Forgetting all about the chit-chat, I got up, following Walter to a sleek, black car waiting for us on the tarmac. Once we were safely behind the tinted windows and on the road, I leaned forward, touching Gilbert’s shoulder gently. He looked at me from the front seat. “Why isn’t Val the one healing Cody?” I asked. “Wouldn’t that be easier?”
We’d left the witch behind at the jet. I hadn’t asked why, but I was already wishing I had.
Gilbert sighed. “I’m not an expert in witches’ magic by any means,” he said, giving me a puzzled look. “But there is a such a broad spectrum of magic, so to speak, that individuals specialize. Perhaps you can be good at all things, but you cannot be an expert in all things. Some witches train their entire lives only to heal. If Cody has been injured with silver
