Tormina: The Book of Maladies

by D. K. Holmberg

  “Now imagine that your mother was hiding something from you. Imagine that you believed she’d spent all of her time doting on your brother, but you learned she had a secret that she’d hidden from you. Imagine that she didn’t actually spend all that time with your brother, but rather disappeared for stretches of time, doing secretive things, and never explaining to you where she went.”

  “That wouldn’t happen.”

  “But imagine that it did.”

  Beckah sat silent for a moment, and then she nodded slowly. “I see what you’re saying. Then again, your father has always been strange, hasn’t he?” When Alec arched a brow, she laughed. “You know I’m just kidding you. He did choose to abandon his training at the university and go off on his own. There aren’t many who would do that, and certainly not many who have the raw talent that your father appeared to have. The gods know that if he didn’t, you wouldn’t have learned nearly as much as you did. I think he could have been a master physicker had he stayed here.”

  Alec still didn’t know why his father had left the university. He had his suspicions, and it seemed as if perhaps part of it was tied to what had happened to his mother, but maybe there was more to it.

  “He is strange,” Alec said. “He’s also caring. Intelligent. And serves the city in a way that I don’t yet understand.”

  He frowned as he said it.

  If his father served the city, and if he wasn’t a Scribe, maybe he served the city in a different but related way. Maybe he worked on behalf of the Scribes.

  If his father wouldn’t tell him what he did, was there another way for him to find out?

  And if he did, would it upset his father?

  Alec didn’t know whether that mattered quite as much as it once would have.

  It was a strange realization for him. He had moved on, no longer needing his father the way he once had. He no longer needed his approval. Now that he had come to the university for his studies, he felt as if he could make his own way. It might be through becoming a physicker, or he might choose his father’s path, deciding to take over the apothecary. But if he were to do that, it would be his choice and not his father’s.

  There was another option, and it was the one that Alec hoped would come to fruition, but it was the more dangerous one. That involved him learning and understanding what was needed for him to be a more effective Scribe.

  And without Sam, he couldn’t.

  As much as Beckah was annoyed that she couldn’t find Tray, Alec was equally annoyed. He was accustomed to having Sam with him, working with him, and her prolonged absence troubled him.

  There was a knock at the door, and Alec looked up.

  Could it be Sam?

  When he opened the door, a messenger stood there, holding a folded piece of parchment. It came from the palace, and he knew immediately that it was from Sam. He unfolded it, scanning the contents, once again reassured that she was fine, but elaborating no more than that.

  He crumpled the page up and tossed it off into the corner.

  “That good?” Beckah asked.

  “She’s fine. I guess I should be pleased that she let me know that she’s unharmed, it’s just that…”

  “It’s just that you’re angry that you don’t get a chance to work with her.”

  Alec nodded. “Angry might be a bit strong, but I am disappointed. She knows that I worry about her, and the fact that she’s been gone for as long as she has bothers me.”

  “Why does it bother you? She’s capable. I’ve seen it.”

  “She’s capable.” Alec smiled to himself. “She might be more capable than most who share her heritage, partly because her background was unknown to her growing up, and she had to find a different way. But because of that, she often finds herself in trouble.” He looked over at Beckah. “I hate worrying about her. I hate not knowing what’s happening and fearing that something unfortunate has occurred, and never knowing whether she will send word to me. Never knowing whether my augmentations have made a difference, or if I’m simply overreacting. All I want—”

  “Is her.”

  He looked over and Beckah shrugged.

  “You care for her. It’s more than just a Kaver and Scribe connection. I can see that. It’s obvious in how you look at her.”

  “Beckah—”

  Beckah grinned at him. “I’m not jealous. I’ll admit that when I first met you, there was an interest on my part, perhaps an appeal, but I understand that you have someone who is important to you, and you need to work on that. Maybe you need to share with her how you feel.”

  “I don’t know how I feel.”

  “I think you do. I think that you’re afraid to share your feelings. Gods, Alec! You’re one of the brightest people at the university, but you can’t even diagnose yourself?”

  Alec’s gaze drifted to the stack of books near the corner of his room. “There aren’t books on things like that,” he said.

  “No. I suppose there aren’t. If there were, maybe I wouldn’t be miserable.”

  “Why are you miserable?”

  “Oh, there are many reasons for me to be miserable. I suppose mostly, it’s a frustration that there’s knowledge I’m not able to tap into.”

  She tipped her head toward one of his journals. It was one where he had a folded scrap of easar paper hidden. Did she know that was where he kept it? Back before they discovered she was a Scribe, she’d broken into his room and altered his journals, thinking it a great joke on him. But that was before she knew anything about him or about easar paper. Now she knew the value of it and what it could be used for. Her knowing where he kept his small supply felt like a violation, almost a betrayal.

  Or was he overreacting?

  Alec wasn’t sure. He wouldn’t put it past himself to overreact. When it came to easar paper, and the scarcity of it, he had overreacted in the past. It wasn’t something that he was proud of, but they had such a limited supply, and such a need for him and Sam to practice—and to do whatever it took to keep her safe—that he needed to maintain all of the supplies he could.

