The Book of Maladies Boxset

by D. K. Holmberg

  Sallow skin. Hollowed eyes. Thinning hair. Still has some strength remaining. A wasting disease like with the princess?

  He shook away the thoughts and turned his attention to Sam. “You were captured. I tried to find you, but they wouldn’t let me—”

  “I know I was captured,” she said.

  He tried to hide the hurt he felt at her words. He hadn’t wanted anything more than to try to first help the princess, and then to help Sam. It seemed he’d done neither.

  “I tried to find you, but I couldn’t,” he said. “They had escorted me out of the university, and by the time I made my way back to the prison, someone was leading you out. I followed you…”

  Sam’s expression changed, some of the darkness and the heat leaving her face. “You went to the prison?”

  He nodded. “I would have augmented you again, but I ran out of”—he turned to the woman leaning on the staff and wondered if he’d said too much— “ink. There wasn’t any left after I tried helping the princess again.”

  The woman leaning on the staff took a step toward him and started to sag. “What did you do for Lyasanna Anders?” she asked.

  Alec couldn’t help but note the woman’s familiarity as she said the name. Not the princess, but her full name. He wouldn’t dare consider such informality when speaking about the princess.

  “She’s sick.”

  “Was,” Sam said. She rubbed her shoulder as she did. Was it the same one the arrow had pierced?

  “Is,” Alec corrected. “Whatever I did was temporary. I don’t understand it, but after you left, a couple of guards came—”

  Her face darkened. “I know.”

  “The princess awoke, and I thought she might recover, but she failed again. I used what ink I had remaining, but I worry she’ll just fade again like she did the last time.”

  “She will,” the woman said.

  Alec noted the way her arms trembled. She wouldn’t be able to hold on to the staff much longer. As he watched, her grip slipped, and she dropped to the floor.

  Sam beat him to her.

  Alec checked her pulse and tipped his head to listen to her breathing. It was shallow but regular, though her heart beat was slower than it should have been. She was much farther gone than she appeared.

  “Hold out your hand,” he said to Sam.

  She frowned but did it, and without him asking, she used her knife to draw a single line across her palm, letting blood begin to flow.

  Alec reached into his pocket and found the rolled-up paper, and smoothed it on the floor in front of him. Dipping his finger into Sam’s palm, he used the blood as he began writing. He paused a moment and looked at Sam. “Her name.” When Sam frowned, Alec nodded to the woman. “What’s her name?”

  He didn’t know if it mattered, but suspected it did at least a little. The healing would need to be tied to someone for it to work.

  “Marin,” Sam said.

  “What’s her last name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Alec looked to the woman to see if she had anything she could offer, but she was unresponsive.

  He turned his attention back to the page and started writing, beginning with her name.

  As before, the blood took to the page, darkening slightly, becoming more brown than maroon, before lingering on the page. Exhaustion worked through him, and he sank back onto his heels, waiting to see if the healing would hold.

  “What happened?” he asked Sam as he waited.

  “You know what happened. I was chased into the hallway by the brute.”

  “The augmentations had…”

  “Faded,” Sam finished for him.

  He nodded. “Faded. I suppose that’s as good a term as any.” The words on the page hadn’t faded, though, so why should the abilities have done so? Then there was the healing that he’d added to the page. The princess’s healing had also faded. Why should it not remain when the healing he’d done for Sam and for Mrs. Rubbles did?

  “The guards appeared. There were enough of them that they chased him off.”

  “What happened then?”

  “They took me to prison, Alec. That’s what happened.”

  “How did you get out?”

  “Marin managed to get me released,” she said, pointing to the fallen woman.

  “When did Marin get sick?”

  “I don’t know. She wasn’t sick the last time I saw her.”

  “When was that?”

  “Only a few days ago.”

  A few days? That wouldn’t have been long enough for any sort of wasting illness to take hold, and certainly not for it to have progressed to the point where it left her this weakened.

  “I have been sick for barely a day,” Marin said without opening her eyes.

  Sam lifted her and propped her up before Alec had a chance to inspect her and see if the healing had worked.

  Marin studied him, almost ignoring Sam completely. “What did you do?”

  “I—”

  Sam saved him from needing to answer. “This is the apothecary I mentioned to you. Alec helped me when the brutes attacked me the first time.”

  “And he’s the one who helped heal the princess?”

  “I didn’t heal her,” Alec said.

  “She was getting better,” Sam said.

  “The healing faded. Like almost everything else I’ve written on this page.”

  Marin glanced down to the paper now covered with words written in blood ink. Her eyes widened slightly. “The healing will fail.”

  “I thought this paper was magical?” Alec asked.

  Marin smiled slightly. “Magic? Perhaps it is.”

  Sam tipped her head to the side, frowning. Alec had seen the expression before, and wondered what she might be hearing.

  “Why wouldn’t it work? It worked on Sam when I healed her the first time. And it seemed to work for the princess before it began to fade.”

  Marin sighed and lifted her staff, using it to push herself up. “What is happening to me—and the princess—will always fade unless you can counter the source.”

