Page 50 of Bonds of Magic (Vesperwood Academy: Incubus #3)

Would you be any better as a patient? asked the voice in the back of my mind. I pushed it away without answering.

With Teresa out of the running, I needed to turn my attention to the other three ward-keepers, but I didn’t know where to start. I thought about checking up on Hans myself, but he had a petulant look on his face, and I wasn’t really in the mood to deal with that.

Sheridan stood up from his table and made his way over to the one where Hans sat. He clapped Hans on the shoulder, and Hans jolted forward. Sheridan pointed to his eyepatch and said something with a laugh.

Hans gave him a pained smile in return. Whatever Sheridan’s joke was, it evidently wasn’t very funny. Or maybe Hans was still in too much pain to find anything funny.

Eddie reached for the bottle of red in the center of their table, but Sheridan took it from him, pouring more wine into Hans’s glass, then making his way around the table like a server. He even draped a napkin over his forearm with a grin.

What had put him in such a good mood? Did he win some money down at Angler’s Rest? That seemed unlikely—and he’d have to pay off his debts there first.

“So that’s settled then,” Nat said, drawing my attention back to our table. “Poker night at my place next week.” She pointed a finger at me. “And no finking out.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“You think we can rope Autumn in?” Seb asked.

“Autumn?” Nat looked thoughtful. “I didn’t know she played.”

“I don’t know if she does,” Seb said. “But she’s been kind of withdrawn lately. I thought it might cheer her up.”

“Didn’t realize you two were friends,” I said, glancing over at Autumn. She reached over and filched a French fry from Hans’s plate. I thought I heard her say something about carbo-loading, but she was too quiet for me to hear clearly.

“Of course you didn’t,” Nat said. “That would require you having a social life, or even being remotely interested in the people around you.”

“I’m interested,” I protested. “I’m just…”

I trailed off, my eyes still on Autumn and Hans as she took another one of his fries. Was there something going on between them? I looked over at Seb to ask, then realized asking would underscore Nat’s point.

“Yeah,” Nat said with a snort. “Sure.”

The vegan lasagna must not have been very filling, because Autumn’s plate was empty and she was stealing yet another fry from Hans’s plate. He slapped at her hand.

“Get your own,” he said, loud enough for me to hear over the roar of the room.

Autumn sighed and began to stand up, empty tray in hand. But Orlando was standing too, and he waved for her to sit down, taking both of their trays to bus. His wine glass was still half full, and when he came back he topped off everyone’s glasses again.

The dinner hour was wearing on, and there were lots of faculty I hadn’t seen yet. I wondered if they’d eaten earlier, or if most of them took dinner in their rooms, to avoid mingling with the unwashed masses.

“Do most of the faculty not eat with the students?” I asked Nat and Seb.

“It’s about fifty-fifty,” Seb said, at the same time that Nat said, “Why?”

“Just curious,” I said. No one had commented on Teresa’s absence. But maybe it wasn’t comment-worthy.

“The only one who never eats his meals in here is Isaac,” Seb said thoughtfully. “Though I can’t say I blame him. The man deals with people all day, putting out fires. He deserves a little time to himself.”

Isaac . I needed to talk to him, tell him what I’d learned about Teresa. I’d have to go see him after dinner.

I frowned, wondering if I was being foolish to believe her. What if she’d already enchanted the girls before I’d barged in? Should I go see Isaac now, and get a second opinion before assuming everything was fine?

“I think it would offend his dignity,” Nat said. “I doubt he wants everyone seeing him chowing down on a cheeseburger and fries.”

“Can you even imagine Isaac eating a cheeseburger?” Seb put in.

Nat laughed, and a scream went up from the table next to us.

“Hans?” Autumn said, her voice loud enough to cut through the noise in the hall. “Hans, are you okay?”

He clearly wasn’t. One hand clutched his throat, and his mouth gaped open like a fish. His eyes were wide and terrified, and his body lurched against the table. His mouth moved, but no sound came out.

“Are you choking?” Autumn asked.

Not waiting for an answer, she stood and pulled Hans to his feet. Moving behind him, she wrapped her arms around his body, clasped her hands together, and pressed up and in sharply. She did it three times, but nothing happened, except Hans’s face getting redder.

She tried again, and she pressed so hard, his whole body jerked, but nothing came out.

“You’re going—” she said, pressing in again “—to be—” another press “—okay.”

