Poisoned: The Book of Maladies Page 26

  “What if they won’t see us?” he asked Beckah.

  She shook her head. “They’ll see us.”

  “How can you be so certain?”

  “You don’t see yourself the same way they see you. They might not be interested in me, but you present a different appeal to them.”

  “There’s no appeal. I think the fact that my father is an apothecary angers them more than anything.”

  “I don’t think it so much that he is an apothecary that upsets them, but the fact that he chose a different path for himself than what they chose.”

  His father still had secrets, and there was more that he needed to learn from him, but much like understanding what had happened with Tray and Beckah, it had to wait. Right now, there were more important things, though his curiosity was getting the best of him. Alec wasn’t good at waiting. He wanted answers when he had questions.

  They entered the university building and raced up the stairs toward the masters’ quarters. He’d already decided that he was going to try to find Master Eckerd, or even Master Helen, since both of them seemed willing to acknowledge him. As they rounded a corner, they encountered the master he least wanted to see.

  Master Carl frowned at him, his deep jowls seeming to draw shadows into them. He stood with a slight lean to him, tipping forward, almost as if his enormous belly was threatening to drag him down.

  “You shouldn’t be in the masters’ section.”

  “We’re looking for Master Eckerd.” Beckah stepped around him, speaking in a more confident tone than what Alec would have managed. She never seemed quite as impressed by the masters as Alec did.

  “Wait until his next class. Students don’t get to come and summon the masters.”

  “It’s important,” she said.

  Carl grunted. “I have no doubt you perceive it as important, but whether it is important is a very different thing.” Master Carl started down the hall, using his bulk to drive them along. He had a tendency to use his size to bully others, and it worked on Alec.

  Alec tapped Beckah on the arm. “We should go.”

  Beckah glanced over at him. “No. We’re not letting him get away with this again.”

  Master Carl paused. “Just what do you believe I’ve been getting away with?”

  “You’ve had it out for Alec ever since you saw him in class,” she said. “You didn’t like him for some reason.”

  Master Carl’s lips peeled back into a grin. “Is that so? Do you think that I care what happens with one of the students? I care only that the university continues to meet its mission.”

  “You care only that the university makes money.”

  Master Carl wrapped his arms above his belly and laughed. “You say that as if it’s such a bad thing. Without the university acquiring appropriate funds, we would not have the same level of scholarship. You should be thankful that we do and that we allow you to study here.” He arched a brow at her. “Perhaps you most of all.”

  “You think insulting me because the masters chose not to include me will work?”

  “Beckah—” Alec said.

  “No. If you’ve taught me nothing else, it’s that we have something we can offer to others in the city, and we do nothing other than restrict access to it.”

  “Restrict access? Is that what you truly believe?” Master Carl looked from Beckah to Alec. A sneer spread across his face. “How many do you think we could help if we offered our services to everyone? How many do you think would come, seeking healing, unmindful of the fact that others might need it more? If we use the ability to pay as a filter, it allows us to serve that much more.”

  “Master Carl, we mean no disrespect,” Alec began.

  “You absolutely mean disrespect. Much like your father meant disrespect. You think we don’t know what he does? Do you think we don’t know that he sells services in such a way that he bastardizes what he was taught?”

  “My father has done nothing other than offer healing services. He’s never charged anything for those services, other than what people were able to pay.”

  Master Carl laughed a dark laugh. “Never charged? Your father never charged because he didn’t need the money. He had another source of income.”

  “My father doesn’t have any money.”

  “If he has no money, how do you think he has so many supplies? I seem to recall hearing about a fire in that section of the city. How can a man with no funds manage to rebuild so quickly?”

  “What are you saying about him?” Beckah asked.

  “You better be careful who you associate with, Ms. Reynolds. If you have any political aspirations, you might see them extinguished before they even have a chance to come to fruition.” Master Carl started toward them again and push them down the hall, pressing them with his size.

  They were forced backward. Beckah took his hand, and together they tried to resist. Alec looked over to her, desperate to find Master Eckerd—or even Master Helen—but they would have to get past Carl, and there just didn’t seem to be a way to do that.

  “Please, Master Carl. This really is important. I need to find Master Eckerd—”

  They had reached the top of the stairs that led down, and Master Carl did not relent in his effort to remove them. Alec took a step down but kept hoping the master would change his mind and be willing to at least listen, but he didn’t seem to care. And he clearly had something against Alec’s father. What did he mean about his father having money? Master Carl seemed more familiar with his father’s business than he should be. More questions for later.

  “Master Carl. What are these students doing in our quarters?”

  Alec breathed out a sigh of relief. It was Master Eckerd.

  Carl turned away from them, shielding them from Master Eckerd as he approached. “The students decided to violate the masters’ quarters.”

  “And after your room had already been broken into,” Master Eckerd said.

  Master Carl hesitated. “Indeed.”

  “Which students are you trying to force down the stairs using your considerable girth?”

