The guards blocking entrance to the university section glanced at her, taking in her cloak and the staff barely hidden beneath it. The staff was not new, but the cloak was, so different from the one she’d long ago taken from Marin that seemed to shed the shadows. This one bore the crest of the royal family. In the light, the crest glittered, taking on an undulating sort of pattern. Maybe the guards wouldn’t even ask her for the papers.
The nearest guard, a man with a wide face and a neatly trimmed beard, watched her through slitted eyes. He held his hand out, saying nothing to her, and took her documents without a word. He scanned them before holding them back out and waving her through.
She entered the university grounds and hurried forward, trying to ignore the same feeling she had every time she used her new-found connections—the feeling that left her feeling like a fraud.
In the distance, she caught sight of a familiar form. Alec? She almost called out to him before catching herself.
He was walking with another woman. She had deep brown hair and the straight back and fine clothes of a highborn. She looked up at him familiarly, and Alec smiled at her, the grin on his face more open and welcoming than any he’d had for Sam in quite some time.
What was she doing?
She shouldn’t feel guilty and shouldn’t feel jealous of Alec having friends at the university, but she couldn’t help that she did. It wasn’t that he was only supposed to have her as a friend, but here she’d been working and training, feeling isolated at the palace, while he was busy making friends, and possibly more, within the university.
She watched for a while longer before she turned away, ignoring the moisture on her cheek that was not a tear as she headed back across the bridge.
14
Foxglove Toxicity
Alec awoke with a pounding headache. He was lying on the cot and realized that he was in the hospital, other beds all around him with injured people. A woman with a medium length gray jacket made rounds nearby and stopped at cot after cot before reaching his.
“Good. You’re awake.”
Alec took a deep breath. “What happened?” he asked. His mouth felt thick, and his tongue dry. His head pounded, almost like he had had too much to drink.
“A training accident, from what Master Carl tells me,” the junior physicker said.
“I only took a pinch.”
“Indeed. Only a pinch. But was your pinch greater than your body can tolerate?”
He felt like an idiot. “How many others ended up here?” he asked. It had to be more than just Alec, didn’t it? He couldn’t have been the only person to have mistakenly over ingested the foxglove.
“Only you. It happens from time to time with the foxglove lesson, but it is rare. You’re lucky you woke up.”
“Lucky?”
The physicker shrugged. “Some don’t.”
Alec tried to sit up and realized that he wasn’t wearing anything beneath the sheets. Could he have died during the training? Why would Master Carl have let them try it were that the case?
“Where are my belongings?” He cared less about his clothes than he did about his books and the journals that he kept. Those were his most valuable possessions within the university.
“Everything you had is beneath the cot,” the woman said.
“Can I return to my studies?”
“You may return, but I would caution you to not exert yourself too much. Foxglove can linger in the bloodstream. You will find that there will be some strange side effects.”
Alec looked over at the physicker. He decided to ask her the question that had come to mind when he was in the session with Master Carl. “Why does it seem to last longer with some than others?”
The woman shrugged. “Foxglove is unpredictable. That is what makes it dangerous for so many. With some, the effect is short-lived.”
“Like most of my class?”
“Yes. Most will have some effect. They’ll notice that their heart slows, and they may even pass out, but in others, the effect lingers. We have not been able to determine what predisposes one person to such effect over another.”
“What is it that would keep someone in a perpetual slumber?”
The woman grinned. “Stories of men using foxglove to fake their own death are nothing more than that. Stories.”
“But Master Carl had a man in our room who he claimed was suffering from foxglove poisoning.”
Her brow furrowed for a moment. Then she shrugged. “It’s possible that Master Carl does have someone like that. If he does, I can’t say that I know anything about it. It’s something that he might have kept to the masters.”
Alec realized that he wasn’t going to get anything else from her, and waited for her to depart before reaching beneath the cot and grabbing his belongings. As she promised, everything of his remained there. There were his books, and thankfully, his journals. He grabbed his clothes and began to dress quickly, not wanting to be left in a state of undress were someone else to appear.
He started out of the hospital ward, leaning on an occasional cot for support. It was difficult for him. As she claimed, he was weaker than he realized.
Alec made his way out into the hallway and toward his room. All he wanted was rest. He hoped he could be granted that, though worried that perhaps he wouldn’t awaken if he did fall asleep.
Staggering down the hall, he finally reached his room. Once inside, he fell onto his bed and simply lay there, his mind racing. Why had he been affected this way? There was little doubt in his mind that Matthias, and probably some of the other students, would give him a hard time about what had happened. They’d probably taunt him about it.
As he lay on his bed, staring up at the smooth ceiling, he tried to think about foxglove. Something troubled him about it. The physicker in the hospital hadn’t realized that Master Carl had someone who had been poisoned by foxglove. It could simply be that Carl was more senior than she was at the university, but he wondered if maybe there was something more to it. Were they concealing something from Alec?
