Oracle (Book I)

Nurse Redbeard

"Wait, Caprice. Its dangerous."

Sight blurred by her tears, Caprice struggled against Nezzle's hand firmly holding her back.

"We can't leave her in there!"

"Nothing on the field will vanish until the test is over."

Nezzle' eyes were wet with tears, too, but her gaze was waiting, trained on Bossa. Waiting for something to happen. She was muttering over and over again under her breath.

"Get up...get up... Get up, Bossa!"

Sure that Bossa was dead, Caprice lowered her head and cried in earnest, "How could this happen!"

"Yes!" Nezzle pumped her fist.

The crowd screamed and Caprice looked up again.

On the ground where she lay near the muskwood, Bossa's arm raised. A phantasmal scarlet sword materialized in her hand, bearing a long tie of ribbons at the base of its hilt. Still bleeding but fully conscious, Bossa slung herself off the ground and landed on one knee. Getting to her feet, she walked forward and, as she went, she severed the trepadora's writhing limbs in one swing. The vines fell to the ground, twitching and rolling, bleeding viscous green and white fluid.

Bossa stabbed her blade into the ground and leaned heavily upon it, panting and grimacing in pain. Caprice and Nezzle moved at the same time, running towards her. When they reached her, the sword shattered and vanished without a trace. They caught her as she fell, hoisting her up. Together, Nezzle and Caprice half-walked, half-carried her back to the other side of the protective barrier and to the nearest stretch of floor.

Anxiously, Caprice smoothed Bossa's braids to one side so they weren't caught under her, so that her head was as comfortable as possible.

"The poison!" She knew an elixir that would aid in fighting off the effects of trepadora poison, but it wasn't something that even the most talented witch could whip up over night let alone in the next few minutes.

Bossa drew in a couple of raspy breaths. "I'm all right, you all. I just need to rest." Her eyes drifted shut.

"No! Wait, Bossa, please!" Caprice called. She shook her.

Eyes snapping open, Bossa said, "I said I'm all right, Preece..."

"Caprice, it's all right," Nezzle said, looking like she wanted to say something more.

Bossa touched the golden apple that Caprice still clutched then she squeezed Caprice's hand. "You did it." She frowned. "I want a gold one..."

"I'm s-so sorry," Caprice sobbed. Putting the apple down, she clutched Bossa's hand to her chest. "It's all my fault. I should've protected you instead! I didn't move fast enough. I—!"

"Mm-mn," Bossa shook her head a little. "You did the right thing. I was handling it...things went bad is all.... I'll be fine, Preece. You'll see. This is nothing."

Professor Earithean knelt at Bossa's head with another teacher who had sun-kissed wheat and chestnut streaked hair intricately braided in tinsel. The other teacher handed Earithean a short vial.

Uncorking the vial, Earithean reached around and pressed it to her student's lips. "Here, for the pain, Pupil Bossa. Drink up," she said.

"Again, Bossa? Really."

"Nurse Redbeard!" Bossa waved sloppily.

Bearing a stylishly cut goatee, his red eyebrow cocked, the tall, attractively built man who had spoken stepped into the space between Earithean and Caprice. He wore in brocade breeches, thick cavalier boots, and a black eye patch over his right eye. He studied Bossa from head to toe for a second then took the eye patch off, smoothing his long red hair back. Caprice saw that his other hazel eye was perfectly whole.