The Book of Maladies Boxset

by D. K. Holmberg

  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 did
n’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.

  “It’s okay, Samara.”

  Tray never called her by her full name. “What’s okay, Trayson?”

  He grinned at her. “You don’t have to stay here. If something’s happening near the palace, and you have access, you should go.”

  “I can’t bring you to the other side.”

  “I know. I’ll see what else I can find here, and you go and make sure Marin isn’t doing anything dangerous near the palace.”

  Sam gave Tray a hug. He stiffened as she did, then relaxed slightly. “Thank you.”

  “All I’ve ever wanted was to help you,” Tray said.

  “And all I’ve ever wanted was to keep you out of trouble. Kyza! I went to jail to try to get you free.”

  Tray grinned. “That wasn’t necessary, you know.”

  “I know that now. At the time…” She hugged him again.

  When she released him, she ran toward the bridge, reaching for her documentation. She glanced back, noting that Tray simply stood there watching her. She wasn’t sure what he would do, or where he would go. Whatever Marin was after involved the canals, but what?

  She was granted quick access to the other side, and ran across the bridge, scanning the palace grounds, but found nothing. What did she expect? Marin had skill and cunning. Would Sam even be able to detect her presence?

  Had she made a mistake?

  Sam ran back toward the canal, this time to the east. As she approached it, she saw fighting on the bridge. She’d come across a different bridge—three bridges connected the palace to the other sections of the city—but if there was fighting on this one, what might be taking place on the others?

  There were two massive men on the bridge facing the soldiers.

  Thelns.

  The commotion drew other soldiers out from the palace, and they raced toward the bridge. Sam got out of the way, not needing to get involved in a battle. The men were trained for that. She was able to use her staff, but this was a more open conflict.

  Too late, she felt a buildup of heat.

  “No!”

  The bridge exploded. Chunks of stone went flying, and she ducked to avoid one striking her on the head.

  Dust and debris scattered, and the bridge collapsed into the canal with a rumble and an enormous splash of water.

  Another explosion struck, this time from the north side of the section. Sam didn’t need to see it to know that another bridge had collapsed.

  That left one bridge.

  She ran, sprinting toward it.

  She would be too late—she knew she would—but if she could stop the explosion… How? What could she do that would stop the explosion?

  She reached the bridge and wasn’t surprised that it was the same one she had just crossed. Guards ran along the bridge, filling it. She spotted a single man on the opposite shore. He was enormous, looming against the night, and fought against three Thelns of the same size.

  Tray.

  What was her brother doing?

  As Sam watched, she saw someone flipping toward him, a canal staff spinning.

  It was Marin.

  If Marin got to Tray, he might give up the fight, he might allow those men to cross the bridge and blow it up as the others had been destroyed.

  There were too many people on the bridge for her to pass.

  That meant having to jump to cross the canal, but she’d never jumped that far. Even when she’d trained, even when she had been practicing, she had never managed such a distance.

  It wasn’t possible. Not without an augmentation, and Alec was at the university, trying to get help from the masters.

  She watched helplessly as Marin got closer. Within moments, she would be there, reach Tray, and Sam didn’t have to imagine how that would go. Marin would convince him of what she was doing, and Tray would stop fighting.

  One of the Thelns fell, leaving Tray facing two.

  Sam had to reach the other side. She had to help.

  Could she jump?

  Elaine had proven that it was possible and had shown that without an augmentation, a Kaver could leap even the widest canal, but Sam didn’t have that ability. Or if she did, it was locked in her mind, trapped there when Marin erased who she was and who she could have been.

  Sam had to try. She didn’t like her chances, but she was willing to do her best. If she failed, what was the worst thing that could happen? She’d splash into the water, and not for the first time. She thought of the eels, but was there something worse? She didn’t know what Marin had placed in the water, but if Tray had been working with it, it couldn’t be fatal.

  Marin neared Tray.

  Sam took a few steps back, then sprinted, jumping into the air and plunging her staff to the bottom of the canal.

  The jump wasn’t far enough.

