The Paladin Prophecy

BROOKE SPRINGER

Will heard soft classical music, then voices murmuring nearby. He opened his eyes and found himself lying on a bed in a dimly lit room. Shades of white and gray appeared as the room gradually came into focus.

“He’s awake,” he heard someone say.

Dan McBride sat by his bedside, regarding him with gentle concern. Lillian Robbins joined him a moment later. A young female nurse in a crisp white uniform appeared on the other side of the bed.

“Where am I?” asked Will.

“The infirmary,” said McBride. “You gave us quite a fright, young man.”

“How are you feeling?” asked Robbins.

His head ached sharply when he tried to move. He raised a hand to the left side of his head where it hurt the most and felt a thick bandage. His left index finger wore a clip connected to a pulse monitor that the nurse was now checking.

“Okay, I think,” said Will. “What happened?”

“An adverse reaction to the Infinity Room,” said McBride. “You passed out and banged your head when you fell. Took six stitches to zip you up.”

Will noticed a small bandage inside his right elbow.

“What’s this?”

“A blood sample,” said Robbins. “Precautionary tests.”

“If it’s any comfort,” said McBride, “you’re not the first new student to find that place a bit overstimulating. I haven’t set foot in there for years.”

“Dr. Rourke sends his apologies,” said Robbins.

Will closed his eyes against the pain. “How long was I out?” he asked.

“About twenty minutes,” said Robbins. “Dr. Rourke drove you himself.”

“How long do I have to stay?”

“Until they check under the hood,” said McBride. “And no more rugby for you today, young man.”

The curtain ahead was yanked aside, and a teasing female voice said, “You’re definitely up for a Drama Club Award, though.”

A girl about Will’s age, wearing a school uniform skirt and blouse, held the curtain at the foot of his bed. She was slender, athletic, with shoulder-length, fair curly hair the color of wheat and cornflower-blue eyes. And she wore a wry, crooked smile slightly at odds with the rest of her delicate, freckled features.

“For Most Dramatic Entrance Ever,” she said. “Bleeding all over the headmaster is a real attention-getter.”

She’s definitely got mine, thought Will.

“Will, this is Brooke Springer,” said Robbins. “Brooke will be your student liaison for the first few days.”

“She’ll show you around and help you settle in,” said McBride.

“They give me all the hopeless cases,” said Brooke with the sweetest smile.

“I feel better already,” said Will. “Is this going to leave a scar?”

“Your injury, or spending time with me?” asked Brooke.

“Guess I can always come back for more stitches,” he said.

Brooke giggled. Good sign, thought Will.

They let him out of bed after the nurse rechecked his vitals. She told him to come in for a follow-up in two days, avoid strenuous exercise, and get plenty of rest. He didn’t appear to have a concussion, but he was to call if any symptoms appeared. The nurse insisted he use a wheelchair, which Brooke insisted on pushing to the infirmary’s back door.

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