There was a knock, and Alec sat up, looking at the door. Who would come to his room?
He managed to stand but doing so was difficult and required strength that he didn’t have yet.
He pulled the door open, and Beckah stood on the other side, wearing a deep blue robe, the belt cinched around her waist. Her expression softened, and she let out a relieved sigh when she saw him. “I went to check on you in the hospital, but you weren’t there. They told me you were released.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said.
“Fine?” Beckah asked. “You nearly died.”
“And it’s something I’m sure others will be talking about,” Alec said.
“Only because they’re worried about you.”
He turned back to look at her. “Worried about me? I think that’s an overstatement. They might be interested in what happened, and they might have questions about why I can’t even handle a little foxglove, but…” Alec sighed.
“You were right,” she said. “We should have been monitoring how much we were administering to everyone. The dose was different. What was a pinch for you was not the same as a pinch for me.”
Alec hadn’t even thought he’d taken a full pinch. He’d torn a strip along the edge of the leaf, which shouldn’t have been enough to incapacitate him, certainly not when Beckah had taken a similar-sized sample and had done reasonably well.
“I don’t think it matters,” he said.
“Alec—”
He shook his head and cut her off. “Listen. I was wrong. I got too hung up on feeling like something was… unusual, and I made a claim I shouldn’t have.”
“You’re still worried about that?” she asked.
“I don’t think anyone else is going to let me live that one down.”
She shrugged. “You’re not from the same section of the city as most of us. People’s beliefs are different elsewhere in the city.”
Alec closed his eyes, resisti
ng the urge to contradict her. It had nothing to do with which section of the city he was from. Had he been asked even just several months ago what could have caused the state of the man they’d seen in the lecture hall, he never would have leaped to the possibility of some magical cause. That was because of his time with Sam.
Yet there were magical things in the world. Alec had seen firsthand the way that different powers could manifest, using something as simple as his own blood to write on paper.
No, it had nothing to do with his beliefs, and more to do with what he’d experienced. But he couldn’t speak of it to anyone. He had to keep that concealed, otherwise Sam and Elaine, and the other Kavers who studied in the palace would be in danger. Alec didn’t want to be responsible for that.
“What’s bothering you?” Beckah asked.
“I’m bothered by the fact that I made a fool of myself.”
“How did you make a fool of yourself? You offered an answer.”
“An answer that Master Carl thought was ridiculous.”
“He’s not the only one who thought it was ridiculous,” she said. She smiled, and Alec couldn’t help but smile along with her. The easiest thing for him to do would be to tell her and admit what he was capable of doing, but he didn’t dare do that without having Sam’s permission, because they were really a team. It was not his decision, but their decision.
“It still doesn’t make sense,” Alec said.
“What doesn’t make sense? You saw—and experienced—the way that foxglove works.”
“I did, and I also saw how quickly you recovered from your dose.”
“And you didn’t recover that quickly. You were out for nearly eight hours,” she said.
Eight hours? He’d not been told how long, nor had he asked when he awoke in the hospital. The other man—the one who had been poisoned by foxglove—had been out at least that long.
There was a way to test it, but that meant he had to find this thistle root.
Not only that, but he had to find the man to test it on.
“I’ve seen that look in your eyes before,” Beckah said.
“You’ve not seen any look before.”
“Sure I have. You have a look to your face that tells me you intend to do something you think is stupid.”
Alec shrugged. “Maybe you have seen that look on my face before. But that doesn’t mean I will do something or that it’s stupid.”
“No? What do you intend to do then?”
“I want to know why I had the reaction I did and why that man remains unconscious. Unless he’s regained consciousness in the last eight hours.”
Beckah shook her head. Alec was not surprised by that but had the man awakened, it would have changed his thinking a little bit. He would have had no choice but to accept that what Master Carl told him was accurate. That it was just an overdose of foxglove.
And why shouldn’t he believe that?
“I’m going to visit my father,” he said.
“You know what time it is?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Does it matter? My father will be happy to see me.” He hoped that was true. But given the hour, his father might not even be in his shop.”
“Good. I have wanted to visit one of the famed apothecary shops found in that section of the city.”
Alec looked at her askance. “Famed apothecaries?” he asked. “There’s only my father’s shop.”
“That makes it easier. I don’t have to visit quite so many.”
Alec sighed and shook his head, but had to admit to himself that having company—especially Beckah—would make the trip across the city more palatable.
15
In the Apothecary
This is where you grew up?” Beckah asked in a hushed tone.
Alec glanced over. She had grown increasingly quiet the farther they got away from the university section and approached some of the outer sections. With each bridge they crossed, they went farther and farther away from the center of the city, and closer to a place that Alec had long considered home. He still considered it home, even though he hadn’t resided there for many months.
