He’d found other books hidden amongst the shelves; greedy students who didn’t want to share the popular textbooks had learned to hide them in the rarely used sections of the library. Ash couldn’t help but despise them; what if someone had hidden the very book he needed to learn about the Faceless Monks?
But this one time he was glad; he’d tried many times to get a copy of the advanced textbook, but it was forbidden to students who weren’t in the class. Now finally he had a chance.
In basic magic class he was starting to see Braydon’s point; he’d mastered heat to light weeks ago and yet the rest of the class were only just wrapping their heads around it, while others, like Loren, would probably never fully understand. He’d been itching to move on, to kinetic channeling, magnetic channeling, and so many other options, but Thimble refused until most of the class had mastered light. And so he and Braydon and some others were left for hours to practice what they’d already learned.
Ash licked his lips as he opened the book to the first page. An intricate ink drawing of a man with strings of power stretching from his fingers surrounded a decorated box listing the basic rules of magic. Ash skipped past without bothering to reread them.
He flicked through and stopped at a random chapter. Channeling Across Distance.
He smiled; he’d never considered channeling at a distance, but if it was all just energy flow… He read down the first paragraph:
“… Energy transfer depends on similarity. The more similar two items are, the easier it is to channel energy between them. However, making of twin objects is forbidden, in accordance with proclamation one from the beginning of the Second Age. Therefore, objects that are almost the same except for a small detail are used for distance channeling. Energy is lost with distance; so long distances require exceptional concentration and energy…”
Ash kept reading, committing as much of the book to memory as he could. There was no reason he couldn’t try any of it himself, although Thimble probably wouldn’t be too happy; then again, it was her fault for dragging the class out so long. He had enough skill that nothing bad could actually happen.
He bit his lip and tapped a finger on the book. He’d never be able to smuggle it out of the library. He’d seen a student try that once; as soon as he stepped through the door to the entrance hall his whole body froze. The wizened librarian at the desk had come over and searched him, finding the stolen book hidden in the boy’s jacket. The poor student had been thrown out and banned for life. There was no way Ash would risk.
Instead, he put it back on the dusty shelf, hidden behind a dull volume entitled Sermons of the Second Age. He would have liked to read it all but he’d already stayed longer than he meant and if he missed dinner again, Loren was sure to ask questions. He cast one last glaring look at the pile of useless books in the corner and hurried back through the shelves.
As soon as lights returned to the walls, he clenched his fist and the glow from his palm blinked out. The first time he’d tried to hold onto a light so long, he’d almost collapsed with exhaustion; now, he could do it as easy as breathing.
He weaved past a pair of students and pushed through the heavy doors, again nodding at the old librarian. Evening lay like a blanket on the streets. He cursed and hurried toward the dorms.
Ash slid onto the bench beside Loren with a few overcooked pieces of beef on the side of his plate.
“Where have you been?” Loren said.
“Library,” Ash said.
“What are you doing there all the time?”
Ash shrugged.
“Fine. You keep your secrets. But I need your help tonight. Thimble warned me after class that if I can’t manage heat to light tomorrow that she’s going to kick me out.”
Ash stifled a sigh by shoving a piece of burnt meat into his mouth. He’d spent every evening trying to get Loren to understand energy conversion but they hadn’t made any progress.
“Do you really need to be in magic?” Ash said.
Loren glanced around the small dining hall, but it was empty except for three people talking in animated voices two tables over. “I told you. If I’m not learning magic, Mother will expect me to marry or she’ll drag me back home.”
Ash laid down his fork. He couldn’t stomach more burnt meat. Loren shoved his plate of medium-rare steak toward Ash. “Go on, I’m not going to finish it.”
Ash dragged the plate closer. “Thanks. What were you doing before you came here then. Can’t you just do that again?”
Loren sighed. “I was a Ranger at the Borderlands.”
“You went from a Ranger to here?”
Loren slumped. “That’s where I should be. I was made to be a Ranger.” He made a gesture like swinging a sword through the air.
“So what happened?” Ash was happy to keep Loren talking about himself if it meant he wasn’t asking Ash awkward questions.
“My commander, Raina, and I…” Loren gazed into the distance. “When Mother heard I’d disgraced the family like that… well, let’s just say she’ll never let me be a Ranger again.”
Ash filled his mouth with a piece of buttered potato.
“If I’d been born here, a Southerner, it wouldn’t have mattered one bit.”
“Yeah, but you’d be a Southerner.”
Loren winced. “And I wouldn’t want that.”
Ash ate the last of Loren’s food and let his cutlery clatter to the plate. “Thanks for that.”
“I got extra, in case you showed up. So what were you doing in the library anyway?”
Ash was about to make some passing excuse when the perfect explanation came to him. “Getting a copy of Advanced Channeling.”
Loren groaned. “You’re kidding right? I can’t even manage a single spec of light and you’re trying to read Advanced Channeling.”
“Just curious,” Ash said.
“You can pretend all you like. I know, as I’m sure many others do, that you could probably master basic magic in a day. I don’t know how you do it.”
“You’re good with a sword,” Ash said. “Whereas I bet I could barely lift one. We’re just good at different things.”
