t hiding behind the result because he feels guilty. The result is genuinely the only part he considers important.

“You really believe that,” I say.

Gerald’s gaze narrows slightly. “The outcome demonstrated that the projection was correct.”

“Rowan surviving means you were right to risk him.”

“I didn't put the fragment in his hand.”

“No, you only put us in a case you selected because you wanted to know whether something dangerous enough would make me change.” I pull my arm from Rowan’s grip only so I can turn and catch his hand instead. “If he dies, I guess the theory was wrong. If he lives, congratulations, you were justified.”

Gerald exhales. “That is not how I would phrase it.”

“That’s because my version sounds fucking awful.”

Amand comes up on my other side. “It is also accurate.”

Gerald finally stands. “You are reducing years of Chameleon research to one event.”