“This is where,” he said.
“You’re practically lowborn,” she said before clamping her hand over her mouth. “I mean, it’s a nice merchant section.”
A hint of a smile crossed his face. “Practically. We never considered ourselves that when we were here, but the more I’ve gotten to know other people in the city, and other sections of the city, I’ve come to realize that I really was practically lowborn.”
Sam wouldn’t see it that way. Sam saw herself as lowborn and saw anyone else anywhere near the inner sections of the city as highborn. It was an endearing quality about Sam that he’d always been amused by. She tended to pay more attention to things like that than Alec ever did, though in her defense, she had never been anything other than a lowborn. He had the advantage of being raised in a place where he might have been viewed as between classes, but he was much closer to highborn than he was to lowborn.
“Why would your father choose this section to establish his apothecary?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he likes the people. Maybe he liked the access.”
“Access? What kind of access do you get all the way out here?”
“You know, there are other sections of the city.”
“I know. You can go far beyond this, and you get deep into those lowborn sections. Kyza knows what would happen to you if you weren’t careful there.”
“Nothing will happen to you there. I’ve spent a lot of time all the way out in Caster, and rarely did I feel threatened.”
“You’re a strange man, Alec.”
Alec shrugged as he turned down the familiar street toward his father’s shop. He glanced at the nearby buildings, wondering who might still be awake. Mrs. Rubbles had a lantern lit, so he suspected she was awake, but no other shops were. Even his father’s shop was darkened.
“Which one is yours?”
Alec led her to the apothecary and knocked on the door. He waited but doubted his father would be there. He tested the handle and found it locked. Thankfully, since his last visit, his father had given him a key. Alec fished it out of his bag and unlocked the door, pushing it open to the soft tinkling of the bell over the door, and stepped inside.
Beckah hesitated and watched him for a moment before following him in.
Once she’d joined him inside, he closed the door and locked it. He didn’t want someone entering the shop while they searched for the thistle root.
“It’s so dark,” Beckah said.
Alec fumbled forward, trying to use his memory of the new shop’s layout, thankful that it was somewhat similar to the one he’d grown up in. This one was different, but it was similar enough that he was able to find his way to the tables in the middle of the shop. He suspected he would find a lantern there.
He did. Alec fumbled a moment until he managed to get it lit, casting a soft orange glow over the room.
Beckah’s eyes widened as they adjusted, and she peered around, holding her breath. “This is an apothecary shop?” she asked.
“It is. This is the kind of apothecary shop that my father runs. I don’t know what others might be like.” He hadn’t actually ever been to any other apothecary shops. What need would he have?
She stopped at one of the shelves, and her hand ran along the row of jars there. “All of this is medicine,” she said.
Alec laughed softly. “Yes. What did you think we would have?”
She glanced over at him. “I never expected you to have the same capabilities as they have in the hospital.”
She tapped one of the shelves and lifted the jar. “They don’t even have some of these in the hospital, do they?”
“My father has unique sources for various things. I don’t think many at the university have the same access he manages.”
Beckah continued along the row of shelves, stopping at a few before continuing on. Every so often, her breath caugh
t, and she muttered something softly to herself, though he never was clear what that was. She slowly made her way through the shop before coming back to the center and leaning on one of the tables.
“It seems I’ve underestimated you,” she said.
“How so?”
“Well, when you’ve spoken of the things you’ve seen and done, I think part of me has always believed that maybe you weren't entirely honest.”
“Everything I’ve said has been the truth.”
Beckah grunted. “Yes. I can see that now. What I’d like to know is how your father managed to obtain such supplies. Some of the things here are obscure, things that the masters would love to have access to.”
“As I said, my father has a unique ability to acquire various medicines. I think he takes a strange sort of pride in being able to find things that the university believes impossible to source.”
“Such as thistle root.”
Alec shrugged. “Things like that,” he agreed.
“Well?” she said.
Alec arched a brow. “Well what?”
“Does he have any?”
Alec hadn’t looked yet, he’d been preoccupied watching her explore the shop. “Why don’t we take a look?”
Alec walked over to one wall. He wasn’t certain if his father even had thistle root here. But if it was going to be anywhere, Alec suspected he would find it along this row. This was where his father stored a variety of roots, though Alec didn’t have the entire row of plants memorized, not as his father did.
Most of them had labels, and the labels were really for Alec’s benefit, not so much for his father, who had no need for labels as he was often the one who had collected them. Alec scanned the row of roots before finding what he sought. He pulled it out and glanced at the jar. The root was a deep black and strangely twisted. There were small forms along the edge, and he had no idea how it was used to counteract the foxglove.
Poisoned: The Book of Maladies Page 10