“I would take that as a compliment if I hadn’t trained with a sword pretty much from the moment I was born. Are you telling me you’ve been practicing channeling your whole life?”
Ash shook his head.
“See? So did you try anything from the advanced book?”
“No… but I’ve put it somewhere safe. To come back to.”
“You know if you asked, Thimble might let you go to the advanced magic class. I’d miss the hell out of you, but it might be better for you…”
Butterflies fluttered to life in Ash’s stomach. He hadn’t even considered moving into the advanced class, but it made so much sense. He couldn’t risk staying at the Institute much longer and if he could learn advanced channeling… He filed the idea away; he’d ask Thimble in their next class.
“You’re thinking about it,” Loren said.
Ash nodded, light-hearted for the first time in weeks. “But in the meantime, we have to get you trained. Can’t have you being carted off to get married.”
Loren groaned. “Don’t even joke.”
48
“Help me set this leg,” Avarie said to Ash. “From the rumors I’ve heard, I’m sure your talents are wasted on cleaning sheets.”
Ash went to her side and looked down at the patient, an elderly woman who had fallen down a set of stairs and snapped her tibia. He gripped near her knee. “Oh they are wasted. But Pulmen wants to punish me, so…”
Avarie chuckled. “Then it’ll be our little secret. Ready?”
They shifted the bones back into place and the woman groaned despite being under a deep sedative.
Ash wrapped a splint against the leg.
Avarie stood back and watched. “You’ve done this before.”
Ash nodded without looking up.
“Where?”
He tied off the bandage. “I’d
rather not say.”
Avarie shrugged. “Everyone has their secrets, I suppose. Just look at—”
A wailing whistle erupted from the corridor, so loud and high-pitched that Ash had to cover his ears.
Avarie dropped the book of notes in her hands and hurried for the door.
Ash jogged after her. “What’s going on?”
“Emergency. Big one. I hope you’re ready.”
They raced through the hospital corridors, joining a growing stream of healers, all heading for the main foyer. When they arrived, chaos reigned.
People covered in burns and missing chunks of flesh lay on the floor. They moaned or screamed, while others lay deathly still. More injured people limped, or were carried, into the medical building.
Pulmen’s voice boomed over the confusion. “What happened?”
A ragged man with charcoal all over his face and a deep cut dribbling blood down his arm spoke up, “Explosion in the mechanics workshop. Someone forgot to cool down that damn pressure tank. The whole thing went, took out most of the workshop too. When I get my hands on whichever channeler was rostered on…”
Ash’s stomach clenched, Loren. But no… Loren’s class had been the day before.
“Right,” Pulmen said. “Everyone with minor injuries, take yourselves to the side of the room. You’ll be looked after as soon as everyone else has been seen to.”
Twenty people lay about the hospital, covered in ash. Of those, ten stood and shuffled to the side of the room, clutching bleeding limbs or bruised heads.
“One senior healer to each of the rest,” Pulmen said. “Take whatever juniors you need depending on severity.”
Avarie grabbed Ash’s arm and dragged him to the nearest prone body. Bleeding cuts covered all of the man’s exposed flesh and a piece of jagged metal protruded from his thigh.
She gripped his upper leg, above the piece of metal, slowing the flow of blood that leaked onto the floor. “Get me as many bandages as you can carry, some clotting agent, and an anesthetic.”
Ash turned and sprinted to the supply cabinet. Students and trained healers milled in front, snatching supplies from fast-depleting shelves. He pushed to the front and grabbed what he needed, running back to Avarie as fast as he could through the press of bodies.
Ash injected the anesthetic into the man’s thigh and wrapped one of the bandages tight just above the wound where Avarie had been gripping.
“On three,” Avarie said. “One. Two. Three.”
She yanked on the metal and it came free with a moist sucking noise. A geyser of blood followed it and puddled on the floor. “Bandage!” she yelled.
“It’s not enough,” Ash said. “He needs stitches!”
“Dammit, Ash! Give me that bandage or he’ll die.”
“He’ll die anyway. He needs stitches.” Ash tossed the bandage to the floor and sprinted for the cupboard. He ducked under flailing arms and snatched a roll of thread and a sharp needle.
He arrived back at Avarie’s side to find her desperately trying to stem the blood with a wad of bandages but it soaked straight through, leaving her hands stained red up to her elbows.
“Move,” Ash said. He shouldered her aside and bent over the leg. He pinched the severed artery together. “Hold this.”
Avarie did as he said, her hands trembled.
Ash squinted and threaded the needle into the man’s artery. He tugged the thread taut and made another stitch. His back ached but he pushed through the pain and focused on closing the artery.
The gush of blood slowed, and then stopped. Eight deft stitches pinched the man’s skin together and Ash tied off the thread. He did his best to wipe the wound clean before bandaging it up.
He leaned back on his heels and wiped the sheen of sweat from his forehead.
Avarie sat beside him, her head hung low. “I thought—”
“You were just doing what you thought was best.”
“I would have killed him!”
Ash opened his mouth, searching for anything to say that would make it better.
“We’re losing him!” A loud voice echoed over the din.