  “I think the master physickers—at least those who are Scribes—will train us when the time is right. We already have Master Eckerd and Master Helen in our corner, I think. But this is all new, to us at least. Once we become more familiar and they become comfortable with us, I think they will take us under their wings and teach us,” Alec said.

  “Do you believe that? They already know what you are, but have they come to you offering to teach?”

  Alec swallowed. “No.”

  “Have you thought about why that might be?”

  “I haven’t. I’ve been—”

  “Focused on where Sam might be. And I get that. But I need your help on this.”

  “And what is this?”

  “Don’t you agree that the masters’ secrecy seems to have increased, not decreased since we helped with the Theln attack? Why? Why haven’t they reached out to us to teach us? We could be helpful, especially now that it’s known that you’re a Scribe and that I could be a Scribe.” She gave a sigh of exasperation. “That’s what makes me miserable. It’s almost like they’re trying to keep us from it.”

  “I don’t know that they’re trying to keep anything from us. There’s a level of knowledge required—”

  “And you have that knowledge. You’ve shown that you can do things that they didn’t think were possible, at least not for someone of your level. Don’t get into the same mind trap that they would have you in. Don’t believe that you’re less than what you are.”

  “It’s almost as if you want to force me to confront Master Eckerd.”

  “Not confront. I only want you to think about what we might be able to learn.”

  Alec had to admit that having a chance to work with a master physicker who was also a Scribe appealed to him. How could it not? He had so many questions and wanted to be ready for whatever Sam might need from him, if she ever returned to him. Without having an opportunity to work with her an
d practice, he needed to have a different way to gain that skill, and there was an opportunity for that here at the university. There were those with the necessary knowledge, if only they would agree to share it.

  That seemed to be the common thread with everything at the university. There were those with knowledge and they needed to be willing to share.

  He’d seen it from the beginning. Some had a willingness to use their knowledge on those with the ability to pay. Others had the willingness to share knowledge with students. And still others simply wanted to practice, using their knowledge to heal. They didn’t teach, which meant their knowledge wasn’t passed on to those who followed after them.

  “I’ll think about it,” Alec said.

  Beckah smiled. “By that, you mean that you will consider it if your friend doesn’t come back to you.”

  Alec sighed. “Fine. I’ll consider it if Sam doesn’t return. Is that what you want me to say?”

  “I want you to admit what you’re doing. That’s all. There’s only so much you can learn by studying with your friend. At some point, you’ll run out of the paper, and then what will you do?”

  “We’ll find more.”

  “What if there isn’t more? What if the palace limits your supply to it? What if—”

  “I will consider it,” Alec said again.

  But what she said had merit. If he didn’t have access to enough paper, having someone like Master Eckerd who could instruct him would be valuable to him. If he had someone like that, he could learn tricks, techniques that he might not have considered on his own.

  Beckah watched him, saying nothing. She seemed to be studying him, the same way he would study someone who came to him with an illness. It made him uncomfortable, and he turned away rather than answering any more of her questions.

  Even if he went to Master Eckerd, would he be willing to share?

  The master physicker had invited him into the surgical suite and had continued to advance him through his training, so maybe he already had recognized that Alec had potential, and was intending to take advantage of that. Was there any way he could accelerate it? If he couldn’t, would that put him and Sam at a disadvantage somehow?

  And what did it even matter? Sam was training much the same as he was. Why would they need it to be accelerated? There were others who had the ability to counter the threat of the Thelns, especially now that they knew such a threat existed, and that they had penetrated so deeply into the city.

  Yet Alec couldn’t shake the idea that he and Sam had a role to play, and he had to be ready for it. If Sam wouldn’t return to him, it meant that he needed to do everything he could to be prepared.

  And if he had to force his way onto Master Eckerd, then that was what he would do.

  10

  Return to the Attack

  The splintered door to the building was a dead giveaway that something untoward had taken place in the building. Sam stood in front of it, averting her gaze from Elaine, avoiding meeting her mother’s eye. Instead, she looked along the street, wondering if anyone had noticed that the door was missing.

  “This was reinforced,” Elaine said.

  Sam turned her attention back to the door and realized that iron was worked into the frame, reinforcing it as Elaine had said. Tearing it free would have been difficult, even enhanced. How much of an augmentation had Alec given her?

  She needed to get to him before he got too upset. She’d made sure to send word to him, but it was one thing to alert him that she was unharmed and another entirely to avoid a visit, though in truth, Sam wasn’t avoiding him, really. She had been dragged back to the place of her captivity by her mother.

  “I was thinking only of getting free, I wasn’t thinking about the reinforcement.”

  “This would have taken considerable strength, Samara.”

  “Are you saying you don’t think I would have such strength?” She glanced over at Elaine, frowning at her. “Are you thinking that even with augmentations, I shouldn’t have been able to do it?”

  “You still have so much to learn,” Elaine said.

