The figure on the other side was familiar. There was no mistaking the sheer size. A Theln, but it was her Theln.
“Tray!” she called out.
He glanced back and shook his head as he disappeared in the night, joined by another figure.
Sam paused only a moment. She had been searching for Tray ever since that night when she had fought Marin at the canal bridge. Bastan had led Sam here to find her brother. How he knew, she didn’t care. What job she had to complete, she didn’t care. She just knew this might be her only opportunity to reach him. If she lost him now, she didn’t know how long it would take to find him again, if she ever did.
Sam gathered herself, debating whether she should place another augmentation, but decided the ones she had would hold long enough. All she needed was to reach Tray.
She jumped, clearing the canal in a single leap, and went racing into the night after her brother.
3
Finding Tray
Moonlight shimmered across the water in the canal far below Sam, in a way that made the canals seem almost peaceful rather than the dangerous—possibly deadly—thing that they were. Every so often, there was a splash, a reminder of the eels that swam through the water, and she shivered. She’d had enough encounters with the eels to know she never wanted to get close to them again. Then again, she now knew that those eels served as a line of defense. It was because of the canal eels that the Thelns were unable to enter the city in any significant numbers.
She forced her thoughts back to the task at hand. What would her brother be doing here?
He wasn’t her brother—not by blood, at least—but it was difficult for her to think of him in any other terms. In her mind, he still was her brother.
With a quick leap, she jumped onto a nearby roof. She landed softly, silently, the enhancement that made her even lighter than usual helping grant her soft footing. She darted onward, streaking in the direction Tray had gone, keeping her cloak pulled around her so as to conceal herself better.
At the end of the street, she paused, searching for signs of movement.
It was late, and as was true in Caster, this time of night brought out only thieves—or worse. Sam wasn’t sure what she qualified as. She wasn’t a thief, not any longer, and she was certain she was anything worse. Now, she was only Sam, both more and less than what she had once believed herself to be.
Where was Tray?
Then she saw him.
He crossed the canal again, and she gave chase, keeping behind him. They raced through several sections, and as they did, she realized they headed toward the inner part of the city—merchant sections. It wouldn’t be too far for her to head to Arrend and Alec’s apothecary from here.
Maybe it wasn’t Tray. She hadn’t seen him clearly. But if it wasn’t, it meant Thelns had reached the city again. She thought she, with Alec’s help, had stopped Marin’s planned attack in time, but what if they hadn’t? What if the Thelns had reached the city?
She paused near a tall building. It was difficult to tell what sort of building it was from this angle, but there were dozens of merchants on the street. Most of the buildings were far nicer than anything that she had known growing up, far nicer than any that would’ve been found in the Caster section of the city.
The figure paused, glancing back. If Sam stepped forward, she would reveal her presence. Facing a Theln without solid augmentations would be a mistake, and she wouldn’t make it unless she had no other alternative.
If only she knew that it was Tray. If it was, she had more questions for him.
But if it wasn’t, she’d followed someone out of the building Bastan had guided her to, and that person was likely responsible for the death of the woman she’d found.
As he disappeared from view, Sam cursed to herself. As a Kaver, and someone who now worked on behalf of the throne to offer whatever protection she could to the royal family, didn’t she have an obligation to discover whether it was one of the Thelns? And if it was, didn’t she have an obligation to ensure that he didn’t cause trouble in the city?
Sam crept forward, readying her staff. Even as she did, she knew the smart thing to do would be to wait, or follow closely and gather information, but when had Sam ever done only the smart thing?
She jumped. It carried her up and over the canal in a single leap. There had been a time when such jumps would’ve seemed impossible, and she would have needed to use her canal staff to clear the canal, worrying about whether the distance would be too much, but with her weight mitigated through the augmentation, that was no longer a concern.
She leaned up against one of the nearby buildings, wrapping her cloak around her. She held herself completely still, searching for signs of movement, but there was nothing.
Had the man known he was being followed?
When nothing moved in the night, Sam stepped forward.
Something whistled toward her.
Instincts honed over years spent roaming the streets late at night told her to drop. She went to her knees, and then she rolled, moving off to the side and out of the way of whatever it was that came toward her.
Sam jumped to her feet, spinning her staff around. When she had placed the augmentation on herself, she had added an enhancement to her strength. It was nothing like what Alec would have been able to give her—her skills with documenting and adding the augmentations were nothing compared to his—but more than she would have had naturally. That combined with the reduction in her weight made her movements considerably faster.
She still missed.
She rolled back, slapping her staff against the stone and pushing off, soaring into the air in a rapid flip. She surveyed the street in midair, looking for signs of the attacker, but saw nothing.
She landed with her staff held vertically in front of her and swung around it as she slid down, spiraling to the ground. Something else flickered toward her, tearing through her cloak.
