by JA Andrews
Ewan walked to the fire, stoked it, then tossed the vial into the back of the fire place. The mixture spluttered and hissed before it caught fire. In moments, it was gone.
Silence filled the room like a heavy blanket.
Ewan sat back down across from Alaric. “With such a sickness, how is it that she still lives?” he asked quietly.
Alaric thought of the darkness that had spread up her leg, the way her skin had burned with fever.
He whispered, “She lives because I have done terrible things.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Alaric stared into the fireplace, watching the flames sweep across the surface of the wood, curling and burning the edges slowly and inexorably. He didn’t want to remember it all, didn’t want to voice the words, didn’t want to taint this room. Those things were better locked deep inside.
Ewan sat silent and still.
Alaric let his gaze flick to the face of his old friend. There was still no judgment, just an invitation to unburden himself.
The words swelled, pushing their way up his throat, telling Ewan how he had traveled south looking for the antidote.
“I sent word to you here,” he said to Ewan, “but heard you were in a small village at the southeast edge of the realm. After King Kendren’s poisoning, I knew every book the library here had on the subject, so it wouldn’t have been worthwhile to come back if you weren’t here.
“I spent months traveling all over the south in increasingly desperate searches for anything that would help, but I found nothing. I was about to set out in search of you when I discovered that the mayor of Bortaine had an unusual interest in Shade Seekers. He had a small library of histories and writings of some of the lesser Shade Seekers. In several of the scrolls, there were mentions of revivals of those almost dead. I had exhausted every other place I could think of, so I went back to the Stronghold to see if they had any insight into the Shade Seekers’ work. They were… unwilling to help with what I needed.” Alaric paused. “So I left.”
Ewan sank back in his seat, a slight nod the only sign that he understood the permanence of that sentence.
“I went to the library at Sidion.”
Ewan’s eyes widened. “The Shade Seekers let you in?”
Alaric shook his head. “There weren’t any there. I don’t know if there usually are, but I found it empty. Their library is in a tower at the southern end of a valley. They have a keep somewhere beyond it, but I didn’t go that far.”
It had taken all morning to direct a vine in between the library door and the wall, then swell it until the wood cracked. “I could only get into the ground floor. I didn’t even see a way to go higher, although I’m sure there were more rooms above me.
“But the books I was looking for were all on the first floor. Their records of poisons were extensive and well organized, with antidotes listed and cross-referenced, but still I didn’t find an antidote to the venom. But it didn’t matter because what I was looking for didn’t have anything to do with poison.”
In that tower, he had pulled the dark blue book down from the shelf where it sat alone. The cover was lined with iron, and the volume felt heavier than it should have. The pages smelled of decay and unwholesome things. He had drawn back from the book for a moment. In the Stronghold, this would be locked behind the warning gate. Maybe locked up more than that. When he flipped open the book, he had found thick paper pages with ink that had sunk into the paper, as though it had corroded it.
Alaric glanced up at Ewan. “Keeper magic involves transferring energy between living things. Shade Seekers have no problem transferring energy across the boundary between living and inanimate things.
“But the balance between life and… not life always favors the dead. When the boundary is crossed, the living thing is always depleted, but the dead thing cannot be made alive. Keepers are leery of moving energy over that boundary because they value the living over the dead. Shade Seekers value power over both.
“I found a book explaining how Shade Seekers pull the energy out of a living thing. When they do, a stone is formed to hold the energy. Not quite a living thing, but not quite dead.
“They call it a Reservoir Stone and use it as storage for vitalle. They create these… monsters that guard their valley. The creatures are a crossbreed of human and animal. They store the vitalle of a human in one of these Reservoir Stones until they press it into a living animal.” He grimaced at the memory of a bear he had seen from the library. It was lurching through the woods on misshapen legs, while it chewed on the hind leg of a small deer. The deer was still alive.
“Their use for it was repulsive, but the idea itself was fascinating. It was similar, in a way, to what Keepers do with runes. We infuse them with energy and store it there until the rune needs to work. Except instead of forcing the energy into something, the Shade Seekers allowed the energy to create a vessel for itself.
“I spent a week in Sidion and never saw another soul. When I returned to Evangeline, I found that, despite the trance I had put her in, the poison had progressed.” Her face had been so pale he had thought her dead. The desperation of that day caught in his breath. There had been no hesitation, no debate as to the rightness of it.
Alaric pulled the ruby from the pouch at his neck. It filled his palm with a rich, red light. He fisted his hand and squeezed, letting its warmth seep into his fingers, then opened his hand and held it out toward his friend.
Ewan drew in a breath and leaned forward. He stared at the swirling light, his face a mix of horror and amazement. “Where is her body?” The apothecary’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“The body lives when the vitalle is removed, but it lacks a will. It will neither eat nor sleep. And if I had left her body alone, the poison would have just continued to spread.
“The knowledge from the Shade Seekers opened up new ways of using vitalle that I had never considered. I created a crystal to encase her body, to merge with her, keeping her alive while it kept her from changing.”
Ewan’s eyes were wide and his face was very still. “You stopped her from… aging?”
