“Not much.”
Elaine arched a brow. “That is vague.”
Sam shrugged. “How specific do you want me to be? I don’t have nearly as much as I once did and not nearly enough to practice using it.” That wasn’t entirely true. She still had a dozen sheets of paper, all concealed within the university, all held safe by Alec. That paper was the key to her rapid development. Most Kavers struggled with learning how to use their skills, partially because they were limited on how aggressive they could be practicing. Sam and Alec had never had such limitations—at least not quite the same limitations as others, because they had managed to keep a supply of paper.
“You understand the purpose of the paper is to protect the city. If you are hoarding it—”
Sam shook her head. “We’re not hoarding it. And how can I know what I need to know to protect the city if it’s limited?”
“There are other ways for you to train. There are other skills for you to learn.”
“Such as what Marin knew?” Sam glanced over at her mother as they paused in front of a gilded door. On the other side was the princess’s private quarters, a place that Sam once would have found overwhelmingly ornate. She still did, she supposed, but nothing about the palace overwhelmed her quite as it once had.
“Marin was always a skilled Kaver,” Elaine said.
“She didn’t need augmentations to challenge me,” Sam said.
“No. She did not. Which is why you need to be cautious when you throw yourself against her.”
“I didn’t throw myself against anyone.” Not that she would be opposed to doing so with Alec. She flushed again at the thought, and Elaine watched her, practically knowing what she was thinking. “Well, maybe I threw myself against a Theln. And Tray. Had my augmentations been enough, I wouldn’t have been captured.”
Elaine grunted. “You can’t be so dependent on augmentations all the time, Samara. There will come a time when your augmentations will fail. They aren’t indefinite. That’s why we train so that we don’t have to rely upon them.”
“The Thelns don’t rely on augmentations, and their powers don’t fail.
“Their magic is different from what we possess.”
If Sam had hoped that she might get a better understanding of the Theln magic, she was mistaken. It was something that she still didn’t understand well. She had tried to ask questions, but those who knew didn’t speak of it.
It was something that she would have to ask Tray. It was even more reason to chase her brother down and try to reach him.
On the other side of the door was a sitting room. Even that was enormous. It rivaled the size of Bastan’s tavern, right down to the enormous hearth glowing with a crackling fire. There were none of the same pleasant smells that she always enjoyed in Bastan’s tavern, but the princess had access to all the food she wanted, all with a simple summons. Several chairs were arranged in a half circle in front of the fire. Two massive wardrobes—likely filled with gowns and robes and other clothing that Sam could not imagine wearing—stood against the opposite wall. A folded screen created some privacy near a corner, and Sam wondered if someone hid behind it, listening. Knowing her mother, she likely wouldn’t allow that, especially as the princess’s Kaver.
“Why are we here?” Sam asked softly.
She didn’t see any sign of the princess, but her mother seemed unperturbed by that. Sam could see her mother had a comfortable familiarity entering such ornate quarters. Sam wondered if she would ever reach a point of a similar comfort. It was unlikely that she would. As much as she had grown accustomed to her days in the palace, there was still something more comfortable when she was in the Caster section of the city. It was what she knew. She didn’t have to thieve, not as she once did, though she couldn’t deny that she missed it in some ways.
Coming to the palace had changed so much for her. Not only was she now training with a purpose, and she understood more about who she was and where she came from, but she no longer had to worry about capture by the city guards or drawing the attention of highborns. Kyza knew that she was practically a highborn now, even if she didn’t feel that way.
“We’re here because of your foolishness tonight.”
A small figure stood from one of the chairs, and Sam realized that the princess was here. She had golden hair, and it had a luxurious sheen to it, braided and twisted up so that it formed buns on top of her head. Her pale blue eyes sparkled as she glanced from Sam to Elaine. She had a golden dress that matched her hair, something that Sam figured was intentional.
“Thelns have attacked in the city again,” Elaine said, not even bothering to greet the princess.
Sam still wasn’t sure what was expected of her. Was she to bow? She wouldn’t curtsy. That didn’t feel right. Bowing seemed somehow wrong also. This was a woman she had saved, and whether the princess acknowledged it or not—and often, she did not—she wasn’t about to be deferential to her.
Yet she couldn’t deny the young woman’s regal air and the confident way she carried herself. Sam suspected she managed it without even knowing what she did. That was likely what happened when someone was born and raised in the palace, accustomed to all of the niceties that were found there. It was something that Sam would never feel. Regardless of what she was, she still felt like that lowborn girl from Caster.
“The Scribes have noticed a disturbance,” the princess said.
“Sam claims to have been attacked by one or more of them.”
“One,” Sam said quickly. She wouldn’t have the Scribes chasing after Tray. Not yet. There might come a time when they would have to, but she had no intention of putting them on her brother’s trail too quickly. “And it was one of the Thelns I’ve faced before. His name is Ralun.”
