"For what it's worth," Charles said, "from what I can tell, every ward seems pretty busy most of the time?" He shrugged. "Whether it's from people having accidents or getting attacked or whatever. Maybe when there are enough magical people around, that's just how it goes?" That was the best explanation Charles could come up with, anyway. He wondered if it had been worse when there had only been St. Mungo's in London. At least now there were two magic hospitals--and the infirmary in Irvingly, he supposed, which was both magical and not? "My mother's a healer, and she's always pretty busy, and from the way she talks about it, it sounds like that's normal."

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