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “It has to do with the fact that there are limits to your abilities. If you waste them, if you risk them unnecessarily, you place not only yourself in danger, but you place your Scribe in danger.”

  Sam frowned as she studied the doorframe. Other than the iron that had been worked into it, there was nothing unique about it. Well, nothing other than the fact that it had been torn free, destroyed as Sam had exploded her way to freedom.

  “Alec wasn’t in any danger.”

  “Are you certain? You don’t even understand your abilities, and yet now, you make claims that he wouldn’t be placed in any danger by mixing his blood with yours to create a magical ink to use on the easar paper?”

  She had lowered her voice at the end, but she had made her point.

  When Sam used an augmentation, though it enhanced her abilities temporarily, there was a cost. Using augmentations took physical strength from her, and though she had grown more skilled with them, and had begun to handle the strength required in ways that she hadn’t before, she still felt the drawing of power from her as she used the augmentation.

  It was the same for Alec, though she didn’t know the extent. She’d seen how weakened he got when placing augmentations, but had that improved since they had started practicing more regularly, or did he still suffer the same way?

  Kyza. She hated working from a place of ignorance. More than that, she hated the way Elaine looked at her, treating her as ignorant, regardless of whether or not Sam was ignorant.

  “He was down here,” she said, pointing down the hall, deciding that it was better to redirect their attention.

  “And you left him, rather than thinking to bring him with you when you escaped?”

  “All I was thinking about was escape,” Sam said. She shouldn’t have to argue this, not with Elaine. Had she remained the man’s captive, would it have mattered?

  “Another sign of your lack of training. Had you more training, you would have thought about doing whatever it took to keep him in your custody.”

  Sam smirked at Elaine. “Custody? I’m not one of the city guards.”

  “No, you are not.” Disappointment laced her words.

  Elaine made her way along the hall, her canal staff gripped tightly in her hand. Every so often, she would tap it on the ground, reminding her of how Marin used to do the same thing. She didn’t know the purpose, but maybe Elaine would tell her if she asked, since she couldn’t ask Marin. The echo it made reverberated along the hall. Was there anything she learned by tapping her way along her path?

  At the end of the hallway, she paused in front of the other door that Sam had torn free. This one had not been reinforced, not in the way that the other had, but Elaine still ran her hand along the outside of it. When she was done, she glanced back at Sam, the frown that had been evident on her face before even more pronounced. “We will have to have words with your Scribe.”

  “Why?”

  “You need to understand the limits of your augmentations, Samara. These are dangerous.”

  Sam joined Elaine at the door and looked to see what had drawn her attention, but couldn’t find anything that would seem to matter. It was a broken door. It was made of a heavy oak, but even that shouldn’t have mattered. It wasn’t the stoutness of the wood that mattered when using an augmentation, it was more about how much force she used. And Alec had discovered that augmentations sometimes benefited from the nature of the words used on the easar paper. It wasn’t so much the ratio of blood used—though that was often part of the key to an augmentation—but how Alec documented what he was doing. In that, Sam thought Alec was better prepared than many at the university. That was a part of his training with his father, an advantage that few of the other Scribes had.

  “Why are these dangerous? What is it here that you’re concerned about?”

  “The fact that
you don’t recognize it is what troubles me.”

  “Then help me. Show me what it is that I’m supposed to be recognizing here.”

  Elaine considered her for a moment before breathing out heavily. She tapped on the doorframe. “Do you hear that?”

  “I hear you knocking. Am I supposed to hear anything more than that?”

  “Focus, Samara. What do you hear when I knock?”

  She knocked again, and Sam listened. It sounded no different from what any knock on wood would sound like, though there was almost a slight rattle to it. “Is the wood loose? Is that why it’s rattling?”

  “So, you do hear it.”

  “I don’t know. I’m not exactly sure what you’re trying to get me to hear,” she said. She knocked the same way that Elaine had, and focused again, listening to the wood, thinking that if there was a rattle, maybe it meant that something hid behind the doorframe. As before, it rattled, but it seemed to come from within the wood, vibrating against her hand.

  “I feel it almost as much as I hear it. Something behind it?”

  “There is intent behind it,” Elaine said.

  Sam smiled slightly. “Intent? What does that mean?"

  “What does your Scribe do when he uses the easar paper?”

  “He documents what he’s trying to accomplish,” Sam said. “He does it almost as if he’s trying to document an attempt to heal.”

  “Yes. Your Scribe has a unique approach, and it’s one that the other Scribes have attempted to replicate with some success.”

  “Other Scribes aren’t able to do things the same way as Alec?” That was news to her. She had thought that the easar paper had been the key for Kavers and Scribes, and she still thought it was, but maybe Alec’s training made him unique.

  “Easar paper is unique. Everyone has their own experience with it, and even experienced Scribes don’t always know how to best use it. Your Scribe found a way that was different from how most others use it.”

  “What do you mean by intent?”

  “What I mean is that easar paper is not the only way Scribes work. The key isn’t the paper. It’s a specific focus and intent.”