Voice of Command (The Spoken Mage Book 2)

by Melanie Cellier

  No one said anything else until the carriage rolled to a stop. We were deposited in front of a long building, larger than many we had seen and with a second story. Presumably the small southern campus of the Royal University where we were to stay. The top level was dorm rooms—our new home for the duration of our visit.

  Servants emerged to unpack our baggage, although far fewer than I would have expected under normal circumstances. The task would take them a while.

  In the meantime, we were all ushered into a large room on the ground floor, filled with familiar looking tables. A dining hall.

  No one but our group was here, despite a mouth-watering smell emanating from a side door. We sat together in our usual groupings, although here the individual tables were much longer than the ones at the Academy. Jasper, Clara, and Edmond joined us, as they had in the carriage, and the black-robed academic supervising their group took a seat beside Edmond, somewhat to my surprise.

  A moment later Beatrice took another seat at the table. Apparently here, unlike at the Academy, trainees and supervisors were to eat together. Perhaps no one wished to make extra work for the reduced number of servants.

  The food arrived, a delicious but spicy curry that left a burn in my mouth, and for a brief span there was only the sound of spoons scraping against bowls and murmurs of appreciation. But my thoughts kept returning to the interrupted conversation in the carriage.

  “So the healers may not be trying to cure the green fever, but they can treat people at least? Right? Save them from dying.”

  I directed my words at Finnian, but he hesitated, glancing at Beatrice.

  She put down her spoon and sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.

  “They’re doing their best,” she said. “The problem is that the only sure way we’ve found is to completely treat each separate symptom during the initial, weaker phase. The healers down here have worked out that if the patient can be completely cured that way, then the second phase doesn’t develop.”

  “That sounds good,” said Clara, but her voice suggested she knew a qualification was coming.

  “Yes and no,” said Beatrice. “Too many are coming down with the disease. Far more than the healers can treat at the early stage. Not without burning themselves completely dry, which would help nobody. We’ve already sent down most of the stored compositions we had in the north for fever, muscle aches, and vomiting, but it’s still nowhere near enough.”

  She paused. “What they need is a way to work out who will be able to fight it off on their own, and who will start vomiting blood. Then we could treat only those who need it at the early stage. Because by the time they show the signs that they’re not going to make it, it’s already too late. We don’t know enough about what internal systems the disease is destroying at that second stage, and only a very great expenditure of power, broadly applied, could save them once they get there.”

  Realization shot through me.

  “That’s why you’re here. To develop some simple way to test the patients.”

  Beatrice paused for a brief second and then nodded. “That is the task assigned to Reese and me. We have been expressly forbidden from doing any direct healings. Unless one of you should fall sick and need us, of course.”

  She looked sad, and I remembered the concern on her face when she held Sara’s newborn in her arms back in Kingslee. Beatrice was a rare being—a mage with true compassion for everyone, regardless of their birth. I could only imagine how such a stricture would grate against her in a situation like this. But what she had come here to do was important. It would save many lives in the long run.

  I immediately resolved to do what she could not. I would find a way to heal some of the ill—even if only a handful. I hadn’t been forbidden to do so, and if I could save even a few lives, it would be worth it.

  Chapter 11

  Our rooms were more basic than at the Academy, but we each had one to ourselves. At first it made me a little queasy, wondering if the usual occupants of the rooms were now lying in one of the white tents—or worse. But a moment’s reflection reminded me that the students must be mages, as they were at the main University campus in Corrin.

  Conversation over the meal the next morning confirmed it. The majority of the students had fled Abalene at the first sign of the infection spreading into the city.

  While I didn’t wish them dead, such cowardice disgusted me. I had been mulling over Beatrice’s explanation, and it had occurred to me that while some parts of the healing situation were complex, other parts were actually simple. Second year simple, even.

  Acacia came down the long tables, stopping at each trainee and student to inquire about their well-being.

  “If you get a single symptom, I want to know about it,” she said to us. “So much as a twinge in your back, and you come straight to me.” She gave us all a stern look. “Understand?”

  We all nodded obediently. She had reached us last, so she turned to leave the room, but I called after her, gesturing to an empty seat beside me. She gave me a wary look but slid into it without protest.

  “I’ve been thinking,” I said.

  “Why do I have the feeling we should all be afraid?” asked Finnian.

  Jasper, sitting two seats down, leaned forward to give my year mate a cold look. I shook my head at them both. It was sweet of my brother, but he would soon get used to Finnian’s joking ways.

  “We’re here to learn, right?” I said to Acacia. “About healing. And surely that should mean practicing.”

  Acacia raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

  “Well, I know we don’t have the skill or training to help with Beatrice’s task.”

  Acacia gave me a questioning look, and I shrugged.

  “She told us about it last night. Obviously we can’t help her. And I don’t think there’s much any of us could do for someone in this new second stage of the fever. But Beatrice said that the best chance of treatment is in the first stage anyway. But that each of the symptoms has to be fully healed separately and completely, and the healers’ stores of the necessary compositions have been depleted.”

