Persie Merlin and the Witch Hunters - Bella Forrest Page 0,77
my heart pounding.
She gave me a lingering squeeze. “I know what you meant.”
Twenty-Two
Persie
Two days passed in a disorienting blur, and though my best friend had cheated death, I had still had a sour taste of what life would be like without her. After the resurrection, Nathan had insisted on taking Genie to the Infirmary and putting her on sick leave for the rest of the week. The medics on duty had asked what was wrong, but we were spared the need to lie; as it turned out, Genie had a legitimate fever and cough from shivering out in the rain for so long—enough of an illness to warrant being fussed over by medical professionals, a situation Genie loathed to her core. Being the perpetual tough nut, she claimed that being sick was almost as bad as being dead. Her words, not mine, and I’d scolded her for even saying them.
Since Genie was recuperating from her foray into the afterlife, I spent my Thursday and Friday going to lessons alone. The entire class had been shocked by the news that Genie Vertis, wunderkind and all-around heroine, had been downed by a trifling bit of flu. Even Marcel had done a double take when I’d told him, wondering if she was just “pulling a sickie” so she didn’t have to try flooring him again. Of course, I’d given her the breakdown of what she’d missed after classes were over, keeping vigil at her bedside until the medics chased me away. Nathan had been there a lot, too, since he didn’t have to spend hours at the mercy of instructors.
The weekend arrived, but Genie still hadn’t been let off bed rest. As such, Nathan and I had decided to go to the magical farmer’s market to rustle up some goodies that might cheer Genie up… and stop her from whining at the medics to let her out. I’d been granted permission from Victoria to go outside the Institute boundaries for this one excursion, since I’d have Nathan with me, and it was still magical territory. The market was held on the last Saturday of each month, with vendors traveling from every continent aside from Antarctica to set up shop in the designated interdimensional bubble located in the field just beyond the Institute. The jumbled mix of stalls with striped awnings, carts of all shapes and sizes, and walking sellers wielding baskets of produce probably would’ve fit, just about, inside a football pitch, with crowded paths cutting distinct lines between the rows of vendors.
I drank it all in as we entered the bubble. Golden pastries, rich with butter, were racked up on trays, the elegant lattice work restraining pockets of tart apricots and berries, sugary apples, impeccably sliced peaches, and decadent chocolate for those who didn’t care about clogging their arteries. Fresh breads, straight out of the oven, bloomed in wicker baskets, begging to be slathered thick with Irish butter. Cakes iced in mesmerizing, galactic mirror glazes adorned one stall, while entire statues of chocolate-carved monsters towered over a tiny chocolatier, who was hard at work melting more brown deliciousness into molds. Further along, I saw bronzed ducks, headily spiced with flavors of the Far East, glistening on rotisserie spits. The scent made my mouth water. Bubbly, cackling African women tossed frying sunshine-yellow squash in an enormous pan, throwing in bright green peppers and a purple-tinged root vegetable that I didn’t recognize. My stomach growled as we passed their stall. “I don’t think this place will ever lose its novelty,” I said.
“You just have to look at Marcel to know that.” Nathan grinned, looking more chipper than he had since his revelations. “He’s here every month, without fail. There’s not a single stall owner who doesn’t know him.”
A young woman stopped us on our path, holding out a tray of gelato. “Would you like a sample?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” I took one of the tiny cups, swallowing the cold goodness before Nathan had even reached for his. Tangy lemon melted on my tongue, refreshing and cool in the cramped heat of the market. I glanced at Nathan. “Do you think Genie might like some?”
He smiled. “I think it would melt before we got it to her.”
“Good point.” I dropped the cup in a nearby trashcan and pressed on, marveling at cupcakes with a sparkling halo of sugar crystals floating around the icing. Intriguing, but they weren’t special enough to bring Genie out of her bedridden funk. She needed the best comfort