  “The source?”

  Now standing, she nodded and started toward the window, throwing back the curtains. “A shame this place has none of the protections it once did,” she said softly.

  “What source?” Alec asked.

  Marin looked at him. “The Book of Maladies.” She closed her eyes, tipping her head much the same way that Sam did. When she opened them, she nodded to the window. “You, Samara, are descended from the ancient Kavers. And it appears your apothecary friend is a Scribe.”

  “What does that mean?” Sam asked.

  “The combination is important. Together you are more potent than alone.”

  “Together?” Sam asked.

  Was that why it took both of their blood on the paper to have an effect?

  He didn’t have a chance to question. Marin tapped her staff on the ground, and said, “Now it’s time for us to go.”

  Alec heard footsteps outside the door and remembered the figure he’d seen coming up the stairs behind him. Would it be the men Sam called the brutes? Something worse? In this part of the city, he didn’t know what to expect.

  Sam grabbed him and tossed him toward the window.

  Marin stopped her. “No time. Scribe. What else can you do with that paper?”

  29

  Another Augmentation

  Sam’s heart raced as she watched Alec dip his finger into the blood from her palm again. He started writing, and she tried not to pay attention to the blood pooling in her palm. She just hoped it would be enough. If it was the brutes who approached, and if they were as powerful as the last time, she wouldn’t be strong enough.

  Marin stepped carefully to one of her shelves and reached behind it, pulling out two slender rods and tossing them to her.

  A canal staff.

  “What is this?”

  “That,” she said, holding up half of her own staff and reaching for the other ha
lf, “is a weapon, Samara. Perhaps our most traditional one at that. If your Scribe is successful, these can balance the strength differential.”

  Marin shot Alec a look, but he was busy writing.

  Sam wondered what he wrote that was different from what she’d tried when she had been trapped in the prison cell. Would it be enough? How long before it faded again?

  The door thundered as it splintered open.

  The massive form of one of the brutes filled the doorway. Marin jumped forward, her staff spinning, moving more quickly than Sam would have expected her capable given how sick she’d seemed only a few minutes before. Now it was as if she were completely healed. More than that, as if she were better than healed.

  Sam glanced at Alec. His head sagged forward, as if he were weakened.

  Did using the paper take something out of him?

  How could that be? Why would writing on the paper require both of them?

  Another brute appeared in the doorway. This still wasn’t the same one she’d fought in the university. That meant he was still out there, and likely directing these.

  Ralun. The main brute.

  A powerful Theln.

  Sam knew that he was. Would she be able to withstand another attack?

  Marin faced off with one of the attackers, her staff spinning quickly, hitting the brute with sickening smacks over and over again. The other brute held a sword in one hand and raised a crossbow with his other.

  Sam took a deep breath—hoping that Alec had managed to augment her again—and jumped forward to join the fight.

  Years spent leaping the canals had taught her to use the staff at its full length, but this was different. Within Marin’s home, there wasn’t the same amount of space to navigate, and she was left using the halves of the staff. At first, she fought with only one end, hitting the brute’s hand so he couldn’t use the crossbow on them, but realized after watching Marin that she could use both ends of the staff.

  As she fought, her steps felt light.

  That was the only way she could describe what she experienced. It wasn’t that she was quicker—though it seemed that she was—but that she moved as if there was no resistance. Each step flowed faster than she’d ever imagined moving, and the staff struck with more force than it should.

  The brute focused on her, blocking with both his sword and crossbow, but neither was able to stop her as she continued to fight. She spun, the staff catching his arm, then his wrist. It snapped, and he dropped the crossbow.

  Sam twisted around, moving as if in a dance, and she flicked the staff at him again, this time, catching his other arm, once, then again. The sword dipped, but she didn’t have the same effect that she’d had on the other side.

  She was slowing down.

  “It’s fading!” she called to Alec.

  “It will always fade, Samara,” Marin said far too calmly. “Your power is temporary, especially when using easar paper.”

  The brute smiled.

  She noticed the injured arm seemed to heal itself, the twisted arm mending the longer she faced him. How was it possible?

  How could he stay so strong—and even seem to heal himself—while her strength faded?

  She smacked him again with the staff, this time hitting his face, then sweeping toward his leg. She would have to do more than hurt him; to stop him completely, she’d have to kill him.

  The brute blocked her next attack, then her next. Sam’s strength and speed were disappearing, and with them, her advantage.

  Closing in on her, the brute caught the end of her staff in his fist and jerked.

  Sam went flying.

  As she rolled, she neared the dropped crossbow.

  In a fluid movement, she brought it up and fired.

  The bolt struck the man in the face, sinking through his eye and going completely through his skull, sticking into the wall with a sickening thunk.

  The brute fell.

  Sam shivered and scrambled to the fallen brute, trying not to think about how close she was to him. If she somehow hadn’t killed him, all it would take was for him to reach out for her, and he could grab her arm, or her neck, or…

  She pulled two crossbow bolts from the quiver at his waist and rolled away from him. Reloading the crossbow, she aimed it at the other brute, who now held Marin in a tight grip, practically crushing her.