  Acacia nodded slowly, as if reluctant to agree to my logic. Finnian on the other hand had fixed me with a look of dawning interest, clearly seeing where I was going.

  I shrugged again and tried to keep my voice cool.

  “It just occurred to me that compositions for things like healing basic fevers, aches and pains, and vomiting are probably within most of our capabilities. Or they’re simple enough that we could learn them, anyway.”

  Acacia shifted uneasily. “The Academy sent you here to observe and learn, not to help heal. None of you are healers.”

  “But we’re healing students,” said Finnian, leaning forward across the tables. “Elena is right. It would be a good lesson. And then, of course, we would need to practice.” He winked at me, and I grinned back at him.

  “I don’t know…” Acacia frowned.

  I lowered my voice. “I know you want to help. That’s why you came. Not to babysit us. Well, here’s how you can help. If you teach us, we can produce far more compositions than you could on your own. Even if we can all manage only one of each type per day, that’s twelve people who could be saved. Surely that’s worth it?”

  “Thirteen,” said Edmond from next to Coralie. “I did two years of healing studies at the Academy and got a fair bit of practice on the front lines. I’m a bit rusty these days, but I’m sure it would come back to me fast enough. One of each type of composition a day shouldn’t flatten me or prevent me pursuing my own studies.”

  Coralie beamed at him, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he truly wanted to help or was just trying to impress her. Either way I would take it.

  “Well…” Acacia looked into the distance while I held my breath. “I suppose we could spend today learning about the necessary compositions. We’ll have plenty of time to study the logistics of epidemic management the rest of the week.”

  I didn’t t
ry to hold back my grin. “Thank you, Acacia.”

  She sighed and stood to her feet. “Just don’t make me regret it. Let the other second years know, and any of the University students who wish to join us. We’ll meet in an hour in Lecture Room 4.”

  I watched her leave the room and then turned back to find the others all staring at me.

  “Why are you looking at me?”

  “You heard her,” said Coralie. “She wants you to tell the others.”

  “Oh no.” I held up both hands. “Not a chance. I’m sure you can all imagine how that would go down. Finnian, you can do it. They’re more inclined to keep their claws sheathed with you.”

  Coralie rolled her eyes, but she didn’t actually protest. Edmond beside her continued to regard me with interest until his eyes suddenly flicked to my brother. Given he studied with Jasper and Clara, he no doubt knew exactly the sort of dynamic I was referring to.

  “Well, go on, Finn,” said Saffron. “Let them know so we can get out of here.”

  Finnian heaved a dramatic sigh but stood to his feet.

  “You owe me for this, Elena.”

  “You wish,” I said, as he meandered away.

  I watched his progress at the other tables as he stopped to chat with each cluster of people. But mostly I tried not to look at Lucas. It had been three days now since our last disastrous training session, and we hadn’t exchanged a single word.

  What would he think of what I had done? Would he disapprove of important mages expending their energy to heal common folk? Did he see this whole trip as wasted time from his quest to weaponize my ability and defeat Kallorway?

  I had challenged him in our last conversation. Told him people were dying and asked what his family was doing about it. Well people were dying here, too, so now was his chance to show me his true colors.

  I studied his face as Finnian spoke to him and the group around him. As usual, it gave little away. Once his eyes flicked to me, and I looked quickly back at my food, fighting a flush at being caught staring. But when I risked another peek, he had focused back on Finnian.

  “What?” Natalya’s screech came clearly across the room, although I hadn’t been able to hear Finnian’s words. “They want us to drain ourselves on endless healing compositions? The same ones over and over?”

  Finnian’s own voice carried more loudly this time, although it held none of her heat. “Well, repetition is a time-honored method of learning. I’m sure next time you get a back ache, you’ll appreciate the expertise.”

  “I’m not seventy, Finnian. I don’t get back aches.” She glared at him.

  He just shrugged. “Then you must be in a different combat class from me.”

  She flushed and looked away, scanning her friends for signs of support.

  Her twin, Calix, gave an exaggerated sigh. “It seems half the Academy is going soft. But I, for one, am not going to fail second year over a few compositions for fever.”

  “Indeed.” Lucas sounded bored. “And I can’t imagine myself drained by three minor compositions.”

  Natalya flushed again, pushing to her feet. She directed her glare at Finnian. “Fine. We’ll be there. But only because we don’t want to fail.”

  She dragged Lavinia to her feet, and the two of them hurried from the room, heads close as they whispered furiously.

  Calix stretched slowly to his feet and yawned.

  “I guess I’ll be seeing you in lessons.” He nodded at Weston, Lucas, and Finnian, and then strolled after his sister.

  Weston rolled his eyes. “I can’t see the value in bringing us out here just to lock us in a room to study composition. Surely we could have done that back in Corrin.”

  When neither of the others said anything, he shrugged. “I suppose I can extend my stamina as well here as anywhere else.” And he, too, left the room.

  “It’s truly touching to see how much they all care,” I muttered.

  “You were expecting something else?” Jasper gave me a warning look, his eyes reminding me who it was we were dealing with.

