Alec reached for her hand and uncurled her fingers. The tips of each finger were stained a light red, almost pink.
“This staining…”
His father nodded. “Good. You did find it.”
“You knew?”
“I saw the fingers when you first brought her in. The contracture is worrisome because it typically implies that there is something wrong with her nerves. Then you look inside her mouth, and…”
“The same staining.”
“Yes. The same staining.”
Alec frowned. He had seen something like this before, and relatively recently.
His breath caught. With the cracked hands, this reminded him of the woman he had seen at the university, the one they’d diagnosed as having been poisoned by either the ingestion of berries or a snake bite. Alec had seen the puncture wounds indicating a snake bite, but with Mrs. Rubbles, he doubted that she would have been bitten by a snake. That just didn’t fit with what he knew of her.
But berries… That was possible. She often would collect berries, especially when she went looking for new ways of mixing inks.
“I know what this is,” Alec said.
“Yes?”
“Anrastic berries.”
His father frowned. “It would fit with the pattern, but it would be unfortunate if true.”
“Because there isn’t a treatment,” Alec said, looking up at his father.
His father shook his head. “Unfortunately, yes. There are things we can do, but if she’s already in this state, it might be too late for her.”
Alec stared at Mrs. Rubbles. In this condition, she seemed peaceful, almost relaxed, and that made it all the worse for him. She had been like a mother to him and had been the one to help him through the attack on the apothecary.
“There has to be something we can do,” he said to his father.
“There is no known cure, not for this type of ingestion. I’m sorry, Alec, but—”
“But there is,” Alec said. He knew he could save her, as he had saved the woman in the hospital ward, but it meant using the easar paper and the remaining ink that he had placed into vials. Would it be enough to help her?
Then again, would it work without knowing the treatment?
He wasn’t certain whether there was any correlation between a known treatment and the ability for the easar paper to be effective. If there was, and if he had to know a real treatment in order for the easar paper to work, then it might not matter. There might not be anything that he could do.
“Alec—”
Alec shook his head. “Father, for Mrs. Rubbles, I’m going to try this.” He pulled the easar paper and ink from his pocket.
“I don’t know that this is the purpose for your gifts.”
Alec stared at Mrs. Rubbles. If it wasn’t to help someone he cared about, then what was the purpose of his gift? This was what he had been arguing with Sam about. She wanted to work only on augmentations, and he had wanted to find another use, why wouldn’t they be able to use the paper for healing?
His father began to work on Mrs. Rubbles, and Alec reached into his satchel, pulling out the remaining slip of easar paper. They didn’t have much remaining, and what he did have was heavily written upon, almost so much that there wasn’t a square of clear space for him to work. Would it be enough?
Even if it wasn’t, he had to try. He had never tried writing over one of his other augmentations, but in this case, he didn’t think he wanted to try that. If he did, and if it somehow compromised what he needed to do for Mrs. Rubbles, then it might cause more problems for her.
Alec moved out of the way, shifting to a table near the back of the shop. Mostly, he went so that he could get out of his father’s way. He looked for some blank space on the paper and found a tiny section—barely enough for him to use, and all they had left. It would have to work.
He checked in his satchel for the vial of premixed blood ink. There should be enough for him to blend for this healing, but not much more than that. She would know he was using it, but would she care? He couldn’t concern himself with that now. This was something he had to try.
He used a pin to prick his finger, letting a small amount of his own blood drip into the vial holding Sam’s blood. He shook it quickly and then dipped the pen in, preparing to write.
Anrastic berry toxicity. Need antitoxin. Would add fessel leaf for vitality and caffin for alertness.
That last, he’d only recently learned in the lectures. It was simple, but it was all that he had space for on the paper. Alec waited for the ink to dry before sliding the page back into his satchel.
Would it even work?
Maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe it was already too late for him to help, but maybe not.
Alec joined his father at Mrs. Rubbles’s side. He had taken a seat in a chair next to the cot and was holding her hand. Alec had seen his father doing something similar with many other people over the years, but it was heartbreaking to watch him sitting next to Mrs. Rubbles.
“I didn’t ever think that Marcella would go like this.”
“She doesn’t have to,” Alec said.
“There aren’t many treatments for this toxicity, Alec. Even if I had the benefit of using the university, there wouldn’t be much I would be able to do.”
“I tried,” Alec said.
“You tried what?”
“I tried to help her,” Alec said.
His father’s gaze drifted to the satchel. “Oh, Alec, I don’t know that that was wise of you to do.”
“Why not? This is for Mrs. Rubbles. Why shouldn’t I do anything I can to help her?”
“Because…”
Mrs. Rubbles began to stir. She coughed, and her eyes flickered open.
“Aelus?”
He squeezed her hand and touched her hair. “Marcella. Just relax.”
“How am I in your store?”
“You were sick, and Alec found you and brought you here.”
“That Alec. He is such a good boy.”
His father kept his gaze on Mrs. Rubbles. “He is.”