“Not stopped, but slowed down. It will take years for her to age a month.” Alaric dropped his eyes to the ruby. “But the poison needs much less than a month.”
Ewan’s eyes were locked on the ruby again. “How long ago…?”
“A little over a year.”
His eyes lifted to Alaric’s face. “You’ve carried that this whole time?”
Alaric nodded. “I needed to know how to stop the poison, so I traveled south. I tracked down the blood doctors in Napon, any that were competent.”
Ewan’s eyes went flat.
Alaric forced himself to meet his friend’s gaze. “I studied with them for a time, learning about the poisons they used and the antidotes. Their methods are as brutal as we had heard. They perform all their experiments on prisoners, and if they run out of those, they round up the poor off the street.
“The elderly, women, children. There are death caves beneath the city where the fires that burn the bodies never go out. Even there, I found no antidote to the rock snake. So I left.”
Ewan’s face mirrored the repulsion Alaric felt. “I destroyed some things on my way out.” He squeezed his eyes shut, banishing the memory of the cave, the stench of decay and blood, the constant background hum of moaning cut through with shrieks. “What I should have done was burn it down.
“After that, I went to Coastal Baylon and spent time at their library and at the university.” The shelves of books there had been endless. “They have so much knowledge there. Books on every topic imaginable bursting off the shelves. And they research new things constantly. Building after building with labs and experiments and research. It’s no wonder they have no regard for us. We’re barbarians in comparison.” He shook his head.
“The experiments they do with poisons, though, are gruesome.” He pictured the long line of cells, the stench, the screams of the dying. “They use prisoners
for study also.”
Alaric shook off the memory. “They even have a small number of books on Keepers. In one, I found a reference to Kordan the Harvester. He was credited with having an antidote to the bite of a rock snake.
“So a few weeks ago, I came back to Queensland to see what the Keepers knew of Kordan. And you know the rest.”
“Can you reverse this?” Ewan gestured to the gem that Alaric was still rubbing between his fingers.
“I think so.” Alaric stared at the ruby. “I know how they take this energy and put it into another creature. I will put it back into Evangeline instead.
“None of it matters, though, unless Kordan really recorded an antidote and I can get to it. If I can’t, my choice lies in leaving her asleep to die a lingering death, or wake her to a quick one. Painful, but quick. And I’m running out of time. The light in the ruby is beginning to fade.”
Alaric tucked the ruby back into its pouch.
“I’ve been thinking of what Gustav wants the Wellstone for. Once he has learned the knowledge it holds, I think he will use it as a well of energy. If he fills it with vitalle, it will hold a great deal of power. Whatever his plan is to raise Mallon, it is going to take a lot of energy. And when Gustav fills the Wellstone with energy, if he really takes advantage of every bit of power it will hold, I am certain when he pours it out into Mallon, the memories in the Wellstone will be destroyed.”
Alaric raised his gaze to his friend again, looking for hope that he knew he wouldn’t find. “Gustav is so far ahead of us that I can’t believe we are going to catch him. There is nothing to stop him from finding Mallon’s body and waking him.”
Alaric gripped the ruby through the pouch. He wasn’t going to get the Wellstone. After everything, the antidote was going to slip through his fingers. All the pain he had caused Evangeline, all the pain he had endured, all the people he had let down, it was for nothing.
Alaric dropped his head into his hands. “I should have let her die.”
Chapter Thirty
The truth filled the room.
It was useless to believe anything else. It was time to stop looking away from it. He faced it squarely.
“I should have let her die,” he repeated. The words, even though just a whisper, opened something inside of him. Some dark corner that he had kept closed cracked open. He saw himself, withered and pale, coiled around the hope of an antidote. Wrapped so tightly that the beauty of that hope was gone. What should have been bright was crushed and deformed into something else, something unrecognizable.
“Maybe,” Ewan said quietly, “but letting those we love die is no easy thing. Nor should it be.”
Alaric did not move, but the coiled creature inside him unwound the slightest bit more at the apothecary’s words. There was permission to stop. An invitation to stop turning away. To face what was done and release it. His actions could not be undone anymore than the poisoning. But he could let go of the mess he had made of it.
He met Ewan’s sympathetic gaze. For the first time, the words came out not as a desperate cry, but as a statement. “I should have let her die.”
Ewan’s eyes were wet, but he did not argue. “What will you do?”
Alaric took a deep breath and stared into the fire, watching the flame devouring the wood, leaving nothing but a small pile of ash.
“I will try to stop Gustav. But if I can’t, then there is nothing left to be done,” Alaric said, “beyond begging her forgiveness and letting her go.”
Ewan motioned around the room. “Alaric, you know that everything I have is yours. If there is anything that I have that would help you in any way…”
Alaric gave a slight smile. “I’ve collected a fairly impressive store of medicinal plants for myself. You should come see it.”
“Maybe you could bring it back here.” At Alaric’s silence, Ewan continued. “Whatever you decide to do, when it is done, please consider coming back and continuing in your role of Keeper.”
“Continuing?” Alaric gave a bitter laugh. “I haven’t played a Keeper role in… a lifetime.”
