Poisoned: The Book of Maladies Read online

  “Now that we are all here,” he began, his gaze lingering on Alec, “we can talk about something a little different today. I understand that Master Eckerd demonstrated ingestions to you. Today, we will be discussing something else. Now, I need you all to gather around.”

  He stepped to the side and waited for all of the students to join him at the cot.

  When Alec did, he realized the person lying there was not alive.

  He wasn’t the only one to pick up on that. Someone gasped, though Alec couldn’t tell who it was. Others took a step back. Alec remained close to the cot, trying to study the body, wondering what Master Carl would have them learn from this person. There had to be a reason for him to have brought the body to them. It was unusual enough that an instructor had a cot in one of the lecture halls, but even more unusual was bringing in a lifeless body.

  “What can you tell me from initial observations?” Master Carl asked.

  No one spoke.

  Alec looked at the body. It was an older man, possibly close to his father’s age. Dark hair was cut short and neatly groomed. The man had a trace of a beard across his face. He didn’t have any appearance of someone who was ill, nothing like so many who presented to the university. Surprisingly, he looked rather hearty. Were it not for the fact that he clearly did not breathe, Alec would have believed him sleeping.

  As his father had taught him, he let his gaze go from studying his face to looking at his neck, and then on to his hands. Master Carl had made a point of referencing the solpace juice injection that they had seen with Eckerd, so Alec wondered if there was a connection there. Maybe that was part of the point, a reason that he had shared that. He noted nothing unusual about the hands, other than that his nails were trimmed and clean.

  Alec found himself staring at the man’s nails for long moments. Unlike the last man, this one had the look of a highborn. His appearance was nothing like the other man’s. Where that man had a shaggy and unkempt look to him, this man was well-dressed, and his clothing finely appointed.

  “No one has any observations about how this man might have perished?” Master Carl looked at each of the students and held his gaze on Alec the longest.

  The master clearly wanted some response and seemed to expect something from Alec in particular. He knew that he’d gained something of a reputation, but hoped that it was a good one, not one where he annoyed the masters. He understood they cared little for his father’s work at the apothecary. They viewed that as beneath someone who had trained at the university.

  Beckah elbowed him, and he resisted the urge to look down at her.

  “Surely, one of these excellent students has some idea about what happened to this man. It can’t be that none of you has an opinion, can it?”

  Alec stepped forward and took the man’s hand, ignoring the annoyed glares from several of the students, Matthias among them. Beckah followed him to the edge of the cot, watching him assess the man. Alec first confirmed that there was no heartbeat by placing the tips of his fingers on the inside of the man’s wrist feeling for a pulse, but there was none. He double-checked it by going to his neck, reaching for the larger artery there, but once again, there was no pulse.

  He couldn’t shake the fact that this man seemed too healthy to have died at a fairly young age. Alec tipped his head down, listening for breath sounds, but there were none. With no heartbeat and no movement in his chest, he hadn’t expected any.

  “What are you doing?” Beckah asked in a whisper.

  “Trying to figure out what claimed him.”

  “Why are you reevaluating his heart and lungs? You can tell he’s not alive.”

  Alec glanced over, ignoring the watchful eyes of the others around him. Master Carl simply gazed at him through slitted eyes. “Because he’s either recently dead, or he isn’t completely dead.”

  It felt odd to say that last thought, but Alec had been around people who had died before, and there was a change to the complexion of the skin that occurred almost immediately following death, a sallow appearance that this man simply didn’t have. Even the texture of the skin on his hands was more rigid than what Alec would have expected.

  “Not completely dead?” Matthias asked with a hint of derision.

  Alec glanced over. Matthias had a bright mind, and he immediately wondered if he’d missed something that Matthias might have picked up. If he had, Alec had little doubt the man would throw it in his face and make certain that the others were fully aware of Alec’s folly.

  “It doesn’t make sense,” Alec began. “I’ve been taught to look for inconsistencies, and to avoid expectations.”

  “Expectations?” Matthias snorted. “You’re questioning the expectation that the man is dead when you can see that with your own eyes?”

  Master Carl leaned forward, placing his belly up to the edge of the cot. It shifted the weight of the cot, sending it into Alec’s thighs. “What would your assessment be if not death?” Master Carl asked.

  Alec shook his head. “I don’t know. He has no pulse, though it could be too faint for me to detect.”

  “And he’s not breathing,” Beckah added.

  “You’re not helping,” Alec said out of the corner of his mouth.

  Beckah shrugged.

  “Like I said, either he’s recently dead, or something happened to him that put him in a suspended sort of state.”

  There were a few snickers around the table. Master Carl silenced them with a single gaze. “We deal in what can be observed, not what can be imagined. Are you really suggesting that something magical might have happened to this young man?”

  Alec squeezed his eyes shut. Were he any other place—were he with Sam even—he would question whether the easar paper had been used and whether it was responsible for somehow holding this man in a state like this. That was the only magic that Alec knew, but it wasn’t beyond his understanding of what was possible with easar paper.

  “I’m not suggesting anything,” he said with a frustrated sigh. “Only that what I see doesn’t completely make sense.”