“I know how proud you are that he has gone to the university. I know how much you wanted him to take after you.”
“I only wanted him to be happy,” his father said.
“And he will be. When he takes after you, how can he not be happy?”
His father smiled.
Alec took a step back, letting his father and Mrs. Rubbles have that moment together. He wasn’t certain he should be involved, especially since he didn’t entirely know what more he could say, or how to explain what he’d done. Yet he couldn’t deny the fact that he felt a hint of pride. How could he not, especially when he had helped? How could he not when he had made a difference?
Would Sam understand?
That was the question, wasn’t it? It seemed Sam only wanted for the two of them to work together, and to continue placing augmentations. But the more Alec learned about how their gifts could heal, the more confident he felt that there was a higher purpose for them.
And yet, without a supply of the paper, he wasn’t sure they could do anything.
When Alec reached the front door, his father joined him, placing his hand on his shoulder. “Thank you,” he said.
“I care for her, too.”
“I know you do. Don’t rely on this gift of yours. Use your mind. That’s the greatest gift that you have.”
“I won’t depend on using only the paper,” Alec said. He glanced past his father to where Mrs. Rubbles lay. “Find out where she was looking for berries. Make sure that no one else gets into them.”
His father nodded. “Normally, I’d be the one telling you to do that.”
“I can’t do that if I’m at the university.”
“No. I suppose you can’t.” His father squeezed his shoulder. “She’s telling the truth, you know.”
“About what?”
“About me. About you. I am proud of you. You have worked incredibly hard, and you deserve this
opportunity.”
“Thank you.”
“Keep working. The university rewards those who work hard. And I know that you will.”
Alec left his father’s shop, wondering if that was true, or whether he would be continually harassed because he was the son of an apothecary. And maybe it didn’t matter. He was at the university now, and he could continue his work, and could continue learning. In time, he would be a physicker.
27
Opportunity to Impress
The hospital ward was well lit, and Alec looked at each person in the room. There was a slight odor to the air, and he detected rot. It was awful, and it hadn’t been present the day before when he’d been here. He wrinkled his nose, wishing he had something to mask the smell, but there wasn’t anything.
Abigail glanced over at him. “Why do you keep making that face?”
“Don’t you smell it?”
“I smell you,” she said. “I figured that was just the stink of a lowborn.” She smiled as she said it.
“I’m not lowborn,” he said. As he said it, he realized that he had spoken too quickly.
Was that what he was? Was that the person he had become? He had never intended to be so caught up in distinctions between classes and had been telling the truth when Sam had asked whether he cared about highborn versus lowborn. Alec never had cared; it had never mattered to him. His father made it clear that it shouldn’t matter. He had made it clear that all people should be cared for regardless of whether they came from one of the central sections or one of the outer sections. Most of the time, they came from a more peripheral section, making it a moot point about whether he treated those with money first.
“I’m only kidding you,” she said. “But what is it that you smell?”
“I don’t know. There’s a hint of rot.”
“Very good, Mr. Stross.”
Alec looked up and realized that the master physicker instructing them had walked past as Alec was speaking to Abigail. This was Master Eckerd again, the same physicker that had worked with him before. At least with Master Eckerd, Alec didn’t have the sense that the physicker disliked him completely.
“We are here today to look at infection,” Master Eckerd said. He guided the group of students to a cot near the back wall. As they approached, the smell became even more prevalent, a foulness that permeated the air. One of the students gagged as they approached.
“It’s not easy to get accustomed to this smell, but over time, you can learn to ignore it.”
“How can you ignore this?” This came from one of the highborns. He was younger than Alec by at least two years, and he wore expensive clothing, including a gold necklace that dangled outside of his jacket. Alec never wore jewelry, knowing that it was all too easy for it to get fouled up with any number of disgusting things he might come into contact with when healing.
“As I said, it’s not easy, but you can learn to ignore it.” Master Eckerd pulled the sheets back, exposing a massive ulcerating wound on the person’s leg. The center of it was blackened, and red streaks worked outward. A purulent wound soaked through the sheet that had been used to cover him. “What can you tell me about this infection?”
Most of the students were turning away, but Alec stepped forward. After seeing Master Eckerd in the library, he wanted to know more about the man. What was he hiding? Maybe there was nothing, but maybe he knew something about easar paper. Could there be other Scribes at the university?
If there was easar paper, maybe they could find another supply.
Sam would want to know.
He pushed all of those thoughts out of his mind. He had to as he focused on the patient. The wound was foul, but Alec had seen worse. It was not uncommon for people to reach his father after trying many other things, most of them useless. Something like this at least had a chance for treatment.
“If it’s left too long, the leg may need to be taken off,” Alec said. “The infection is already starting to spread up toward the knee, which, if it passes beyond the joint, will become a much more severe condition.”
Master Eckerd nodded. “That is correct, Mr. Stross. And why is that?”