“You’re orchestrating a group of mismatched, powerful people to, what was it? Take care of some ‘significant trouble brewing to the west?’ That sounds very much like something a Keeper might do.”
After a long moment, Alaric sighed. “It does, doesn’t it?”
“You’re rather good at it, you know.”
Alaric stared into the fire. Yes, he was acting like a Keeper, but that is all it was. Just acting. What he wanted to do was go to Evangeline. “When I think of what will happen if we fail to stop Gustav, my first thought is that it won’t be safe for Evangeline to be cured in such a world. Saving the world is lower on the list than saving her.”
Ewan shrugged. “Heaped together, the world doesn’t look like anything worth saving. It only looks valuable when we think of it in terms of those we love.”
“Still. It’s not a very Keeperish sentiment.”
“It would be if more Keepers left their tower and loved someone in the world.”
The apothecary rose and went to the fire. He puttered around for several minutes before producing two cups of tea.
Alaric sat with an empty mind. He let the familiar sounds and smells seep into him, filling an emptiness he hadn’t realized was there.
“Reece died last year,” Ewan said, still facing the fire.
Alaric’s gaze snapped up to his friend.
“No! Ewan, I’m so sorry. I’ve been talking and talking, and I never even asked…”
“It was an infection in her lungs that wouldn’t heal.” Ewan looked out the window at the pouring rain. “I knew I couldn’t fix it, but I still tried everything I could. I even tried things I knew wouldn’t work. The darkest day was the one when I admitted there was nothing I could do.”
Silence stretched out between them. Reece and Ewan had been married for years before Alaric had met them. Their marriage, with its easy camaraderie, was the first one Alaric had ever envied.
“She lived four more days. Four days.” Ewan sighed deeply. “I wish I had some great wisdom for you.”
Alaric could think of nothing to say. How had he not recognized the grief that rolled off his friend? Maybe because it was different from his own. There was no taint of hope in Ewan’s. It was worn in, draping familiarly over him, bowing his shoulders. Is this what Alaric would look like in a year? Would this frantic, clawing grief that threatened him turn into something so quiet?
“May I pay my respects to her?” Alaric asked.
Ewan led Alaric outside and around the house, hugging the walls to stay out of the rain. Behind the apothecary, an enormous oak tree grew, dozens of huge branches twisting out in different directions. “I’m glad they buried her on the royal grounds,” Alaric said.
Ewan nodded. “The queen herself ordered it and set the stone workers to make the headstone.”
Alaric raised one eyebrow.
“Don’t worry,” Ewan said. “I talked her down from an eight-foot-tall angel to a stone marker.”
Alaric laughed. “She’s probably saving those angel plans for you.”
Ewan winced. “I should design something for myself. Plans she’ll feel obligated to follow after my death.”
Beneath the oak, nestled between two enormous roots was a grey stone marker. It read, “Reece ~ Beloved wife and friend.”
Sitting on top was a delicate, pale pink flower.
“Lambsbreath always was her favorite,” Ewan said. “That’s one of the last blooms of the season.”
“When I first arrived at the palace,” Alaric said, “it had been years since I had lived in a city. I told Reece I missed sprawling pine forests, that the city smelled stale. A week later, she appeared with a tray of dirt and moss formed into a little hill. She had planted a handful of pine tree shoots. She said it was my own forest, and anytime I needed to smell it, it would be on my desk. “
Ewan smiled. “She was proud of that little forest. You should h
ave seen how excited she was when she thought of it.”
“It worked. My desk smelled like pine trees every day.”
Alaric leaned forward over the flower. He cast out to feel the vitalle from the grass around him, from the enormous oak and from the surrounding gardens. He laid his finger on the lambsbreath and found what was left of its own life. The edges of its petals were beginning to curl and wilt, the stem was dry. A trickle of energy swirled deep inside the flower, a combination of the white vitalle that made up its essence, giving it shape and scent, and the little veins of purple vitalle winding through it, letting the cut flower cling to life.
His finger began to tingle as he drew out the purple, separating strand after strand and gathering it just above the flower. A violet haze appeared and brightened.
The fog of purple flickered, and Alaric pulled small amounts of the vitalle from the grass beneath his knees, infusing the mist, giving it strength. The glow brightened again, tingeing the delicate pink petals with purple.
He set his other hand on the gravestone and felt the deep, slow essence of the stone. No energy swirled through it, no light, no color. But the stone was infused with its own dense sense of being.
It was this Alaric gathered, like collecting dewdrops. He felt down into the stone and stripped tiny beads of its essence out, pressing them into the glowing purple light above the flower.
His hand on the gravestone burned, but Alaric pressed it to the surface of the rock. He was almost done.
The bits of the stone he had added to the prick of purple light began to weigh it down. Alaric guided it back into the flower, spreading it along the surface of each petal and down the stem. The light diffused easily, flowing out into a lavender gauze covering the lambsbreath.
The flower pulled energy from him now, drawing what it needed. Alaric opened the channel wider from the grass through to his finger. He felt a blister begin to form on his fingertip where it touched the flower and moved more of his fingers to touch it, spreading out the pain.