A knife.
Her enhancements helped, but she could still be injured—or killed—like anyone else. Without Alec here to heal her if something happened, she didn’t think that remaining exposed like this was a great idea.
Had she become so reliant on augmentations that she couldn’t function without them? There had been a time—before she even knew about such augmentations—when she relied on her gut and her street smarts. Back then, having augmentations might have been helpful, but they certainly weren’t necessary to remain safe on the streets. It almost embarrassed her.
When she landed, she spun around again, swinging her feet in the direction of the source of the knives.
Another attack didn’t come.
Sam jumped, getting to her feet before anything could happen to her.
Was that movement? She wasn’t certain. Rather than waiting to find out, she jumped.
But the augmentation failed. Her jump carried her five feet into the air, not enough to reach the rooftop as she had intended. She grabbed for the staff, sliding back down it.
She had easar paper and another vial of blood ink, but she would need time to apply it, and a sudden flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye told her she would not have that time.
Sam danced back, moving away from whoever this unseen attacker was. There came another flicker, and another knife whistled toward her.
She ducked, and the knife buried itself in the wall behind where she’d been standing. Thankfully, it didn’t even tear through her cloak. She wouldn’t want the questions Elaine would have if that happened.
She took another step back and bumped into something hard.
Sam spun around, and realized that she hadn’t bumped into something, but someone.
“Tray?”
He grabbed her arm, but it wasn’t that movement that drew her attention. It was the menacing look on his face, an expression that she had never seen from him before. Rage twisted his brow, anger that didn’t fit with the boy she still knew him as.
Sam jerked her arm free. Or, at least she t
ried to.
Tray was strong, much stronger than she was, and he held her in an iron grip. “Get out of here, Sam.”
She watched him, sadness welling up within her. This was her brother. This was the boy she had helped raise, ensuring that he was safe and unharmed on the streets. It was because of Tray that she had even risked trying to help the princess, but because of him, she had learned more about herself and what she could do.
And he was a Theln, at least partly.
“What are you doing?” Sam hissed.
Tray pushed her back, and she went stumbling. He positioned himself in front of her, blocking her view so that she couldn’t see what was coming down the street.
Who was he working with?
“Where is she?” Sam asked.
Tray shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters, not anymore.”
“It does matter. You know what she did to me, and the way that she treated you is just as bad.”
“Go,” Tray whispered.
Sam considered arguing, but what good would that do? What good would it do for her to argue with him when he could overpower her, especially without any augmentations. Even with augmentations, it was more about her natural reluctance to do anything that might harm Tray than anything else. She refused to attack her brother. She only wished that he felt the same about her.
“I’ve been looking for you throughout the entire blasted city. Kyza knows—”
Tray took a step toward her, and the look on his face screamed violence. Without wanting to and without meaning to, Sam took a step away from him.
“If you know what’s good for you, you will go,” Tray said.
“What’s good for me? Listen, I don’t think you understand what’s been going on. Marin has protected you, and—”
Tray took another step toward her, and she jumped back. She didn’t think he would do anything, but what if the ties of their childhood together no longer meant what they once had?
Sam refused to believe that was the case. She refused to view him as anything other than her brother.
But, after learning of the way that Marin had deceived everyone, she wasn’t about to assume that her brother wouldn’t do anything to harm her. She didn’t think Tray would, but she hadn’t thought Marin would betray everyone in the city, either.
She brought her staff around, placing it between her and Tray. Even without her augmentations, she wasn’t entirely helpless. She had learned to fight with the staff, to protect herself and attack if needed. She had just never thought that she would need to attack her brother.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what you did with Marin.”
Tray watched her, and his eyes widened slightly.
Too late, Sam realized why—and what he had done for her.
There was movement behind her, and as she tried to turn, something grazed her temple. She swung her staff around, but it was caught and torn free from her grip. Her vision blurred, and all she could think about was that the Theln in front of her was familiar.
Sam tried backing up, and she bumped into Tray.
She looked up at him, but the hope burning in her eyes faded when she saw the expression on his face again. Her brother was in there—she was sure of it—but he wouldn’t help her. Maybe he couldn’t help. Maybe whatever had happened with the Thelns—and with Marin—prevented him from being able to help. She hated that it could be true.
As she turned back to her familiar attacker—Ralun, the stupid Theln who had chased her through the city before she first learned of her abilities—she felt something else strike her from behind, and she staggered forward, practically into his arms.
Ralun grinned widely. “Kaver. I have so been looking forward to this.”
4
The Patient
Sun shone through one of the stained-glass windows at the university, sending streaks of color stretching across the interior of the library. Alec found it beautiful, but the rainbow of colors did nothing to help his mood.
Where was Sam?
