Page 54 of Resurgent

“He knew you were close to dying and demanded to help, but the dean told him there was no need for his bottle of Redline and that I had things under control…when he tried to argue that I’m still a recruit, she reminded him that I was trained by the kings best…which calmed him for the half second until he realized she wasn’t talking about him.”

I don't know what to say, but luckily she isn’t done.

“But despite the united front, she was already pissed that I’d made the decision to use so much myself.”

Swallowing hard, I ask what happened.

She shrugs. “I got kicked out of Arcane Healing.”

My mouth falls open, sadness and disbelief immediately trampled by immense amounts of guilt. “Sasha.”

“It's fine.”

“It is absolutely not fine.”

She rolls her eyes in the happy-go-lucky way only she can. “I'm still alive. YOU are still alive. I get to spend more time in Spell Casting.”

“That isn't the point. You look up to Alric.”

She makes a face. “Looked up to.”

Past tense.

“I'm sorry.”

She waves me off. “Don't be. He's a bitch.”

A laugh escapes me before I can stop it.

Sasha grins, “What? He is!”

“You're really not upset?”

“Oh, I'm furious. But not at you.” She straightens, a serious look taking over her face once more. “Every healer should have one priority—their patient.”

She points toward the infirmary.

“If I have a patient bleeding out in front of me, I don't care how they got to this academy, or if you’re threatening to expel me if I lay another finger on the patient without your supervision…I will save the person in front of me—especially if it’s my barely recognizable best friend.”

Something in my chest aches.

“He tried to get you expelled?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“What?”

“Apparently he thought if he threw enough of a tantrum to the King, he'd get his way.” She snorts, “Obviously that didn't happen…which just pissed him off even more.”

“Good. Fuck him.”

“Yup! And now I have more time to spend in the Spell Casting labs.”

I can't help smiling back. “What are you working on?”

Her entire face changes, the anger disappearing instantly as she starts talking faster, her excitement about the work she’s doing to modify an old spell to be slower acting so when the poison tincture is delivered, the operative has more time to get away before the side effects take effect.

She’s so excited and animated, it’s hard to reconcile her with the girl who, mere months ago, couldn’t imagine ever being capable of killing someone—and I wonder if she even separates this kind of spellcasting from the thought of burying a knife in someone’s chest.