  I sighed. He was right, of course, but that didn’t stop the sting. And it was different for him. Despite his studies, he could still regard them as other. Still disdain them as we had always done.

  But I had become one of them. Of sorts. And I couldn’t help wanting them to be different—better. To be a group that I could be proud to be a part of.

  As the rest of the room trickled out, I moved slowly, my earlier pleasure somewhat soured.

  “An interesting idea, Elena.”

  I froze, giving myself a moment before twisting to face Lucas. I glanced at Finnian’s retreating back as I did so, but Lucas shook his head.

  “Finnian didn’t have to mention your name for me to know where this idea came from.”

  I raised my chin defiantly. “If you ask me, every mage in the kingdom should already have been asked to do it. It’s not like they would need to be here personally.” I pursed my lips. “They don’t have my limitations.”

  Lucas regarded me with narrowed eyes. “Yes, you won’t be able to do much good with this plan.”

  “Wow, thank you for that.”

  He sighed. “I just meant don’t do anything stupid.”

  I couldn’t help a slight smile at that. “It never occurs to me it might be stupid until afterward, I’m afraid.”

  “Yes, that’s what I’m afraid of, too.”

  Silence fell as I realized we were the last two in the room.

  “It is an interesting idea, though,” he said. “You might even be right about getting other mages involved. But…”

  I gave him a long moment before prompting him. “But?”

  He ran a hand through his hair, the locks somehow falling back into their ordered perfection.

  “That’s not how we work. Not how we’re used to working.”

  “You mean mages aren’t used to being expected to expend their precious energy unless it benefits them somehow.”

  He grimaced. “That’s one way of looking at it.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “And what’s another way?”

  His eyes grew distant. “You’ve only experienced the Academy, where mages are prepared not only for life but also for the front lines. We learn broadly across disciplines, so that new mages will have at least a basic understanding of everything they may need for the future. But after the Academy, we become locked into disciplines. A wind worker may know how to fix their own child’s fever or relieve the ache in their back after a day on their feet, but they would no more be expected to provide a healing composition for the healers, than a healer would be expected to assist in dissipating a hurricane or bringing rain to a drought-stricken region. It’s not how we do things.”

  “So change how you do things, then. This is an extraordinary situation, it’s not like you’re asking them to take a shift at a healing clinic.”

  He sighed. “It’s not that simple.”

  I shook my head. “What’s the point of having a king if he can’t change things? Surely you of all people can bring change.”

  “It’s just not that simple.”

  This time I was the one to sigh. “No, I don’t suppose it is. Not when you’ve let yourselves go for generations, becoming more and more ingrained in your insular and self-focused attitude. The real wonder is that there’s anyone like Coralie and Finnian and Acacia left.”

  Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Don’t hold back, Elena. Tell me how you really feel about us.”

  One side of my mouth quirked up despite myself. “Haven’t you noticed? Holding back isn’t exactly a strength of mine.”

  He regarded me for a long moment.

  “You can try to change the world, Elena. I’ll wish you luck, even. Just don’t be stupid about it.”

  “No promises,” I said before striding out of the room.

  I struggled to focus on Acacia’s instruction, still fuming over Lucas’s attitude. He might be better than Natalya and her lot, but it wasn’t enough. He h
ad the power to bring change, and not opposing it wasn’t the same as supporting it.

  It took the whole day, but by the time we broke for the evening meal, everyone had managed to produce one composition to heal fever, one to heal aches and pains, and one to prevent nausea and vomiting. Everyone except me, of course.

  Acacia checked them all thoroughly to ensure they were of a sufficient level to heal the first stage of green fever, and then collected them into her colored pouches. As she left the room, following the majority of the students who had rushed toward the dining room, she paused beside me.

  “These are thanks to you, Elena. Don’t think you’re not contributing.”

  I smiled at her, grateful for the thought, but it didn’t take away the sting. I had listened and memorized the relevant words, but I hadn’t even been able to practice. It galled me to see my exhausted year mates so eager for their food, while I sat here full of energy with no way to usefully expend it.

  The next morning Acacia announced we would compose for the morning only. After lunch we would be venturing out into the city.

  “Remain aware of your energy levels, and don’t push yourself too hard. I don’t want you out in the city if you’re run down and depleted. If that means only producing one composition, so be it.”

  I sat back and watched my year mates. Edmond easily completed the three compositions, as did Dariela and Lucas. Weston and Calix both completed two before exchanging a look and sitting back. I suspected they lacked the will rather than the capacity to go on.

  Natalya and Lavinia both completed only one, along with Araminta. But Clarence and Saffron each managed two, and in their case it seemed to be a legitimate reflection of their capacity.

  Coralie and Finnian both completed the three, Coralie casting a defiant look at Acacia’s back. Sudden fear gripped me, and I resolved to watch both of them closely for the least sign of infection. This had all been my idea, and I didn’t want to see either of them come down with green fever because they had pushed themselves too hard during the morning.

  As soon as the midday meal was completed, Acacia gathered us all together.