The princess flicked her gaze briefly to Elaine before looking back to Sam. “Are you certain?”
Sam nodded. “I’ve faced him before. He was the Theln who was in the city when you were poisoned.”
“Not poisoned. Targeted,” the princess said. “The Book targets an individual, and the disease takes hold. They used a wasting illness on me.”
“I remember,” Sam said. “I think I was the one who helped ensure that you were brought back from it.” She didn’t often throw that out at the princess, but now seemed the time.
Elaine was watching her. “Are you sure that it was Ralun?”
“I’m sure.”
“Why haven’t you told me about him before?” Elaine asked.
“What does it matter? I didn’t realize that individual Thelns made a difference. When she was attacked”—Sam nodded to the princess—“there were three or four Thelns in the city.” Sam lost track of how many there were, but knew that she had killed several of them, all with the aid of Alec’s augmentations. Without them, she would have been strangled or poisoned or… possibly any number of horrible fates could have befallen her.
Elaine glanced over to the princess. “I’ve told you, she doesn’t know enough. We need to share with her.”
“It’s because she doesn’t know enough that we can’t share with her,” the princess said.
“Share what with me?” Sam asked.
The princess considered her for a long moment. “Are you certain it was he?”
“I’m certain. I told you, I’ve had enough experience with him that I would recognize him. He’s the one who shot me with the poison crossbow bolt and later destroyed Alec’s father’s apothecary. Why is he important?”
“He is important because he is dangerous.”
“All Thelns are dangerous,” Sam said.
“And he sits high among them. If he is here, we need to know who he intends to target.”
“Target?”
The princess nodded. “When you encountered him at the university while you and your Scribe were working to save me”—the princess looked right at Sam at that moment, and she felt a surge of satisfaction at the recognition—“it was not the first time Ralun had used the Book against us. If he i
s here again, it means that he intends to use it again, and whoever he is here for is in grave danger.”
8
Fatherly Advice
Alec crossed over the bridge leading to the palace section. He hated that it had come to this, but he should have heard from Sam by now, and the fact that he hadn’t bothered him much more than it should. He tried to ignore Beckah watching him as he made his way across the bridge between the university section and the palace, but he felt her gaze practically burning on his back. Could Stefan be right? Could Beckah’s feelings for him be more than just friendship? He didn’t think so. He attributed her intensity to her struggle to learn what she needed to do with Tray. But if Stefan was right, he’d have to address it at another time.
On the other side of the bridge, he encountered a pair of guards. Thankfully, Sam had given him a ring like hers, signifying his right to at least enter the palace grounds, and he flashed it at the guards. They waved him past, and he felt the same flush of excitement he got each time he used it. It still amazed him that he was allowed to come onto the palace grounds, though he suspected that it amazed Sam even more. She didn’t talk about her feelings about it, not like she once did, but he knew that she viewed herself as less than what she was.
Once on the other side, Alec looked around. He had rarely come here on his own, but he’d grown tired of waiting for Sam. He didn’t like being separated from her, any more than he liked not knowing what had befallen her. He had the sense that something had happened to her, which was why she had not reported back to him after the augmentation he sent, but what? And why was she keeping it from him? What was she thinking she could do on her own?
More than he could do on his own. He knew that. Sam was skilled, whereas he was… he was a healer. Not a physicker, though he had to believe that he would eventually reach that point. And he wasn’t an apothecary, not anymore. It left him questioning what he was and what he was meant to be.
What was he doing here? He didn’t even know whether Sam was here, and if she was, would she be free to visit with him? Or would he only end up disturbing her? She had other responsibilities. He knew that. But then, he thought that she would want to see him.
When he reached the main entrance of the palace, he paused. Alec glanced around, looking to see whether there was anyone here who he might recognize. He’d only been here a few times, not often enough that he thought he should recognize someone, but if there was someone here he might know…
The door opened, and a familiar face appeared.
“Master Helen?”
She looked over at him, and a dark expression clouded her brow. “Mr. Stross. I didn’t realize that you were granted permission to leave the university and come to the palace.”
Alec blinked. Was he supposed to get permission? He didn’t think that was required, but then again, he hadn’t been at the university long enough to know for sure. What if he was supposed to get permission? And what if his leaving got him into trouble?
Alec could only imagine just how excited Master Carl would be at learning that Alec had ventured beyond where he was supposed to go, and how excited the master might be to enact whatever discipline such an unsanctioned departure warranted.
“Relax, Mr. Stross. I have no intention of telling Master Carl that you left the grounds.”
A flush washed over his face. “Thank you. I mean…” He shook his head. What did he mean? And how had Master Helen even known what he was thinking about? Was he that transparent that he was known by the other masters?
“I don’t believe your—friend—is here.”
Alec flicked his gaze to the palace. “Do you know where she might be?” Never mind the fact that he didn’t know why Master Helen would care where Sam was, or why she would keep tabs on her comings and goings. What mattered more to him was that he didn’t know what happened to her, and he was getting concerned—and maybe a bit afraid.