  She fired.

  The bolt caught him in the shoulder.

  He released Marin, and she jumped back, swinging her staff around at the same time, catching him in the injured shoulder.

  Sam reloaded again and fired quickly. This time, she caught him in the other shoulder.

  “Just kill him already!” Marin said. She struck the brute again, this time hitting his face, then swung the staff up and around to crash between his legs.

  Sam reloaded a third time. Taking careful aim, she struck him in the stomach.

  The brute grunted, finally falling.

  Sam reloaded as quickly as she could and aimed the crossbow at him. “Where is he?” she demanded.

  The brute kicked, but there was none of the same force to it he’d had before. Sam easily dodged it.

  Marin swung her staff, catching him in the stomach, driving the newest bolt deeper. He grunted again as blood began pooling around him, staining the floor of Marin’s home.

  “Answer the question, Theln,” Marin said.

  “You can’t hope to survive. You took his prize from him. He knows you’re here, he smells you—”

  He cut off as Marin hit him again, this time on the side of his face.

  “Where. Is. He?” Marin emphasized each word with a smack against his legs.

  “He will find you, Kaver.”

  Marin glared at him for a moment, smacking him with her staff once more until his eyes rolled shut, before turning her attention to Sam. “It’s not Ralun we need to find. It’s the page from the book used to poison the princess. Without the book…”

  The book had hundreds of pages. “How will we know which page?” And why had the book been at the highborn house?

  “It will be marked in some way, different from the others. It signifies that it has been used.”

  Sam’s breath caught. The one she’d torn from the book had an extra marking that made it different from the others.

  “You won’t be able to save the princess until you find that page. It must be destroyed and then the Scribe can help her.”

  “Kyza,” Sam whispered.

  “You’ve seen it.”

  It was the page that Alec had used the very first time he’d healed her. But if that page was in the shop, wouldn’t it have been destroyed in the fire? “When I went back to the highborn house, I saw the book… and that page.” She went to Alec, leaving Marin standing over the brute with her staff ready to strike. “Alec?”

  He looked up at her, his eyes glazed. After blinking a few times, he managed to focus on her, though it wasn’t with as much clarity as he’d looked at her before. “Sam. Did it work?”

  “It worked,” she said, motioning to the two downed brutes. The one pinned to the ground still had his eyes closed but considering how quickly they healed, she didn’t expect it to last.

  “I should help him,” Alec said, starting to stand.

  “Help? Let the bastard die. He and the others tried killing us already.”

  “Samara!” Marin called to her.

  Sam glanced over, and saw Marin leaning on her staff, studying the brute. She looked weakened again, as if the effect of the healing that Alec had used on her had already begun to fade.

  “Alec, you have to heal Marin again,” she said, holding out her hand. There was still some slick blood there, but it had begun to clot.

  Alec nodded weakly and dipped his finger into the blood and started to write on the page.

  “No!” Marin said with more force than Sam would have expected from her. “The Scribe needs to maintain his strength, otherwise he cannot help you.”

  Sam looked from Mari
n to Alec. “You’re dying, Marin.”

  “Find the page. Destroy it. Then I’ll be better.”

  “Marin?”

  Marin managed to stand and swung her staff at the brute, catching him on the side of his face. He stopped moving. She turned toward Sam and calmly said, “There’s only one way to heal me—and the princess, from what you’ve told me. You need to find the missing page from the book, and you must destroy it. Do that, and I can recover. The princess can recover. Then we can regroup.” Marin approached Alec and leaned toward him. “You must do this, Scribe. Are you strong enough?”

  Alec nodded, the glaze to his eyes fading, and his strength seeming to return, as well. “I can do this.”

  “Good. Because more than you know depends upon it.”

  30

  Search For a Page From the Book

  Alec trailed Sam, watching as she held tightly to the long staff the dying woman had given her. Sam carried it as if she had always held it. They hurried from the woman’s home, leaving her sitting in the chair holding tightly to her own staff, with the loaded crossbow resting on her lap. Alec had wanted to try using the paper to help her, but Marin had refused, telling him he’d only weaken himself. He couldn’t deny the fact that he was tired, but that shouldn’t be from writing. Sam and Marin had been the ones doing the fighting, and Sam had been the one whose blood he’d used.

  Outside the building, he noted three bodies lying in one of the alleys they passed.

  “Sam,” he said, motioning to them.

  Sam paused, and they hurried into the alley. Alec went to each one and checked for a heartbeat. None of them had one. Two had their necks snapped violently, and the third had an arrow through his neck, reminding Alec of what Sam had needed to do in order to save them from the men she called brutes when they were with the princess, and again at the woman’s house.

  “Did you know them?”

  She nodded. “Bastan’s men, but why would he have sent them here?”

  “Who is Bastan?”

  Sam squeezed her eyes shut. “My boss. Maybe a friend. I don’t even know.”

  Alec wiped his hands on his pants and stood. “Where now?”