  Master Carl grunted. “Back to your seats, students.” He waited as they all took their seats, and Beckah gave Alec a nervous glance. His heart pounded, and he realized that maybe he’d overstepped himself one too many times. Perhaps this was the time that he should have simply remained silent and let the master teach as he had intended. Why did he feel the need to speak up? Had he already begun to think that he knew so much more than the others? It wasn’t that the others here were not smart—Alec knew that they were—and he’d become far too comfortable with speaking his mind.

  “Now,” Carl continued, “we will talk today about mimickers of death. There are many that give an illusion of death, and when dosed in such a way, they can create a believable corpse.”

  “Is that what happened with that man?” Matthias asked. “Was he given something that mimicked death? Maybe some sort of magical mimic of death.”

  Master Carl offered a hint of a smile. “As I said, there are many things that mimic death. In this case, we believe he was administered foxglove, a plant found on the plains of one of the southern sections that, in adequate doses, can slow the heart. There are stories of men who used foxglove to fake their own death, before awakening and escaping.”

  “Will he awaken?” Beckah asked.

  Alec had heard of foxglove in passing, but it was a leaf used for other reasons. His father had explained foxglove and how it was used to help with a racing heart. Just a small amount would help slow it and settle the heart of someone suffering from such an ailment. Alec had never had the opportunity to administer it, but he supposed that if it was possible to use foxglove to slow a racing heart, it could also slow a resting heart, couldn’t it?

  “He may awaken,” Master Carl said. “Your magic-chasing student was correct in that. He does not appear as one would expect of someone who is deceased.”

  It was small consolation to Alec to be granted that much of a compliment. He didn’t feel he
’d observed anything useful. He felt more like he’d made a massive mistake in speaking up.

  “Today, we are going to work with foxglove,” Master Carl said. He pulled a jar off the shelf and set it on the table at the front of the room. “A small amount is all that’s necessary. Nothing more than a pinch, and you’ll be able to feel its effects firsthand.”

  “What if we use too much?” Beckah asked.

  “There is a reversing agent,” Master Carl said.

  “Why don’t you give it to that man?” she went on.

  “Finding the reversal agent is difficult. Thistle root only grows in a few places. Even then, it must be carefully harvested. It is fragile and has been known to break before it can be fully used.”

  Alec’s gaze went to the man on the cot. If thistle root worked to help reverse the effects of foxglove, was there any at his father’s apothecary shop? His father often carried medicines that weren’t found any other place in the city. It was one of his father’s gifts, an ability to harvest what others could not, and for a moment, he wondered if he might be able to help this man.

  “Pair up and test the foxglove. Don’t use much more than a pinch unless you wish to end up like him.”

  Beckah grinned at Alec. “Will you be my partner? We’ll see if we can stop your heart.”

  “I’m not sure you really want me for your partner.”

  “Why? Because you believe in magic? You wouldn’t be the only person in the city to believe in it.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “You might be the only person at the university, though.”

  “Great.”

  Beckah took the jar of foxglove as it was passed around the room, and took an entire leaf, setting it on the table between them. She passed the jar to Stefan, who had paired with Matthias.

  Alec looked at the leaf. It had serrated edges and deep green coloration. The surface was practically velvety otherwise.

  “I suppose you’ve worked with foxglove before,” Beckah said.

  “I haven’t worked with it. I know of it. My father used it for other purposes than what Master Carl describes.”

  “So, something other than faking your own death?” Beckah asked with a smile.

  Alec grinned. “I can’t say that my father ever was asked to help somebody fake their own death.”

  “Did he ever poison anyone?” she asked, turning toward the man lying motionless at the front of the room.

  “I find it hard to think of my father attempting to poison anyone. He’s always been so focused on healing.”

  “Isn’t it interesting how medicines can so quickly turn into poisons? Think of what we’ve learned. How many of these treatments have other uses and can be used to harm as quickly as they can help.”

  “It’s all about moderation,” he said.

  She peeled off a strip of the foxglove and stuffed it into her mouth. “Monitor my heart. I would hate to have it stop and not be able to restart.”

  Alec took her wrist and pressed his fingers over the artery, feeling her pulse. He couldn’t help but be impressed that she so willingly had taken the foxglove. She knew the risks and had seen what could happen, the same as he had. Master Carl had not given them any instruction about how much was too much to take. Only a pinch. If she mistakenly took the wrong amount, she could be the one lying on a cot, her heart rate undetectable, and her breathing stopped.

  “Interesting,” she said. Her voice had taken on a sleepy quality to it.

  Alec could feel her pulse slowing. It happened quite rapidly. “We should have documented how much you administered.”

  “He said only… a pinch.”

  The lids of her eyes started to drift closed, and she swayed in her seat. Alec hurried around to the other side of the table and helped her slide down in the seat so that she wouldn’t fall. She was still awake, and she fought to keep her eyes open, but he could see her fighting through the effects of the foxglove.

  “How do you know if your pinch is different from his pinch?” Alec asked. “To be safe, we should have a way of maintaining consistency.”

