“Tickle reflex appears to be working,” I said in my most official voice. “But we should probably check the other foot for comparison.”

“No,” she said, laughing.

“All right, fine. But don’t complain to me if you end up tickle-impaired!” I winked. “How did your first round of physical therapy go this morning?”

“It’s boring.” She made a face like she’d bitten something rotten. “I mean, walking up and down three steps was cool the first time, but they want me do it a million more times!”

“Physically, she’s perfect,” added Dr. Simpkin. “But her brain has to relearn so much about balance and movement. It’s going to take time and practice.”

“What about . . .” I searched for a tactful phrase to describe the mental impairment she’d suffered.

Lex saved me the trouble. “No more brain farts!”

“That’s what we called it when she struggled to remember words or had balance problems,” said Toby. “When she had a full-blown seizure, that was brain vomit.”

Seizures had been one of the many ongoing effects of Lex’s damaged brain. Medication had suppressed most of them, but for the past year, she’d been averaging one seizure every couple of months. I’d never witnessed her full-blown brain-vomit. I’m not sure what I would have done if I had.

“The MRI and CAT scans we took before lunch appear normal,” added Dr. Simpkin. “We’ve got specialists reviewing the results, and we’ll be running a lot more tests, but it looks very encouraging.”

I could have healed Lex years ago. We could have done this for thousands of other kids by now. I thought about the family who’d spoken to me after the hearing in D.C. and the long list of critically ill and injured people on our research trial waiting lists.

“Uncle Isaac?”

“Sorry.” I removed my glasses and set them on her meal tray. The rest of the room blurred, but the text of the magic in Lex’s body sharpened.

“Why don’t you just fix your eyes with magic?” asked Toby.

“For the same reason healing magic doesn’t change a vampire back into human. The damage isn’t a physical thing. It’s magically written into the essence of who and what you are.” I leaned closer, trying to read the fading magic in Lex’s body. The text was faint, and I didn’t see any active spells. “Did the libriomancer explain that this was a one-shot thing? That means the next time you scrape your knee, it’ll have to heal the old-fashioned way. So be careful.”

“I know.” Lex sounded so annoyed and put-upon by the reminder I couldn’t help but smile.