Home > Scholar of Magic (Art of the Adept #3)(89)

Scholar of Magic (Art of the Adept #3)(89)
Author: Michael G. Manning

   There were several lamps in the room providing more than enough light, especially since he could adjust his vision, but the numbers and symbols on the page in front of him blurred in and out despite all of his squinting. Will put his pen aside for a moment and rubbed his face with his hands. Then he tried again.

   The math wasn’t that complex, but he had a nagging suspicion something was wrong when he got to the end, so he repeated the calculation, starting at the beginning.

   His answer the second time was different. Growling angrily, he tried again. Ten minutes later, he had a third and still different result. Will fought the urge to throw the journal across the room. He could hardly recall the last time he had felt so frustrated.

   Taking a deep breath, he started again. This time his result was the same as his second attempt, but he still didn’t trust it. He had to be sure; otherwise he could ruin a lot of expensive materials. His fifth attempt confirmed his first calculation.

   Will wanted to cry. He knew it was him. He hadn’t slept in almost two days, aside from his short, alcohol-induced coma, and during that time he had been in multiple fights. Add to that his wounded leg and he was obviously not in a fit state to do rational calculations.

   A knock at the door startled him from drowsing. He hadn’t even realized his head had drooped and his eyes were half-closed. Will straightened up, grabbed his crutches, and hobbled over to the door. He had locked it so no one could interrupt him, though there was only one person likely to appear.

   He opened it to find Professor Karlovic standing in the hall. “I thought I’d drop in and see what you were up to. You haven’t been in for a couple of days.” The professor gave him a curious look, studying him up and down as Will let him into the laboratory. “You look the worse for wear.”

   “Don’t get me started,” said Will sourly, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t even do figures right now.”

   “This kind of work isn’t safe when you aren’t at your best, William. I’m sure you know that,” cautioned the professor. “What happened to your leg?”

   I got drunk and woke up pregnant with a troll-let, Will wanted to say, but he stopped himself, fighting back a semi-hysterical chuckle. “I had an accident while collecting troll urine.”

   Karlovic’s eyes lit up with interest. “You managed to get more? How?”

   Will sighed. “You know I don’t share those secrets, Professor.”

   “So, you’re trying to make more regeneration potions. Why are you risking such valuable materials by working when you’re clearly exhausted—not to mention injured?”

   “Because it’s necessary. You know about the trouble in the city last night, right?”

   The professor nodded. “More than I’m supposed to talk about with the students. We’re considering a curfew on the campus starting tomorrow.”

   “I was in the middle of part of what happened last night,” said Will. “Janice Edelman and another friend of mine are in Doctor Morris’ care because they came to save me. If I don’t find a way to fix what happened to them, the consequences will be permanent.”

   Karlovic looked uncertain. “I heard about poor Janice. You were really involved? You know about what’s happening in the city?”

   “You’re not supposed to say ‘vampire’ in front of the students, I guess?” asked Will. “I saw a lot of them, too many for comfort.” Reaching down, he pulled back one of his sleeves, letting the teacher see the now scabbed-over puncture wounds that ran up and down his skin. “I wouldn’t have lived if Janice hadn’t done what she did.”

   “They’re real?” asked the professor. “They briefed us, but it was hard to believe. Supposedly the king has soldiers and the Driven patrolling the streets.”

   “They’re real,” Will confirmed, staring down at his page of mangled calculations.

   Professor Karlovic came over and nudged him aside. “Let me do this. You’re in no state. It’s better to have someone else do the checks anyway.”

   Will stared at his bearded professor, then moved over and sat down. He blinked several times as his vision became blurry. The stress of the past two days had been too much. Breathing slowly, letting his throat relax, he finally replied, “Thank you, Professor. You don’t know how much it means.”

   “Think nothing of it. You’ve done plenty of checks for me.”

   “Back when you were paying me,” said Will wryly.

   His teacher didn’t answer until he had finished the calculation he was doing. “I have a feeling you’re doing more for me and everyone else right now than anyone knows, so this is probably just a proper repayment. Even if it isn’t, it’s a teacher’s job to help students when they need it.” He moved on, then started a second time, rechecking the work he had done. Karlovic was done a few minutes later as both of his sets of calculations agreed with each other. They also matched Will’s original second run through. The professor underlined the final amounts, then rewrote them on a second sheet of paper so they wouldn’t get confused with the rest of the numbers that covered the original worksheet.

   He handed the sheet to Will. “Here’s your final working amounts. Where are you at in the process?”

   “Just doing the first boil,” said Will. “But I need to measure all this out so I’m ready for the next stage.”

   “Not going to sleep?”

   He shook his head.

   “You’re already about to fall over. You’re bound to ruin it if you don’t rest first,” the professor pointed out.

   Will shrugged.

   Karlovic pointed at the stool. “Stay there and don’t do anything. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

   He had no idea what the professor intended, but Will did as he was told. By the time the teacher returned, a quarter of an hour later, he was nodding off on his seat, repeatedly waking up when his head slipped and jerked him awake. Karlovic opened the door and dragged in a wooden folding cot. He had a pillow under one arm.

   “I told you I can’t sleep, sir,” argued Will. “I have to get this done.”

   His teacher ignored him, setting up the cot on one side of the room. “You lie there,” he ordered. “I’ll play assistant tonight.”

   “Huh?”

   “I’ll measure it all out and get the second stage going.”

   “But you can’t…”

   The professor walked/dragged Will over to the cot, then forced him to sit, which sent a surge of pain through Will’s leg. “I can,” said Karlovic. “I won’t try to do the activations. I don’t intend to shorten my life, but I’ll do everything else. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up for the part that sane wizards avoid like the plague.”

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