by Marian Gray
“A breakthrough on what? A cure or temporary fix?” I asked.
“Well, what I hope will be a cure. But it is just as I had assumed from the beginning. In order to rectify the situation, you will require surgery.”
After my chemistry class with Professor Saviano, surgery no longer seemed so drastic. But when I reconsidered with a cool head and silent heart, I was reluctant to go under the knife. “If I agree to this surgical procedure you’re preparing, what do you think would be the worst possible outcome?”
“Complete and absolute loss of your powers.” He blinked, unmoved by how devastating that statement was. “Or you’ll come out worse than when you went in. Any sort of damage or interference with the flesh will alter your magic one way or another. Given that surgery on the hands is illegal, we more readily see a negative effect. However, I quite confident in my ability and knowledge and believe we will see a positive outcome for you. After all, this procedure will be tailored specifically for you and for your hands.”
Before coming to Blacksaw, I had spent three months listening to my family go on and on about how my only saving grace was that I wasn’t a flup. If I let Dr. Raby slice and dice my hands and came out lacking all magic, would I essentially then be a flup? Wouldn’t all of my family’s fears be realized in that single moment?
“That being said, you don’t have to make a decision at the present moment. My research isn’t there yet. For now, I’ll try another injection with different oils. However, this can only be used once. As the body will memorize these oils and attack them aggressively in the future” he explained.
I swallowed hard and nodded. “Whatever to get me through finals.” Saviano’s scolding still stung despite it being a week since the incident.
Dr. Raby began pulling out his instruments as he always did, starting with the glass jars of oils and moving onto the needles and cotton balls. “How is school going for you by the way? Aside from the incident with Professor Saviano.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Okay I guess. Pwofese Middlemiss still hasn’t managed to approach me about that whole event, not that I’ve really let her try. I dart out of the classroom as soon as time is up and dodge her in the hallways.” I scratched my head. “Still haven’t been able to figure out why Chancellor Day hasn’t sent me a summons though. By now I assumed Middlemiss would have told her, but I’m not about to go up and ask her why she’s hesitating.”
Dr. Raby smiled reassuringly. “Probably for the best.”
I continued, “biology is all right, I guess. The oils make it bearable. But I can tell Professor Robben is disappointed with me. I haven’t shown that awesome power that the Ebenmores have become associated with. And what makes it worse is that they all lay blame at my father’s feet for my lack—a man that continues to be a mystery to me.”
“I can see how that would be a sore subject for you.” Dr. Raby spooned a dark black oil into the mix of numerous opaques. “But, genetically speaking, they’re not wrong. You could be average, without a familial ability if he is a commoner. If he’s a highborn, you have his familial gift instead. Not all of these special abilities are in-your-face and blatant. Some of them have a more passive nature.”
I nodded, soaking in all he had to say. I really enjoyed my visits with Dr. Raby. Despite his seemingly irksome appearance, he was calm, collected, and personable. He didn’t make me feel like a freak, and as soon as I walked through his door, all expectations and pressures lifted from my shoulders. Not to mention, the man was filled with a wealth of knowledge. Sometimes I wished he were my biology teacher.
“Well, let’s just say I’m not holding my breath for that last option.” At this point, convincing myself that my father was a commoner was way more palatable than having to believe that he was a highborn and I was terrible hand. “And then, there’s the students. It’s difficult to fit in. “
“Why do you say that?” He pressed the needle to my skin. “Are they still keeping you at arms length, placing you on a pedestal?”
It was an apt description of my experience when I first arrived at Blacksaw, but it was no longer that way. “No, it’s just…” My mind flashed back to the small moment Idris and I had in the library. “It’s just that everyone seems to be courting, and I’m the only one left standing at the dance without a date.”
He set the needle down, picked up another and filled it with the gray oil. “I’m sure it’s not difficult for you to believe, but I had the same problem at Blacksaw. The party likes to promote the ideal man as being athletic, strong, courageous, and the ultimate alpha male.” He chuckled. “Look at me. I’m a birch tree with a big brain stuck on top. I’m not the ideal and on top of that”—he paused and met my eyes—“I’m not straight.”
“Party doesn’t approve?”
He shook his head. “No. The number of hands is in decline, and the party has spent nearly a century encouraging families to birth children. I’m sure you can see where homosexuals don’t fit into that plan.” He took a breath before he continued. “On the bright side, I think this moment will pass, and it’s the last thing you should be worrying about.”
He stuck another needle into my palm, and I barely felt it. The whole process had become so routine at this point. “I just don’t understand. What about me is so off-putting?”
Dr. Raby snickered. It was the first time I had ever seen him laugh. “You’re a part of the aristocracy. Nobody is looking for a life long commitment at nineteen.” He patted my arm. “But don’t worry. Even those that most wouldn’t find conventionally attractive still get courted and married after graduation. There is a good blackhand man waiting for you.”
My breath seized. “And that’s another thing. Why do commoners get to date outside the ink but highborns don’t? Amber and Kayla are courting whitehands, and all four of them seem to be rather happy.”
