The Apprentice Graduates: The Alchemist Book 3

Chapter 3-3

When I woke up the next morning, my head was splitting, and my memory of the events was fuzzy.

I also woke up very late, which is extremely rare for me.

When I moved in bed, sitting up, Jack, who had been standing by the window (looking at the cat play? Who knows), turned to me.

"I see you're finally awake. Here, drink this," he said, approaching me with a tray with a steamy cup. I took the cup.

The contents smelled rather foul.

"What is this?" I asked, feeling a bit nauseous.

"Not exactly sure," Jack said, "but your Grandpa said it's good for your magic. You drank too much yesterday, it's not good for your control. Thankfully, you didn't lose it. Do you want to know what you did lose?"

I could guess. My clothes? My dignity?

"No," I said. "And I don't want to know. Do I need to drink this, though? I feel fine."

Not bad enough to drink that, for sure.

"That's what your Grandpa said," Jack said. "And he knows way more about magic than I do. Just drink it."

I refused, setting the tray aside and trying to stand up.

"Drink it," Jack said, "or I'll tell you everything you did yesterday in excruciating detail."

I quickly drank the drink, trying to hold my breath while I did so. It tasted as foul as it smelled.

"Now, wash away the taste with this," Jack said, giving me a glass of water, which I drank eagerly.

I still had the foul taste in my mouth.

"I'll go tell Bettie to warm up your breakfast," Jack said, standing up and heading toward the door. "The taste should get away by the time you wash up and are ready."

I headed toward the bathroom. Should wash my teeth first. Hopefully, that would get rid of most of the taste.

When I looked at myself in the mirror, I was more convinced of my decision not to know what happened last night.

I looked like a half-rotten zombie. My eyes were bloodshot, with bags around my eyes. I had a bruise that covered half of my right cheek, which didn't seem to hurt. I brushed my fingers lightly over it.

Now it hurt.

When I finished washing up, I still looked awful, but was clean, the bruise was covered up in Grandpa's magical cream (and the other bruises on my body, too, spread through the least likely places), and smelled of medicine and soap rather than vomit and piss (don't know how Jack handled sleeping next to me).

I left our bedroom and noticed the blanket on the sofa.

He didn't. Smart guy.