“Channeling healers, here!” Pulmen said.
Avarie got to shaking feet.
“What are you doing?”
“I can channel heal. I have to help. At least I might be able to do some good.”
Ash glanced down at their patient, the bleeding had stopped and his breathing seemed normal, so he hurried after Avarie into the confusion.
He paused just outside a circle of healers, gathered around a man with blood pouring from every spec of visible skin. His breathing came in uneven gasps and his fingers twitched.
Pulmen stood at the man’s head. Other, older healers gathered around his body, interspersed with some younger ones, like Avarie.
“Focus on your area,” Pulmen said, then yelled louder, “Where are those damn furnaces?”
Three young trainees staggered toward the group, each carrying a furnace that poured heat through the room. They set them down around the circle of healers.
Sweat sprung out on Ash’s forehead but he didn’t move back. He didn’t know what was about to happen, but if it involved channeling he had to see it, had to know.
“Ready?” Pulmen said.
The healers nodded, each of them reaching one hand back toward the nearest furnace.
“Now,” Pulmen said.
The healers’ eyes glazed over and the air around Ash cooled. Goose bumps puckered his flesh and he wrapped his arms over his chest.
Tendrils of heat poured from the furnaces, wrapped around the healers, and rushed into the patient in a different form, a diffuse blue. The blue light lingered around the healers’ hands where they rested on the patient and wherever it touched, the bleeding stopped.
Ash staggered closer. Wherever the blue light flowed, the jagged cuts closed over, broken bones straightened, burnt skin smoothed out.
His eyes flew to Avarie’s face. Sweat poured off her in rivulets and her skin had turned a pallid yellow. Her eyes stayed locked on the patient as one hand ran over his injuries and the other stretched toward the furnace, taking more and more heat from it.
The young apprentices who had first brought the furnaces returned with arm-loads of coal. They fed these into the fires, keeping them hot by working air pumps attached to the back, but they never stepped between the healers and the flames.
Ash remembered back to his time in Falconwall when Sinder had been poisoned. Ash had felt so exhausted after that, so cold, and he’d never worked out why… Now he had a guess.
He had no idea how long the healers stayed that way, running their hands over the dying man, but when Pulmen sat back, the rest of the foyer was silent, the other patients having been taken to private rooms or sent on their way.
“Take those away,” Pulmen said to the apprentices, waving at the furnaces.
The prone patient blinked; his breathing steady and no sign of injury on his flesh. “Look out!” he screamed, sitting bolt upright.
Ash’s heart clenched and he turned, but there was nothing there.
“Easy,” Pulmen said. “There was an accident. You’re okay now.”
The patient ran a hand over his uninjured skin. “It felt like I was on fire.” He tugged at the tattered remains of his shirt.
“I think you were for a bit,” Pulmen said. “You’ll need to stay here for observation.”
The patient nodded.
Pulmen stood and staggered back toward his office. Many of the other healers stayed kneeling on the ground, gasping for breath.
Ash ran to Avarie’s side. Her eyes were closed and she trembled. “Are you okay?”
She blinked, frowned, and then her eyes focused on him. “Oh, Ash. Yes. Just tired. But we need to take him…”
Ash ran his gaze over the healed man. “Can you walk?”
“I think so,” he said.
“Good. Follow us.” Ash hooked his arm under Avarie’s and hauled her up before le
nding his other arm to the patient.
The three of them lurched away from the entrance hall and into the first available room they found. Ash lowered the patient onto the bed.
“What happened?” the man said.
Ash hoisted Avarie’s weight higher. “Honestly, I don’t know. But I think you just escaped death.”
The man ran a hand down his body. “I think you’re right.”
“Stay here,” Ash said. “Someone will be in to see you.”
The man nodded and let his head fall back, eyes closing.
Ash half-carried half-dragged Avarie out of the door and into the nearby waiting room. The empty room made a welcome change to the bustling corridor. He lowered her into a chair and fetched a glass of water.
“Thank you,” she said.
“What happened?”
Avarie sighed and leaned back. “Healing by channeling.”
“But if you can do that, why do we bother with bandages!”
Avarie gestured to her trembling limbs. “Because it’s exhausting, and dangerous if you don’t control it properly.”
“But…” Ideas bounced through Ash’s skull, too many to keep track of and all of them more exciting than the last. “But… if you can heal people, no one would have to die! Can you heal disease as well? What about chronic conditions?”
“Whoa, it’s not that easy. It took all of us trained in channeled healing just to save that one man. We can’t do it for every patient that comes in. Yes, it can work for diseases but it’s even harder because you have to target the healing energy at the infection. It’s possible to delay chronic conditions with daily treatment, but not cure them.” She let out a long breath of air.
“But there’s so much potential. Why let people die…?”
Avarie sighed. “That’s channeling. Energy is always lost.”
“I have to learn it. I could help people.” In his head, people meant Rae.
“It’s advanced channeling. You’ve still got a while to go.”
“Basic channeling is too easy. I need to be moved up.”
Avarie raised an eyebrow. “Have you mentioned that to Thimble?”
Shadow of a Slave (The Blood Mage Chronicles Book 1) Page 26