He glanced up at me from his work, there was an unmistakable sizzle to his gaze. I couldn’t tell if he was angry with me for asserting such a notion or upset over the two girls being with the whitehands.
“Unfortunately, there are some things commoners are allowed to get away with that the noblesse are not. But as I said, don’t fret over it. Put it out of your mind. Your studies and overcoming your condition should be your focus.”
I nodded. He was right. I needed to focus on myself, not boys.
He wrapped his gloved hand around mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’s going to be okay. You have so many successful and powerful highborn blackhands watching over you. All of them are eager to guide you and see what you become. They’ll help keep your feet on the right path, and all you’ll need to do is simply take a step and walk.”
“I know and I feel absolutely miserable and disgusted with myself for admitting this, but sometimes I just wish I could be a commoner. A nobody, another face in the crowd, free from societal bindings and rules.” And most importantly, I wanted to be free to like who I liked, court who I wanted to court, and kiss who I wanted to kiss.
I had been attracted to Idris ever since I first laid eyes on him. And then to finally have a moment, where the veil is lifted and we are no longer afraid of each other… The little we had been brave enough to take was already being torn from our hands.
“Have you spoken to your family recently?” Dr. Raby asked.
“No, in fact I haven’t spoken to them at all since I arrived at Blacksaw.” I’d been so busy that time just blew by me. It felt like only yesterday I was waving goodbye to them at the station.
“Good. Then they’re following my instructions.” Dr. Raby straightened my left hand, and placed tiny marker dots where he intended to insert the needles. “I doubt you’ve heard what’s been going on outside in the world, as Blacksaw tries to shield you guys is much as possible, but things are heating up.”
“What do you mean? Is my family in danger?” I hadn’t forgotten the visit the Sightless Sons paid us before I left.
“No, but the ever-watching eye of the party is open wider t
han usual now and things are about to get more difficult, I suspect.”
“In what way?”
“Protests have been popping up in Easternboar over the assaults here at Blacksaw.”
“You mean the Hand Collector copycat?”
Dr. Raby did a double take. “Yes, how do you know that name?”
“People talk.”
“Anyway, they haven’t issued the directive yet, but Chancellor Day suspects that the Sightless Sons could potentially come to Blacksaw next semester.”
As though an ice pick had been driven straight into my chest, my heart froze. The crippling, icy panic spread along my arms and down my legs and up my neck until it consumed me. If the Sightless Sons came, all my words and actions would be reviewed under a microscope. The chances of me being found out as a snuffed hand skyrocketed. I doubt I would ever be able to see Idris again. Then, I ran the risk of not being able to finish my treatment with Dr. Raby which meant the sole purpose for me attending Blacksaw was at a close. I came here to learn how to protect my mom.
If my condition was discovered, my career here as a student was over.
“When will we know for sure if the party is sending them?”
“Winter break.”
“You do realize how devastating this could be for me?”
He nodded. “Oh, absolutely. That’s why I’m telling you. You need to start preparing now.”
“How do you suggest I do that?”
“Solidify your friendships and talk to your aunt and uncle about the surgical procedure over winter break. I’ll need some time to arrange things in order to pull it off right beneath their noses.”
I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes, blowing out a big long breath of air. This bit of news made it feel like the sky was falling. I didn’t open my eyes again until I knew for sure I wasn’t going to crumble. I turned my head as Dr. Raby finished up his work, needing something to take my mind off of the impending doom.
But his office always looked the same. It was full of books, crystal distillation equipment, medical tools, and an entire wall of shelves dedicated to all sorts of carbon-based life. He never cleaned. I noticed it was only ever tidy after one of his two apprentices had stopped by.
And then my eyes stopped when I met a curious photograph. It was framed in a simple wood and rested atop the mantle of his fireplace. In it, was a group of young faces. One of which I recognized. “Do you know Nicholas Adder?”
“Yes, he’s on the Board of Trustees.”
I pointed to the photograph. “No, I mean personally.” They couldn’t have been more than thirty years old in the picture.
“Oh, that.” Dr. Raby smiled to himself. “That was a fun summer. A group of Blacksaw alumni met up to spend the season on the lake together. That’s when I really got to know Nicholas. He had some emergency that delayed his arrival, but regardless, we really bonded over that small time that we had together. He said he felt as though I was the only one he could talk to about the troubling event.”
I understood that sentiment pretty well. “You are a really good friend. Thank you.”
Dr. Raby turned his smile to me. “It means a lot to hear you say that. I’m honored.” He placed the final needle on the medical table. “And that’s the last of it. As I said, this is a different combination of oils, so take it easy. Good luck with your finals, and I’ll see you when you get back from winter break.”
I stood up from my chair, thanked him for his time, and traipsed over to the door. We weren’t very close, but I was disheartened to know that this would be the last time I saw Dr. Raby for a few months. Whenever my life became dark and confusing, he was always a beacon of light that restarted my mind and helped get me going again. Hopefully, I wouldn’t need that over the winter break.
