Dan darted toward a robe that was on the bed and managed to grab it. “Wait. I’m—”
The hob grabbed his ear, and they were suddenly in the infirmary.
“… not dressed,” Dan finished.
The hob was gone, and the doctor gave him no more attention thanshe gave anything other than her patients. He wasn’t entirely sure she even noticed that he had on neither trousers nor boots. He shrugged on a robe and held it closed with one hand.
Currently, Dr. Jemison was washing a disturbing amount of blood from Lord Scylla’s stomach. “You can’t go teleporting and carrying dead weight and bleeding everywhere, Scylla!”
“Dragged him back like a sack of soggy cement,” Scylla crowed. “Look at him.”
Dr. Jemison glared at her grinning patient. She did, in fact, look over at the man who was lashed to the bed where the headmaster had been when last Dan visited.
“Sondre is all better?” Dan asked. “So you can heal people again and—”
“Excuse me?” The doctor’s gaze shifted to him, and he clutched his robe tighter. “I healedyou.”
“And a hell of a lot of other witches,” one of Dr. Jemison’s assistants said.
Dan folded his arms awkwardly. “Seems weird that the only one you aren’t healing is the one I gave you a boost to heal.” He shrugged. “Just thinking about it, Dr. J.”
Lord Scylla frowned. “I did feel betterfasterwhen he wasn’t here.”
The doctor scowled at her, at him, at all of it. She didn’t say anything, though. Instead, she looked from him to Lord Scylla to him again. Finally, she huffed. “Damn it. Get out. Just in case it is you, get out.”
Dan looked at her, mouth opening in surprise. “Seriously? You summon me here without my trousers or shoes, and then I’m just… to walk around out there?” He waved a hand toward the door into the castle. “Are you always this rude?”
The doctor shot a glare at him, as did an unknown witch who was sitting against a wall.
“Hey. I’m Ian.” The guy lifted a hand in a wave. “Prisoner here, I guess.”
“Remedial witch,” Dr. Jemison muttered. “Sondre dropped him off for an exam, but thenthisone…”
“Retrieved an enemy,” Lord Scylla finished. In a falsetto voice, she added, “Good job, m’lord. Excellent work, m’lord.”
“Follow orders, m’lord. How about you try that?” Dr. Jemison snarled.
“Boring.” Lord Scylla gave a wide grin.
“You are bleeding again, you stubborn witch.” The doctor leveled a look at Lord Scylla that would make most rational souls quake in fear.
The illusionist witch was clearly unbothered. “If he’s draining you…” Lord Scylla started.
“And draining you.” Dr. Jemison looked him up and down. “A natural siphon? He did boost my energy. Fine.” She pointed at him. “Stay a minute, but don’t touch anything or anyone.”
Dan bit back a remark. The only way he ever touched them was when they dragged him here.Bare-legged under my robe.It was chillier than he’d like, and he had the overwhelming fear that he was going to step in something gross. This was, after all, where sickness happened. He pointedly stayed clear of the bloody cloth that was dangling half out of the basin beside Lord Scylla’s bed.
“Newton’s Third Law states that for every action in nature there is an equal and opposite reaction,” Dan suggested. It made perfect sense in a horrible way. “That’s physics, but magic seems to followsomeof the same laws. If I cangiveenergy, I have togetit from somewhere. It took a lot to… do a thing I had to do at the order of a witch who outranks me, and I’m not saying I did in case I’m not supposed to say that much.”
Dan grimaced at what he almost said.
Prospero wasnotone of the good guys. He was mostly sure of that.Chaotic neutral? Lawful evil?He couldn’t quite decide what she was other than dangerous. So he wasn’t about to admit to these witches that he had aided her as she erased Ellie’s and Maggie’s memories, but he knew that erasing Ellie’s had given him a headache that had lasted for a full week.Boosting Prospero so she could adjust Maggie required only a trickle of energy, but the magic necessary for Prospero to erase Ellie’s memories was enough to make Dan glance into a mirror afterward. He felt like a husk, like everything in him had been drawn out, and he couldn’t get enough food or drink or sleep for days.
“So, siphoning…” The doctor had a worrisome look on her face. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes practically glistened in excitement. “If that’s the case, it would explain some things. His magic was depleted because he’d just helped Prospero blank the memory of her poor wife.”
“Poor wife?” Lord Scylla scoffed. “They’re meant for each other. She’s so head over heels—”
“Which one?” the doctor muttered.