“She has an assignment.”
“An assignment? I would think that if she had an assignment, I—”
“Would you? You are a student at the university, studying to become a physicker. Don’t presume that places you in any greater position than anyone else, Mr. Stross.”
Alec’s mouth went dry. “I wasn’t trying to—”
“I know exactly what you were trying to do, Mr. Stross. There are a great many things you can still accomplish at the university, but you must be there in order to do so. There is a process, a stepwise manner to your training. Don’t think that you can step beyond it, regardless of how accelerated of a student you might be.”
She pushed past him, and he turned to grant her space and watched her go. He stood at the doorway, feeling foolish. At least she had complimented him in her chiding, but even that compliment was a challenge. He felt taken aback and didn’t know how he should react, or what he should say.
His gaze drifted back up to the palace. If Sam wasn’t here, there was nothing for him here. There was no reason for him to remain. It would be better for him to go back to the university… Only he didn’t really want to go back, not without knowing more about what had happened to Sam, and he didn’t like the idea of bumping into Master Helen again, either.
Alec sighed and turned away, crossing the grassy yard leading toward the bridge that would carry him away from the palace. There was another bridge that had been damaged, and it was undergoing repairs, but that wasn’t the way he wanted to go, anyway. His steps took him from section to section, quickly passing from one part of the city to another, and he finally reached his father’s rebuilt apothecary shop.
A few lanterns glowed inside, giving off light despite the early hour. It was his father’s way of alerting others that he was there. He often lit lanterns inside, and there was something comforting about that, a warmth to the apothecary shop that no other place really rivaled.
Alec pushed the door open, enjoying the familiar sound of the bell tinkling above as he entered. His father sat at the back of the shop and looked up when Alec entered.
His eyes widened, and he smiled at Alec. The same warmth that he’d always known evident on his face. “Alec. Has the university granted you a break?”
“I have completed my studies for the day, if that’s what you’re asking.”
His father nodded. “Good. Good. I wasn’t worried. I think you have an advantage that most who go to the university do not. How many have had the opportunity to practice before they even study?”
Alec snorted. “Not many. That advantage is nice, Father, but it often sets me apart.”
His father glanced back down to where he was documenting. He wrote on a nice parchment, likely expensive, imported specifically for Aelus by Mrs. Rubbles. “As well you should be. You have a brighter mind than most in the university.”
Alec took a seat across from his father and rested his arms on the table, simply enjoying the familiarity of the shop. It wasn’t the same shop he had known growing up, but that didn’t matter to him, not entirely. That shop had been destroyed, and his father had rebuilt this in much the same image.
His father set the pen down and looked up at Alec. “Out with it. What is it?”
“It’s nothing, Father.”
“Nothing? You come to see me when I would think you’d be studying, and sit here with your shoulders slumped and a deep frown on your face. I don’t need to be a master physicker to know something’s wrong. I suspect if I were to check your pulse, your heart would be palpating, and with your quickened breathing—”
Alec waved his hand, cutting his father off. “I’m not some patient who came for healing.”
“You’re my son. I am willing to do whatever it takes to ensure that you understand how much that matters to me.”
“I know how much it matters, Father.”
“What is it then?”
“It’s Sam.”
“It often seems that when you come here frustrated, there’s some problem with that girl. It was often the same with your mother and me.”
“Isn’t it? Perhaps it’s not, but perhaps you would like it to be. Could it be that you’re here because you aren’t receiving the affection you would like?”
“Father—”
“Don’t father me. I’m only asking because I care and because I want to know what I can do to help. I don’t want to see you in pain.”
“I’m not in pain. I’m just…”
His father smiled. “I understand. You’re just like every other young man who finds himself in a position where you have someone you care about but you aren’t sure what they feel about you.”
“I know what Sam feels about me.”
“You do? Is it a shared emotion?”
“Shared emotion? Father, you don’t have to talk quite so clinical all the time.”
His father breathed out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I find that talking clinically makes it an easier conversation. After your mother…”
“I understand.”
“I’m not sure that you do. After your mother, I’ve not been able to connect to someone else, not nearly as easily as I would like. I’ve tried, and the gods know that there have been opportunities—”
“Father!”
“You’re old enough to have heard this.”
“Maybe you should check with Mrs. Rubbles.”
He waved his hand. “Rubbles is not quite my type.”
“Not your type? Father, this is Mrs. Rubbles we’re talking about.”
“And I told you that she isn’t the kind of person who appeals to me.”
“You mean someone caring? Someone who goes out of her way to make sure that you have all the paper that you need? Someone who ensures that all of your supplies are ready?”
“You would lecture me? You have this nice girl that you have been partnered with, and you’ve done nothing but create reasons why the two of you aren’t a good fit. You’re not convincing anyone.”
Tormina: The Book of Maladies Page 7