  “It does not matter. You should return to your studies. I believe that you were quite concerned about the nature of the shortage of various healing compounds.”

  Alec had to say something now, or he risked not getting a chance. “Master Eckerd,” he began. “I came looking for your help.”

  Carl glanced over his shoulder, giving Alec a hard glare, but Alec ignored it.

  “Mr. Stross. It is awfully late for a visit.” Eckerd stood near Carl and looked over his shoulder. “And you brought Ms. Reynolds with you. The only person you’re missing is Mr. Jaffar.”

  Alec was glad they hadn’t involved Stefan and didn’t know whether he would even have been willing to come along with them. Maybe having him with them would have been helpful, especially if they were able to reach his grandma Helen. But with Master Eckerd’s fortuitous arrival, they now simply had to get past Master Carl.

  “I have a question that needs an answer,” Alec said.

  Carl shot him a look. “I could have answered any question for you, Mr. Stross.”

  Alec ignored him. “This one has to do with a particular paper, and the skills required to use it.”

  Master Eckerd watched him for a moment and then nodded slowly. “Why don’t we discuss this in class tomorrow.”

  “That isn’t soon enough,” Alec said.

  “Mr. Stross, you are a talented student, otherwise I wouldn’t have brought you into the surgical suite. But you get ahead of yourself.” Eckerd looked at Carl. “I think you’re right to send them away. Some of the students really do think more of themselves than they should.”

  Carl grunted. “You only now see that? What have I been telling you about his father for the last two months?”

  “And what have I been telling you about judging the son by the father’s mistakes? I think if anyone would understand the importance of avoiding that, it would be you.”

  Carl frowned at
him before shrugging. He turned back to Alec and motioned for them to head down the stairs.

  Alec looked over to Beckah, a helpless feeling coming over him. What choice did they have but to comply? He had thought that coming to the university and finding one of the masters would give them answers, but it seemed the masters had no interest in helping.

  Could Eckerd be no different than Master Carl? Could he be only interested in how much money the masters could make?

  Alec followed Beckah down the stairs, having no choice but to do so. They reached the bottom and the entryway leading out of the university, and Beckah glanced back at him, shaking her head. “We can still try to help them,” she said.

  “I don’t know if we will be enough,” Alec said.

  “You’re going to try, though, aren’t you?”

  “I have to. Sam needs me.”

  As the door closed behind them, Beckah pulled him away from the building. She breathed out in a sigh. “I used to think that you had an unusual connection to her. After experiencing the power that I did, I’m beginning to understand.”

  They reached the courtyard and hurried toward the palace section. “I was hopeful that Master Eckerd might be able to answer—”

  “Answer what?”

  Alec spun. Master Eckerd was walking toward them, having come out of the building from a doorway that Alec didn’t even realize was there.

  “I thought you said we thought more of ourselves than we should?”

  Master Eckerd waved his hand. “That was for Carl’s benefit. He’s always wanted more political capital but has never managed to get it. Instead, he’s been forced to remain a physicker, and I think he resents that. Now. You have discovered that you’re a Scribe?”

  Alec blinked. It was much blunter than he had expected. “I’ve known for a short time that I’m a Scribe. Beckah just discovered that she is one as well. I thought there was some connection required between the Kaver and the Scribe.”

  Eckerd waved his hand again. “The connection is basically the first Scribe who mingles with the Kaver. That first union is what is important. Occasionally, a strong connection is made, though that’s not always the case.”

  “How… How do you know this?” Beckah asked.

  “Why do you think the testing at the university is so rigorous?” Eckerd asked. “Rarely is a Scribe’s talent revealed so early. Usually, it takes years of study to understand the appropriate techniques to document and make scribing effective, but I’m not surprised that Mr. Stross managed it. I am, however, surprised that Ms. Reynolds has discovered her affinity for scribing.”

  “I… may have had something to do with it.”

  Master Eckerd glanced from Alec to Beckah. “Perhaps that is for the best. Now. Why have you come looking for me?”

  Alec considered how much to tell Master Eckerd but decided telling him everything was best. It might be the only way they would get his help.

  35

  At the Canals

  The canal stretched out wide in front of them. Sam stood at its edge, her canal staff fully assembled, and a sense of anxiety rolling through her. What would she do when she encountered Marin? What would she say?

  Maybe she didn’t have to say anything. Marin hadn’t earned a response from her. All she had earned was her capture. Then Sam would force her to explain what she’d done to her so that it could be reversed.

  “Where do you think she’ll be?” Sam asked Tray.

  The canal through this section of the city was incredibly wide. It was patrolled more diligently, and few barges were allowed through here, certainly none without the royal family’s blessing. In the distance, Sam could see the palace rising, the gleaming stone reflecting the moonlight. Did Elaine even know what was taking place? She’d fought the Thelns, and presumably worked to keep the city safe, but she hadn’t managed to find Marin.

  Somehow, only Sam had managed that.

