The medical wing smelled like blood and herbs. Not the worst combination, but it turned my stomach after five straight hours of checking on the wounded.

"How's Marcus doing?" I asked the healer tending to a student with bandaged ribs.

"Stable. The infection's clearing up." She didn't look up from her work, hands steady as she changed dressings. "Another week and he'll be back to light training."

"No training until I clear it personally." I squeezed Marcus's shoulder gently. The kid was ...