I scowl at him. Conniving, up-to-no-good gossips.
He shrugs. “Your mother is, for once, being sensible about rest and recovery. I didn’t have the heart to sabotage the therapy.”
“I mean it. Who would take care of Foxe Holler? There’s no plan B Farewitch in a town this small.”
And why not?Arna Jean can’t help me forever, and that girl is not made to be anyone’s understudy.
“At the moment, the Holler might not go for plan A, either.” Silas hands me a coffee, charcoal black, the way I take it. He’s redeemed. For now. “Once they heard the mayor’s daughter was at the hospital, Webb and his followers posted up outside. He still hasn’t mentioned you, Marigold, but they’re going on again about evicting the Warlock from town. Claiming if magic can make a Farewitch sick, it’ll make all the patients sicker, that kind of nonsense.”
When my mom sighs, the sound rattles in her chest. “They just want someone to blame so they can fundraise to repair the church.”
Silas shakes his head. “It’s more than that this time. Carolina and I have done our best to dissuade the crowd, but we can’t just rip the signs from their hands.”
“They havesigns?” I say.
“Magic Is Poison, Not Food.” He takes a sip of coffee. “Farewitches Are Still Witches.”
My temples throb. “Okay, that’s enough—”
“Neighbors Not Necromancy.”
“Oh, that’s a good one,” my mom says.
“Right? Clever.”
“I get it!” I exclaim.
Just then, another person bursts into the room at the same moment my addled brain realizes Silas broughtfourcoffees, not three.
Warlock Knight halts when he sees I’m awake.
The candy slides whole down my throat, choking me. I must still be caught in a crustacean-induced delirium.
The Warlock of Foxe Holler is here. In town.Outsideof Knight Manor, the one place he told me he never left. But he did. He left the safety of his wards. To comehere.
I’ll kill him.
His eyes dart over me, and that intense curiosity is almost more unsettling than his usual frown. I’m glad I’m not hooked up to any heart monitor because the beeping would betray my pulse for sure. What looks like relief flickers across his face, but I’m probably imagining it. He likely just wants to gauge if I’m well enough to finish our argument from earlier. I’m ready for him. I swear to all in heaven above, if he so much as lobs oneI told you soat me—
“Done terrorizing the hospital?” my mom asks him, breaking this silent spell.
“Had to take him on a walk earlier because he wouldn’t stop pacing,” Silas tells me, like the Warlock isn’t even there. “Worse than Ms. Buchanan’s frenetic poodle.”
My mom nods. “And as weak as it is, his magic is making all the machines in here staticky.” On cue, the lamp in the corner gives an annoyed flicker.
Warlock Knight finally remembers how to move. “Did you know they have this monstrous thing in the vending machine called aCow Tale?” he asks, approaching my bed. “Even worse, something called pig ears—”
“Pork rinds,” Silas corrects.
“Regardless, you have your choice of any part of the animal.” He holds up… snacks. A Warlock is hand-delivering me junk food. “I don’t even recognize vending machines any longer. Back in my day—”
Silas cuts him off. “Don’t finish that sentence.”
“Right.” The Warlock drops the snacks next to the coffee. “I’ve evaded Nurse Carolina. She’s still cross with me.”
My mom rolls her eyes. “Can you blame her? Every time you walk by an elevator, it switches directions.”
The Warlock grabs the last coffee and folds himself into the empty chair at my right. His cheekbones are sharper than usual, gaunt. He hasn’t slept. Probably hasn’t eaten. Ialmostfeel guilty. Almost.