  “I didn’t hear all the details,” Tray said. “All I know is that she was going to be near the palace, and the man you grabbed was important to her, though I don’t know why.”

  Sam had thought that maybe he was a Scribe, but if so, for him to be “useful” as Marin had said, they would need easar paper. That might be why Bastan was missing, too. If nothing else, Bastan had shown a talent for acquiring the paper.

  Sam walked along the canal, every so often glancing over at Tray. He had surprised her as they’d crossed from Caster to this section. She’d used her canal staff to make the jump, but he hadn’t needed it. Always before, Tray had needed to use the bridges to cross, but now, he was able to jump them. Was it a Theln ability or was it something else?

  It was late, so they were cautious in their movements. Sam didn’t want to reveal their presence to Marin before she had a chance to understand what was taking place. She had little doubt that Marin had planned something. The challenge was determining what it was and what it meant for her.

  “There,” Tray said, pointing along the canal. It was rocky here, with a sharp drop from the street’s edge down to the water. The closer they got to the center of the city—and to the palace—the steeper the drop off to the canals. It was one way of regulating access.

  Sam followed the direction where he pointed and saw a cloaked figure standing at the canal’s edge. “That’s not Marin.” The figure was much too tall to be Marin.

  “Maybe not Marin, but…”

  Tray raced toward the figure without finishing, moving faster than Sam could without augmentation. She hurried after him, clutching her staff tightly, uncertain what she might encounter. As they neared, she could tell it was a man. Tray reached him and struck the man in the back of the neck, crumpling him to the ground.

  “Tray!”

  “He works with Marin. If you’re trying to reach her, you’ll need to know what she’s after,” Tray said.

  Sam looked down at the man, who lay unmoving. As Alec had taught, her she took note that he still breathed, his chest rising and falling steadily, and checked his neck to see that his heart still beat. Tray hadn’t killed him.

  She noticed a bag lying next to the man. She reached into it and found several empty clay containers. What would have been in them? And why would the man have these here along the canal?

  When she sniffed inside one of the containers, she noted a familiar, almost bitter odor. “What was in this?” she asked Tray.

  He glanced at the container and shrugged. “How would I know? I told you, I was only assigned to try to find information.”

  Sam had a feeling he had been asked to do more than that. “How would you know? Because you smell just like this jar smells.”

  Tray stared at her blankly. Sam set the container back down, stood, and started toward him, preparing to jab him in the chest and demand answers, when she noticed something floating in the water near the side of the canal.

  What was it?

  It was too far down for her to see easily, and much too dark for her to make out. She glanced back at the clay containers, and the man lying on the ground. There had to be a connection, didn’t there?

  “What was in those containers?” she asked Tray again.

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t given details about what she wanted. All I knew was that she needed particular experts, and I was told how to find them.”

  “What kind of experts?”

  He held her gaze. “The same kind of experts as your friend’s father.”

  “Alec? His father is an apothecary.”

  “Is that all he is? Marin believes he has a greater role than that.”

  What more could Marin think Aelus had done? “Why are you making this so difficult?”

  Tray sighed. “Because… I don’t know what she was doing.”

  “And you don’t know why you smell like whatever was in that jar?” She tapped the container with her staff.

  Tray shook his head. “I didn’t realize I smelled like anything.”

  Sam watched him for a moment before deciding she
needed to know what was in the water.

  Retrieving the jar from the others, Sam carefully placed her canal staff just at the water’s edge. She shot Tray a look and then flipped up, suspending herself above the water. Balancing like this was difficult, and she hadn’t completely mastered it, but each time she’d tried it, she’d gotten better than the time before. It was easier now. She shimmied down the staff, until she was just above the water, and realized the object in the water was some sort of leaf. Actually, many leaves. Dozens of them—possibly hundreds.

  As her staff began to slip, she scooped the jar into the water, collecting a few of the leaves, and flipped herself back to shore.

  “What is this?” she asked, pressing her nose into the jar and taking a long sniff. It wasn’t clear what it was, but the odor was the same as what she’d first smelled in the jar. And the same thing that Tray must have been around often enough to make him stink of it.

  “I don’t know.”

  Sam glanced at the man still lying motionless. “Bind him. If Marin is up to something, I don’t want any of her men to come after us.”

  “I’m one of her men,” Tray said.

  “I’m hoping that you’re one of my men, too.”

  Tray watched her for a moment, saying nothing. Sam turned away from him and started down along the edge of the canal, looking for signs of anything else. Every dozen feet or so, she saw more leaves in the water. Every time she did, she glanced back at Tray, but he didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he gave no indication that he cared.

  They found no one else depositing leaves into the canal, no more than what they had already discovered. Why had Marin wanted this man to put these leaves in the canals?

  They followed the canal as it circled around this part of the city until it came to another bridge that led over to the palace side. Sam had papers that would grant her access, but Tray did not. She wasn’t certain she even wanted him crossing to the other side, gaining access to the palace. He had changed enough that he made her uncomfortable, especially not knowing his allegiances.