“I’d thought youweredead, actually,” she whispered, struck by the sudden, embarrassing need to cry.
“Nope, just a lousy convincer.”
“Bernie—you were brilliant. You and Willi both. You’re the reason Hartgrave and I are still alive.”
“Pshaw,” he said. But he looked pleased.
“And you’re okay? You were unconscious for so long—”
“Not that long, actually. I was just lying there in a daze.” He tapped his head. “So far, so good.”
That was a relief. “Do you know where my parents are?”
“Getting a bite to eat. I told them to take a break since I’m finally free to roam around.”
She chewed the inside of her lip, trying to think of a suave way to ask the question burning on her tongue. Her tone was more accusatory than she’d intended when she finally blurted, “Where’s Hartgrave?”
“Taking care of a few things.”
Well, that was reasonable. She could think of more than a few things he might have to take care of.
“How are you?” she asked, peering at Bernie. “Not just the head, I mean.”
He grimaced. “Not fabulous, but better than you.”
“I certainly hope so! Hartgrave told me to calm down, I remember that now, but I think I’d gone into shock. I just blacked out.”
“The best thing you could have done, as it happens. Lowered your heart rate, you see.”
“What—oh.”
That explained the mystery of her relocation. Fainting saved her life. It was so absurd, she had to laugh—gingerly.
“I suppose it is a bit funny in hindsight,” Bernie said. “Of course, I was too fuzzy-headed then to realize what was going on—Willi claims I was flat on my back, muttering something about ‘Chaucer’ not being spelled with two h’s.”
“S-stop,” she protested, shaking with repressed giggles. “Hurts.”
He made an apologetic face. “Sorry. My point is, I doubt you’ll get Hartgrave or Willi to appreciate the joke because they had to go through it fully conscious. Imagine what they thought when the anti-magic around you dissipated.”
She wasn’t laughing anymore. She shifted farther under the covers, feeling cold.
“It’s a good thing Williwasfully conscious,” he added. “Sounds like Hartgrave completely lost his head.”
This produced a pang. She wanted quite badly to see him, wanted to hear his voice and hold his hand.
“Did”—her voice quivered—“Willi bring me here?”
“Hartgrave did. After Willi noticed you were, in fact, still alive.”
She cleared her throat and thought of something that would put her on firmer emotional ground. “You know, I can’t help noticing he bypassed at least half a dozen exceptional Midwestern hospitals. He’s soprejudiced.”
“Pretty sure St. John’s was just top of mind,” Bernie said. “Remember that autodidact in town, the one he warned off? She’s a nursing assistant here.”
Emily winced, said “ah” and decided to make a clean break. “Um ... what day is it?”
“Friday.”
Friday. That rang a distant bell. What was supposed to happen Friday?