But still, nothing came out of his mouth, and after the last press, he slipped through Autumn’s arms down to the floor. He wasn’t breathing, and his hands and feet began to drum on the floor as his body convulsed, wracked by movements he couldn’t control.

“What’s happening?” Autumn asked, looking around in dismay.

The rest of us were still getting to our feet. It had all happened so fast. Orlando was the next person to react.

“He’s choking, alright,” he said, kneeling down next to Hans on the floor. “But the cause might not be physical.”

Orlando muttered something and waved his hands across Hans’s body. A blue light sprang up, then turned a sickly yellow. Orlando’s eyes narrowed, and he reached into the pocket of his blazer.

He pulled out a small glass vial, tugged the stopper loose, then looked over at Autumn.

“Salt. I need the salt.”

She passed him a shaker from the center of the table. Orlando filled his palm, then cupped it so the salt funneled into the vial. The liquid inside went from clear to green as soon as the salt touched it. He put the stopper back in, shook it vigorously, then uncorked it a final time.

“Hold his mouth open,” he said to Autumn, who’d knelt down to join him on the floor.

She tilted his head back and opened his mouth as best she could, with his body still shaking. Orlando poured the contents of the vial into Hans’s mouth, though a good bit of it splashed onto his jaw and shirt collar too.

“Hold him now,” Orlando said to Autumn, and he went back to muttering spells and waving his hands across Hans’s body.

A moment later, Hans went still. His limbs ceased their frantic tapping on the floor. His head lolled back onto Autumn’s lap. His tongue hung out. He looked awful.

Then he made a huge sucking noise as he took his first breath in two minutes.

He lifted his head, looking at all of us looking at him.

The purple color was draining from his face.

He was still flushed, and still wearing his eyepatch, but he was beginning to look ‘ normal ’ again.

Or, at least, not suffocating. That was a definite improvement.

“What. Happened.” His words came out in shaky gasps. “How did—what—how?”

“You were choking,” Orlando told him crisply. “I was able to save you, but it was a close call.”

Hans inhaled deeply, but it sounded hoarse. His face crumpled in pain. “I’ll. Say.”

He really hadn’t had a good twenty-four hours.

“Do you know someone who wants you dead?” Orlando asked, looking at him seriously.

Hans’s eyes went wide—wider than they already were. “What? Why?”

“Because you didn’t choke on a piece of food,” Orlando told him. “You were poisoned.”

***

The refectory was in chaos when Isaac arrived.

The students closest to the faculty tables had seen Hans’s escape from death, and in less than a minute, the refectory was buzzing with talk of a poisoner on the loose and danger stalking Vesperwood’s halls.

They quieted slightly—but only slightly—when Isaac entered the room and joined the faculty at the far end.

He must have come in a hurry, because he arrived quicker than I would have expected. He didn’t look like he’d been disturbed at all. He still wore his impeccable three-piece suit, not a hair out of place.

Hans tried to rise when he saw Isaac, but Orlando pressed him down again. “Wait another minute,” he told Hans. “Catch your breath.”

“My breath is caught,” Hans said huffily—but his words turned into a hacking cough as soon as Orlando’s hand left his chest. Still, he pushed away from Autumn and Orlando and used a chair to pull himself to his feet and look Isaac in the eye.

Isaac approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder. He murmured something so softly, I didn’t think anyone but Hans could hear it. Hans shook his head over and over as Isaac talked. I couldn’t tell if he was disagreeing with Isaac or answering his questions. I wished I could read lips.

Another minute passed, and finally, Isaac looked up at the rest of the room. Gesturing elegantly towards his throat and murmuring something inaudible, his voice suddenly filled the room.

“Alright, everyone. I understand there’s been a lot of excitement this evening.

We’ve all had a shock. But worry and gossip accomplish nothing.

Students, I expect you to bus your trays and leave the refectory as you normally would.

Proceed to your Fifth Hour classes or rooms. Faculty, I’ll ask you to remain here a while longer. I thank you for your patience.”

It took a while for all the students to leave.

Half of them wanted to get a look at Hans before they filed out of the room, and the other half didn’t want to leave at all.

It took even longer for Isaac to speak with all of the faculty members present, pulling them apart individually to question them before sending them on their way.

Hans stood alone the whole time, his arms wrapped around himself. He shivered slightly, but I didn’t think it was from the cold.