Going through the Potions by Samantha Silver

Author:Samantha Silver [Silver, Samantha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-07T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

I immediately made my way back to the hospital and found Willow.

“Do you know how hard it is to try and communicate with a wizard who turned his head into a giant dandelion?” Willow asked me. “I had to try and figure out exactly how he did it so I could reverse the spell, and let me tell you, it was not easy.”

I smiled at the thought. “Well, I imagine it ended well?”

“Yeah, dandelion-head is back to being old Cameron Kilmer.”

“Let me guess, he was trying to make his plants grow bigger, and it all went awry?”

“You got it,” Willow grinned. Cameron was an amateur gardener—emphasis on the amateur—who was convinced he was Rhea’s gift to gardening and had recently begun attempting to enter the local largest gourd competition, in which the best gardeners in the Pacific Northwest got together and showed off their biggest pumpkins, squashes, and zucchinis. The competition was taking place in a couple of weeks, and it looked like Cameron was trying to give his plants a nudge in the wrong direction.

“On the bright side, if dandelions were a gourd, I probably could have left him that way for a couple of weeks and he would have romped it in,” Willow said. “It was literally the size of his face. And his neck had turned into a green stalk, too.”

“That’s so weird,” I said with a shudder. “I’m glad I don’t do what you do.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure magical fixers have to deal with gross magic too,” Willow said. “So you’d better get used to my war stories.”

“Right. That’s if I even need the money after I blow this case wide open. Is Anne around? I have a quick question I need to ask her.”

“Sure, the students will be leaving for the day soon. Wait by the exit and she’ll come out that way.”

I thanked Willow and made my way to a bench at the hospital entrance. Sure enough, about ten minutes later, a handful of witches and wizards with the requisite “A” stamped onto their uniforms, along with a smaller “S” designating them to be students, made their way through the doors, looking harried and ready for a good night’s sleep.

Anne was one of the last of them to come through, walking slowly, looking down at the ground. She looked ready to burst into tears at any moment. My heart broke for her; it couldn’t have been easy having to grieve in secret the way she was doing.

“Hey, Anne,” I said to her softly as she walked past me. Maybe too softly; the witch jumped about a foot in the air as she spotted me.

“Oh. Ali, hi,” she said.

“Listen, I was wondering if I could ask you a quick question.”

“Sure, of course.”

“Did you tell Blaze that the potions Jason had been making were getting worse and worse? That more dragons were ending up in the hospital after taking them?”

“I sure did,” Anne nodded. “Well, I told him it seemed that way, anyway. It was

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