“It can set up in the joint. From there, sometimes the infection spreads, and even with appropriate treatment, there isn’t much that can be done for it.”
“There probably isn’t much that can be done for the man now,” Arnold said. He was also highborn, and pudgy, with a perpetual sneer on his face. “Why waste time on something like this that can’t even be treated?”
Master Eckerd shot him a look. “You would give up so soon, Mr. Jameis?”
Arnold shrugged. “It’s not a matter of giving up. It’s knowing that there are limited resources.” He looked around the hospital ward. “Look at all these other people who need help.”
“Yes, look at them. Most of them have junior physickers working with them, so they are well cared for, for now. This man needs—”
“Debridement,” Alec said softly.
“That is correct, Mr. Stross. An infection like this will only heal once the infected tissue is removed. It is a delicate procedure, not quite as delicate as some surgeries that are done, but it requires a deft touch. Now, if you would all step back?”
As one, the students took a step back.
“Mr. Stross?”
Alec could’ve moved back with the other students, but he stepped forward, nodding.
“In that you don’t seem to be as offended as some of the students, would you care to assist?”
Alec resisted the urge to look around. He disliked being called out, but at the same time, he felt vindicated that he was being asked to assist. It wasn’t surgery—he had never been allowed in surgery, and from what he understood, students rarely were—but it was something he could help with.
“Have you ever participated in a debridement?” Master Eckerd asked as Alec approached the table.
“Only a few,” he said. “My father either did most of them or sent the patient on to the university.”
“Your father would send patients here?”
Alec nodded. “If there were things that he didn’t feel comfortable managing, he would send them here. Sometimes…”
“Sometimes what?”
Alec flushed. “Sometimes, he would send them with enough money to purchase the healing necessary.”
Master Eckerd looked at Alec for a moment before nodding. He lifted a sharp knife and began to cut away at the infection, peeling back the blackened tissue, revealing red and irritated tissue beneath. As he did, Alec knew to take a clean cloth and press down, putting pressure on the exposed area so it didn’t bleed too much. He wiped away the drainage, much the same way he would have when helping his father.
Master Eckerd had a steady hand, much steadier than his father’s, and made quick work of it. “And what would you do to treat the tissue now?”
Alec looked at the exposed wound. There was quite a bit of raw and irritated flesh. “I would suggest an ointment. Perhaps silvast to avoid infection. Lysanth root mixed with belder leaves to speed the healing process. Something like that.”
He flushed as he said it, wondering if perhaps he was wrong.
Master Eckerd nodded. “Those would be a reasonable choice. Why don’t you collect the supplies and apply your ointment?”
Alec hurried off, disappearing into the back of the hospital ward, casting a glance over his shoulder briefly, long enough to see Abigail watching him as he went. A few of the other students watched, but most of them kept their attention on Master Eckerd, rather than on Alec. Master Eckerd was speaking to them, and he wished he was still there, able to listen, but this was better, wasn’t it? At least this way, he was getting attention from Master Eckerd, and hopefully, he could use that attention to his advantage.
He had only been to the storeroom in the ward one other time. It was during a tour of the school when he first was shown around, never on his own. The fact that Master Eckerd had him go on his own now was either a reward
or a test. Alec didn’t know which.
He opened the door into the storage room and was greeted by rows of shelves. It was nothing like his father’s apothecary, which was all neatly laid out and labeled. Things here were crammed in close together, and the labels weren’t always legible. Had Alec not spent the last decade with his father helping him catalog and organize everything that he kept stored in the apothecary, he might not have known what some of them were. Even with that knowledge, he still couldn’t identify everything here.
Most of the items he was looking for were fairly straightforward. He found the silvast first. It was a silvery-looking paste, and it came from snail slime, something that he couldn’t imagine someone ever having decided might be anti-infectious. He grabbed that and put it in his pocket. The lysanth root was a little harder to find, but he found it on a high shelf, along with a few other roots, this one mislabeled. The last was the belder leaves, and it took him a bit longer to find them. Not because they were mislabeled, but because they were stuffed behind other containers.
The lack of organization here annoyed him. How many times would somebody have come unable to find what they were looking for, delaying the care of a patient?
Alec decided to come back later. Maybe he could organize the shelves, if nothing else. For now, he needed to get back to Master Eckerd and the patient.
When he returned, Master Eckerd was waiting, the rest of the students silent and each taking a turn looking at the wound that had been debrided. Alec set down the ingredients, and Master Eckerd nodded.
He wanted Alec to compound the paste.
He worked quickly, using the bowl that was set aside for it, and using the technique his father had long ago taught him. It was an easy concoction and came together quickly. When he was done, he held it out to Master Eckerd who shook his head.
“You have concocted it, you should be the one to apply it.”
Alec took a dollop of the ointment and gently smeared it onto the wound. He worked with a practiced hand, though perhaps not quite as steady as Master Eckerd’s, and when he was finished, he took a bandage and dressed the wound.
The Book of Maladies Boxset Page 45