But I never knew what life would throw at me. It had turned into a wicked roller coaster ever since my eighteenth birthday.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Finals arrived in the blink of an eye. Instead of venturing out to Lilledoorn with Amber, Kayla, and the other girls in the cluster, Ross and I stayed in to study. Ross had no reason to be nervous about the tests. All of her marks so far had been average or above average. I, on the other hand, felt as though I were going to war.
The new batch of oils that Dr. Raby had given me were working well, and most importantly, they were lasting. I hadn’t realized far behind in ability I had become due to a month without in my hand until mock practicals were underway. I struggled to pull several essences that the others could do without issue, and some pushes felt awkward to pull off.
To make up for this, I enlisted Anouk’s help. She was wary, confused even, and asked why I even needed her help in the first place. I lied, saying I had injured my wrist a few weeks ago, and the injury had set me back.
She bought it and with that came plenty of time to observe my suspect and grow closer to her. However, in that time all I learned was that Anouk was exactly who I had painted her out to be: confident, proud, and bigoted.
I was rather proud of my performance during the tests. I wouldn’t call it stellar or even exemplary, but I was at least able to do what they asked of me, and that was a lot for a snuffed hand.
When winter break came upon us, our cluster through a huge going away party, and I boarded the tram to Rotterpool the next day. Uncle Hank and Aunt Margot were there, waiting on the platform when I arrived. Uncle Hank wrapped me in his arms as soon as I stepped foot off the tram.
Aunt Margot talked nonstop the first week I was home, hungry for every detail. We mulled over my chambermates, professors, friends, and any other morsel that Aunt Margot desired to savor. Her excitement didn’t ebb until we neared Christmas. Unfortunately, my mom was unable to attend, as she was at a support group potluck. Somehow she had managed to find a motley crew of magical rejects who she now spent most of her time with.
As the three of us sat in the family room, rummaging through the new gifts we had received, the family tapestry caught my eye once again. I started from the top with Roman Ebenmore and read my way down until I came to my own face.
“I have something to ask, but I know you two won’t want to discuss it.”
Aunt Margot leaned forward in her chair. “What on earth could that be? I like to think that your uncle and I are rather progressive and open-minded.”
I glanced down at my hands, studying the black ink in the mehndi design for the hundredth time in my life. “The Imperial Black.”
Aunt Margot’s jowls quivered. “I concede my point. You’re right.”
Uncle Hank shuffled in his chair, not wanting to retreat as Aunt Margot had. “What is it you want to ask?”
“Well,” I began, “as I am sure you all assumed would happen, I receive a lot of comments and questions about the Imperial Black. One highborn classmate is actively searching for the society and regularly asks me if I’ve made contact yet. Then, during one of my classes, a whitehand professor made a comment to the extent that I was expected to reinstate the Imperial Black.”
Aunt Margot’s wide mouth flipped into a frown. “I didn’t expect them to thwart her this hard in her first year.”
Uncle Hank ran a hand down his face inside. “What’s your question, Zuri?”
“I want to know why.”
Uncle Hank shifted to the end of his armchair and rested his hands in his lap. “Why don’t we start with you telling me what you know about the Imperial Black so far.”
I drew in a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. I had received so many conflicting comments and information but I hadn’t formed my own opinion.
“That they’re not as bad as everyone makes them out to be. That whatever they did in the past was met with an overreaction on part of both the school and the party. And that the continued shaming and demonizing is just whitehand propaganda.”
Aunt Margot’s pale eyebrows lifted. “Sounds like you’ve been talking to a lot of blackhands in high places.”
“Well, is anything that I said
wrong?” I asked.
“I’m not exactly sure,” Uncle Hank said. “Because that all occurred before my time. Blacksaw disavowed the Imperial Black just after my mother graduated.”
“Well, what did they do? What is so awful that they had to be disbanded?”
“They murdered people and fostered hatred,” Aunt Margot said. “They were everything that we are supposed to be moving away from. The whole promise of the party—The Gray Reconciliation Party—was to unite blackhands and whitehands. The Imperial Black only served to destroy that dream.”
“But that’s not the original intent of the group. The Imperial Black started as a secret society for the black noblesse. It was like an underground society, a community that built strong bonds between the blackhand aristocracy, and that’s why the whitehands and the party hated it. They were afraid of the power and strength it provided to the blackhands.”
Aunt Margot’s mouth was agape. “Hank, I can’t even believe the words that are coming out of your mouth.” She turned to me. “When the universities were desegregated, the Imperial Black was enraged. They didn’t want white ink at the school as they put it. So, they endorsed the commoners bullying the new students, and eventually that bullying turned into violence and mass murder. The Imperial Black brought upon us a tragedy that hands have never experienced before or hence.”
“How many people died?”
“Nearly the entire first year class of entering white hands. And I’m sure they would’ve gone after the upper classmen as well if the Sightless Sons hadn’t stepped in.” Her face reddend. “Absolutely disgusting and despicable behavior.”
“I’m not saying it wasn’t, but do you see how their mission and promise warped from inception to the conclusion? When blackhands speak of the Imperial Black, they see it through rose-colored glasses of what was in the beginning. Whitehands see it for what it became and the threat to their dominion that it was.”