Ever since rescuing her from Marin—at least, he liked to think that he’d had a hand in her rescue—she had been more present, and he appreciated that. Since coming to the university, he had begun to miss her, but he was torn. He craved what the university offered him, but he knew it was consuming almost all of his time, and he hated that it took away time that he could be spending with Sam. If anything good had come out of the attack, it was that he believed Sam now saw him as an integral part of what they did as Kaver and Scribe. And that was something.
Alec made another note in his journal, documenting what they had seen while on rounds that morning. It was another illness that he had seen before, though his experience treating illnesses of this type was quite a bit different from how most at the university would treated them. With this illness, it was abdominal pain, but he suspected it came from some other source, something his father called referred pain. Alec had always thought his father was teasing him, making up terms to test him, but he had seen it himself, and had seen how a problem in another area of the body could manifest as pain in the abdomen.
“That’s an interesting thought,” Beckah said, taking a seat next to him.
Alec looked over. She smiled as she took her place and twisted a ring on the middle finger of her left hand. Her eyes remained fixed on his journal as they often had over the time since they had met. “That’s not necessarily my thought but my father’s.”
“Still, I think you might be right.”
“Master Charles wasn’t sure that I was right,” Alec said.
Beckah waved her hand. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about Master Charles. Most of the time, he doesn’t even know what he’s talking about. You know, he is getting old.”
Alec grinned. “I’m not sure that we should refer to Master Charles as getting old when Master Eckerd is considerably older than he is.”
Beckah shrugged. “Eckerd is different, isn’t he?”
“How do we know that Master Charles isn’t different also?” They didn’t speak about Scribes openly, not in the library, but it was fair to assume that, since they knew several of the masters were Scribes, many of the masters were. It was just that Alec didn’t know which ones they were. Eckerd hadn’t shared that with him in the days since the last attack, preferring to usher him back into his studies. Alec wasn’t ready to know that information, at least according to Master Eckerd.
“We would know, wouldn’t we?”
Alec shrugged. “I don’t know. Without them sharing with us, I don’t know how much we’d be aware of. Sam doesn’t tell me what she’s learned in the palace, though I suspect that’s as much because she’s not sure what to make of it.”
Beckah leaned back and pulled a book off the stack on the table next to him.
Alec glanced over at it and looked at the title, then shook his head. “That’s not anything exciting. It’s just—”
“It’s exciting because you thought it was important. Why choose this title?”
Alec wasn’t exactly sure how to answer. That title was important to him because it spoke of countering unseen injuries. After what had happened during the last attack, he thought he should be better prepared for the possibility that they might face more like it. Tray had nearly died, and were it not for Beckah’s insatiable appetite for learning and experimenting, which led to discovering that she was a Scribe herself, he might have.
Alec knew how much Tray meant to Sam. He also knew how much Sam meant to him, so he was willing to do whatever it took to ensure that she didn’t suffer. Wasn’t that his responsibility as her Scribe?
“Ah, I see why you chose this one.”
Beckah’s voice trailed off, and he reached across the table for her hand. There wasn’t much he could do to soothe her, and there was even less he could do to reassure her that she would ever have the same connection to her Kaver as he did to his. Neither of them knew exactly what it meant that she was connected to Tray. For that mat
ter, they didn’t even know where Tray had gone. He had disappeared, taking Marin with him, presumably to get answers about what had happened to him. Sam had gone off thinking to help, but when she found Tray, she would have a different purpose to her search.
“Do you know whether Scribes ever pair with more than one Kaver?”
Alec shook his head. “I don’t know. All I know is that the union is felt to be important.” He didn’t know much more than that, and without one of the Scribes sharing with them, they might never know.
“I think all we can do is prepare, and be ready if he returns,” Alec said.
“It’s easy for you to say. You have your connection to your Kaver. You still see her.”
Alec stared down at the page, nodding to himself. He still saw Sam, and… he should have seen her by now, at least he should have gotten word from her by now. Usually, she was better at getting back to him, making sure that he knew that nothing had happened to her, so if she didn’t, it left him worrying and uncertain. Knowing Sam, she was likely to get into trouble at some point. That was the entire purpose of their agreement. She would always send word, and if he didn’t hear from her, he would have to assume that something had happened.
“You look troubled.”
“It’s nothing,” he said. He didn’t want to bother Beckah with his own concerns, certainly not when it involved his connection to his Kaver. It felt like rubbing salt in a wound.
“If you haven’t heard from her…”
Alec sighed. “I should have heard something by now. It’s just that I know Sam. I know what she thinks herself capable of doing, and I worry about her.”
“You don’t think she’s capable of doing what she thinks she can?”
“It’s not that, not at all. She is capable, even more capable than those who are training her would like to believe. It’s just that because she’s so capable and because she is as fearless as she is, I worry about her.”
Tormina: The Book of Maladies Page 3