  She pressed off, the staff flexing, forcing her up, and she flipped, swinging her staff back around, hoping to complete enough of a rotation that she could reach the other side.

  She started to come around and felt herself going too far, so she quickly plunged the staff down, using the energy of her rotation to send her up, and all the way across.

  It was a double jump, one that she’d never attempted before, and when she landed in a roll, she felt her heart pounding wildly as she looked back across the canal, amazed at the distant she’d just cleared.

  She didn’t gaze for too long.

  Not hesitating, Sam threw herself forward.

  Her staff smacked into one of the Thelns, knocking him down. The distraction was enough to give Tray an opening, and he dropped the other.

  Sam didn’t have the time to marvel at what she’d done.

  Marin reached her.

  As she did, Sam knew that she wouldn’t be fast enough—she couldn’t be fast enough—without augmentations. Marin moved quickly—too quickly.

  She was augmented.

  “You shouldn’t have come back here,” Marin said.

  “What choice did I have?” Sam asked.

  “There’s always a choice. And you made the wrong one.”

  Marin lunged at her, and Sam knew she wasn’t going to be able to stop her.

  36

  The Plan

  They reached the canal, and Alec was breathing hard. He clutched his satchel against his side, afraid of losing it. Beckah had tolerated the run more easily, as did Master Eckerd. Neither seemed to be panting quite as much as Alec was.

  As they turned to head down toward one of the bridges, thunder rumbled. “A storm?” Alec said.

  “Not a storm,” Master Eckerd said, pointing down the canal. Alec looked and saw the bridge collapsing into the canal. Dust from the explosion filled the air, and there was a strange energy there, as well, one that he’d felt before, and recognized.

  Was it Thelns?

  He had thought they wouldn’t be able to reach this far into the city, but the explosion, and the power he detected, had traits of the Thelns.

  “Where are they?” He asked the question mostly to himself, but Beckah answered anyway.

  “I don’t see anyone here,” she said.

  Another explosion thundered, and Alec’s breath caught as it did.

  That left one bridge leading to the palace side. All of them seemed to wait, the air within the city—in this section of it—still, as if the city itself seemed to wait for what happened next.

  Nothing came.

  “By the gods!”
Master Eckerd said.

  “What about the third bridge?” Beckah asked.

  “It’s not the bridge,” Eckerd said. “Look.”

  Rather than pointing toward the bridges connecting the palace section to the others, he pointed toward the water. Alec stared, trying to make sense of what would have drawn the master’s attention, and realized that it was something in the water.

  Alec crept closer, not wanting to get too close to the edge, and saw leaves floating there. “Are those—”

  Eckerd sniffed. “Foxglove.”

  “Why would they want to put foxglove in the canals? Diluted like that, it wouldn’t have much of an effect on anyone in the city, even if they were to drink it.” Alec looked to Eckerd, whose face had gone ashen. “It’s not about the supply of drinking water, is it?”

  Eckerd shook his head. “It’s harvest time, and we’ve had our suppliers collecting all of it.”

  “Suppliers?”

  “Foxglove is incredibly difficult to grow in this climate. And we pay a hefty premium to all who collect it.”

  “That’s what money from the university goes toward?” Alec asked.

  “There are many purposes for the money the university collects.”

  “Why foxglove?”

  “You aren’t far enough along in your studies to hear the answer to that,” Master Eckerd said.

  “I think we’ve shown that we are a part of this,” he said.

  Eckerd sighed. “The city was originally designed as a haven for those with Scribe and Kaver abilities. It was designed that way to ensure certain protections from those who would cause harm.”

  “How could it be designed…” Alec looked to the canals. “The water?”

  Master Eckerd nodded. “The greatest canvas ever attempted. Those ancient Scribes used the canals to create an augmentation for the city itself, one that provides protection to all of those within it and excludes the Thelns.”

  “But it hasn’t excluded the Thelns,” Alec said.

  “It has, until recently. Something has changed. There has been activity, an intentional attempt to bypass the protections placed upon the city.”