Page 232 of Castings & Curses

“Mr. Glenn, patient update, please,” the older wizard said.

The badge on his lab coat said Professor Robert Boreas, and I recognized the name from the plaque outside the infirmary. This was the head of the healing program at Westwood Academy. Arlo must have been very advanced in his studies to be allowed to practice the healing arts on students, and to have the head of his department checking on him.

I barely listened as Arlo ran off a list of my injuries and his treatments. I’d noticed he did not mention his salve, but I figured I would ask about that later. Assuming I would be speaking to him later. He did tend to hunt down his patients when they missed follow-up appointments. They finished their chat, and I closed my eyes, pretending I’d dozed off.

“I’ll be back later to check on you,” Arlo whispered, tucking me in and closing the curtain around my bed to offer me some privacy.

It was a sweet gesture, and once again I was utterly baffled by the man’s treatment of me. Anyway, I must have actually fallen asleep because I woke up a while later to someone poking me on the shoulder, way too close to one of my cuts.

“Ouch!” I yelled.

“Good, you’re alive,” the snarky voice replied. “No way I wanna deal with those witches you room with if you died here.”

I blinked and turned my head, trying my best not to move my back. I recognized the dark-haired female.

“Mabe?”

“What of it, pigpen?”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, watching her warily as she pushed a wheelchair over to the bed. I realized she was attired in her favorite color, black, but she was wearing scrubs.

“Are you studying to be a healer?”

“As if,” she grumbled. “No. But unlike you, princess, I have to work to be here.”

“What?”

“I can’t afford the Academy’s tuition. I don’t have rich parents doting on me. But it’s either here to learn to control my magic or end up at the end of some hunter’s sword. Screw all that. Professor Armstrong offered me a shot at a work-study program. So, here I am.”

I gulped, swallowing down that huge information dump Mabe just piled on me.

I mean, how often had this witch actually told anyone anything about her?

Her dark eyes seemed rimmed in crimson, and she rolled them as she gestured for me to hurry up.

“Let’s go. I have to turn over this room and you’ve been discharged already.”

“What?”

“Move. Your. Ass. I have work to do.”

The sounds of the suddenly busy infirmary seemed to finally get through to me and I sat up slowly. My back didn’t hurt, and I gasped, turning around to look in the small mirror over the sink in the corner. I peeked through the hospital gown I still wore. No blood seeped through my bandages.

“Good, now come on. I’ll bring you back to your room.”

“Okay,” I said, standing up slowly, only to sit back down in the wheelchair.

Mabe was clearly in a rush, and I guess I was well enough to leave. I didn’t see Arlo and there was nothing for me to sign, so we just left.

And that was when I realized I’d made a huge mistake.

CHAPTER3

“This isn’tthe way to the dorms.”

Maybe I wasn’t paying attention because I was moping over Arlo not coming to see me off. Maybe I was still woozy from the whole my kitchen just blew up thing. I don’t know. But by the time I realized something was not adding up, Mabe had taken a sharp corner at the end of another hallway.

Yes, she’d gone in the general direction of my dorm room, but instead of taking the elevator up, she’d gone down—like way down. In fact, I didn’t even realize there were sub-basement levels accessible through the dorm elevators.

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