  Beckah took a deep breath, and her eyes popped open. She shook herself and sat up. “Well. That was interesting.”

  Alec took her wrist, noting that her pulse had rebounded. The effect of the foxglove was short-acting. If that was typical, then why did the man remain so sedated?

  Alec looked to Master Carl and saw him speaking softly to a pair of students near the front, Jason and Sarah. Both were minor highborns, and both were of moderate ability from what Alec had seen.

  “It’s your turn,” Beckah said.

  Alec turned his attention back to her and tore off a narrow strip of the foxglove. He hated taking much more than that, hated the idea that he might end up incapacitated as the man at the front of the room apparently still was, if he wasn’t dead by now.

  “What is it?” Beckah asked.

  Alec popped the leaf into his mouth. It had a bitter quality to it and was strangely meaty. “How is it that the man has been out for so much longer than you were?” He could hear his voice slurring and felt his heart slowing.

  “What? I couldn’t understand what you said.”

  Alec sighed and reached for his wrist, pressing his fingers to it, feeling the slowing heartbeat. It was down to a dangerous level. Had he taken too much?

  Panic set in, and he tried to will his heart to beat faster, to force it to speed up, but nothing he tried worked.

  The effect hadn’t lasted long for Beckah, and he hoped it would be equally short-lived for him, but he felt his mind fogging even more; with each passing moment, it became increasingly difficult for him to think clearly.

  Much longer, and his heart would stop.

  What would Alec do then?

  “Why isn’t it wearing off?” he asked. The words sounded strange, even to him. What must they sound like to Beckah, or the other students?

  He continued to feel himself drifting and hated that he did.

  Then his heart stopped.

  Alec felt it stop, was aware of that moment, and knew fear unlike anything he had ever known in his life. He was going to die. Worse, he would die, and Sam would never know.

  That was his last thought before he knew nothing else.

  12

  Understanding the Past

  Sam hurried through the courtyard, having heard word that Elaine had returned. She hadn’t known the woman had been gone but hadn’t seen her in days. All of her training had been overseen by others, those with skill, but not much more than that. If Elaine was back, she had more training ahead of her, but she also had questions.

  She came across Elaine near the massive rear door to the palace.

  The woman was covered in dirt and had dark circles under her eyes. She was slightly taller than Sam, but otherwise had the same slight profile and dark complexion as Sam.

  “Samara. Is there something I can do for you?”

  A dozen different questions raced through her head, but none of them seemed fully appropriate. “Where have you been?”

  Elaine gaped at her a moment. “I know you feel a certain entitlement here but trust me when I tell you that I have greater responsibilities than accommodating your needs.”

  Sam stepped back, feeling almost as if she’d been slapped. “My needs? I think my needs have been ignored for nearly a decade, don’t you, Mother? And how have I ever come off as entitled?” Sam didn’t know whether to be offended, outraged, or a mixture of both. Both seemed appropriate, but she was willing to remain cautious.

  Elaine took a deep breath. “Yes. You have been treated poorly. You live, when so many with your gifts do not. Excuse me if I struggle to feel as sorry for you as you would like.”

  “What happened?”

  Elaine blinked. “What happened was that I attempted a maneuver outside of the city and was nearly overwhelmed by the Thelns. The other Kaver with me did not make it back.”

  Outside of the city? She’d followed Elaine and lost
her in the darkness. Could she have been the one on the barge rather than whoever had attacked the merchant?

  “You lost a Kaver?”

  “There aren’t many Kavers left. Those who do remain don’t have their Scribes. Often, the Scribe is the first one targeted, as without our Scribes, we are limited to how much we can do.”

  “But you’ve been teaching me to function without my Scribe.” Sam had barely managed, but that wasn’t the point, was it? Elaine had tried to prove to her that she didn’t need her Scribe, or her augmentations, to effectively use her abilities. Sam tried but thought that she had only tapped into the barest edge of her abilities. She certainly didn’t have anything quite like what Elaine had demonstrated when they were sparring and working together.

  “I’ve been teaching you to function without a Scribe because at some point in your life, it’s likely you will not have a Scribe available to you. If you continue to follow this path, you will need to be stronger than you would be otherwise. You will need to be strong enough to manage without having a Scribe with you.”

  “What exactly happened?”

  Elaine shook her head. “It was an ambush. With the Thelns, it often is. We continue to suppress them, keeping them from the borders of the territory we control, but they continue to attempt to disrupt the protections we placed long ago.”

  “What kind of protections?”

  “The kind that you may learn if you continue to develop. If that’s all, I have a report to give,” she said, beginning to turn away from Sam.

  “Who was my father?” Sam blurted.

  “Your father?” she repeated slowly. She hadn’t turned back around and stood with her back to Sam.

  “Yes. The man who fathered me. I presume that Kavers can’t do it alone.”

  “Your father was an amazing man.”

  Was. Sam didn’t miss that particular word, which meant that her father was no longer.

  “What happened to him? Was he a Kaver or Scribe?”

  “He was neither. He was a man who helped save me when I was young.”

  “He saved you?”