Scholar of Magic (Art of the Adept #3) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,152

but she cut him off.

“Please! Get out!” Her voice was rising through the registers, climbing toward panic.

The doctor gave him a sympathetic look, then gestured toward the door. Will went, but just before he stepped out the physician called out, “Your other friend is across the hall.”

“Thank you, sir.” Racked with guilt, regret, and a whole host of other mixed-up emotions, Will retreated. Outside, he took a moment to breathe and regain his composure.

Through the door he could hear voices, some of them loud enough to understand. “No more visitors,” Janice begged. “Don’t let him in again.”

One of the nurses responded, “He’s just trying to help, miss.”

After that, all he heard was crying and his chest tightened. Moving forward, he crossed the hall and opened the opposite door. Tiny was in the bed, partially elevated into a half-sitting posture by a collection of pillows. Unlike Janice, the big man was naked, at least the parts Will could see from the waist up. Pale skin covered thick muscles, and everywhere Tiny’s body was discolored. Most areas were shaded blue or purple, but some regions had deep black bruises, where blood had congealed under the skin.

And that was his front. From how things had played out, Will knew the back side was probably worse. Tiny spotted his friend and smiled brightly, showing a mouth full of undamaged teeth. In contrast to Janice, his injuries had almost entirely been to the body. Aside from a few scratches, his head had been untouched. “Will!” he called cheerfully. Then he frowned as his eyes tracked toward Will’s wounded leg. “That’s new. I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight.”

“You’re still in worse shape.”

“Says who?” argued Tiny. “I could get up and whip your ass, if they’d let me out of this bed. There’s really no point in keeping me here. It’s just bruises.”

Will smiled. “It won’t even be that soon.” He summoned the second regeneration potion and offered it to his friend. “You’ll be right as rain after you take this.”

Tiny turned his head away. “How’s Janice? Give it to her.”

He sighed. “I already gave her one. She’s healing as we speak. This one is yours.”

The big warrior gave him a sincere look. “I don’t really need it, Will. Save it for an emergency. I’ll be fine.”

Will closed his eyes. “No, Tiny, you won’t. I don’t know what they told you, but you aren’t all right. You might not recover if you don’t take this. Your kidneys are bruised as badly, or maybe worse, than the rest of you. Take it.”

“They said I would be fine,” repeated the squire.

“They didn’t want to scare you.”

Tiny took the potion from Will’s hand. “What is this?”

“A regeneration potion. It will heal anything and everything, but only if you take it right after you get hurt.”

His friend looked at his leg again. “What about you? Do you have more?”

Growling with frustration, Will produced another vial. “This one’s for me. Are you happy?”

“Let me see you drink it,” insisted Tiny. “You heal that leg, then I’ll accept this one.”

“You’re an idiot,” snapped Will. “Fine.” With a grimace, he downed his potion. “Now you.”

Tiny followed suit, choking and gagging as the taste assaulted him. He managed to swallow it down, though. The pain in Will’s leg increased a moment later, followed by a sensation of heat. He watched in fascination as the swelling decreased, and he quickly removed the bandage. The edges of the skin knitted together before his eyes.

Meanwhile Tiny’s skin changed color as his bruises began disappearing. The warrior winced a few times as he experienced a variety of disparate pains, but his expression quickly turned to one of relief as the various aches vanished.

Looking down again, Will saw that his leg had finished healing. He tested it by bending his knees and then straightening up again. Everything worked perfectly, though he still had quite a bit of crusted blood stuck to his skin. “Feel like a bath?” he asked.

“More magic?” asked Tiny warily.

Will nodded.