“Sir,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron as she approached the empty fountain. Her habits had betrayed her. There was no water to clean her hands with. “Is there a reason you called me during such a late hour? I was making my rounds.”
“How many have you seen die?” he asked.
“More than I care to remember,” Mira had replied. “More than I care to dwell upon.”
“I will be brief and direct with you,” Francis said. He never took his gaze off the statue. She realized that he was avoiding looking her in the eye. “Strange men arrived at my office today. They have given me an offer that I fear I must accept.”
“You’re selling your share of the hospital? Could they really part with eight whole pieces of silver?”
Francis laughed at that. “If only. No, my friend. They have given Saint Jarick’s a real chance to bring healing back to the city. They have a way to carry magic. The Cimirite, if you’ve heard of it.”
“Only in the murmur of rabble on the street,” Mira said.
“The murmur is true,” Francis replied. He sighed deeply. “These criminals have found a way to create healing spells. Spells that cure disease, plagues, poxes. Anything.”
How Mira’s heart had leapt at the news. So many men and women had already died needlessly, simply because the medical staff had not been trained in conventional methods of healing. Like Mira, they had spent years studying and perfecting their understanding of healing magics, so that they could wave a hand and mend a bleeding heart. Giving a mage a needle and demand they stitch someone up had led to many deaths.
“This is good news, sir!”
“The cost is high,” Francis whispered. “But worth it.”
“I will give whatever money I can,” Mira said. “I’m sure most of the staff would agree to pay cuts as well. Whatever it takes to get magic flowing through this hospital again.”
Francis finally turned to look at her. He shook his head. “They don’t want money. They get it through other means. No, the healing is free. But in order to produce enough crystals so that we keep a steady supply available at all times, they’re going to need people to come work for them.”
“Oh…” Mira said. “And you’re leaving?”
“I can’t. I have much to worry about here,” Francis replied. “So, I’m sending you in my stead.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Mira, the world has changed. These crystals don’t require any training to use. You just hold them and will them to activate. Like a wand, except even easier. So, we don’t need mages or wizards. Hell, I could just hire a dozen street urchins and they’d do better than our current staff.”
“I see,” Mira said. “And so, I am to serve these criminals how?”
“They were vague. Apparently, Elias, the leader, wants people that he can trust to run different parts of the city. But he doesn’t just want to hire people who are motivated by money. He figured that the hospital would be full of goody-two shoes who’d be willing to get their hands dirty for the good of Glimmer.”
“Run a part of the city?” Mira asked. “I can’t…I mean, I wouldn’t know how.”
“You’ve run this hospital plenty. Dispatched workers kept things moving smoothly. Even with the recent transitions, you’ve kept morale up and ensured we kept some level of efficiency,” Francis replied. “You have my utmost confidence.”
Those had been the last words he said before giving her a map, a key and a hug goodbye. Francis wasn’t much for emotion or explanations, so she should have been thankful for what he had told her. If she hadn’t earned his respect so much, he most likely would have just told her to go do whatever Elias said. Her oath to the hospital meant that he had the final word on her orders. Francis was at the top of Saint Jarick’s hierarchy.
Lady Mira stopped as she reached the warehouse. It didn’t look particularly special. It was the same as all the other buildings, large, square and beige. The windows were boarded up, giving the impression that the building was long abandoned. But the instructions on the map were clear.
She took a deep breath. If this was the only way to ensure that Saint Jarick’s was able to operate effectively, so be it. She had taken a sacred vow, to serve the sick and needy of Glimmer for all of her life. She would die before she abandoned her duties. No matter what, Glimmer’s health came first. There was no excuse. This was no different than performing surgery. At least, that’s what she told herself.
She opened the door after fiddling with the key for a few seconds and walked in. A tall, black haired man dressed in leather armor and carrying a mace at his side was waiting for her in the walkway.
“Greetings,” he said, nodding to her. “You must be Mira.”
“And you are Markov?” she asked.
He nodded again. “Right you are. This way, please. We’ve been waiting for you.”
Captain Markov was the leader of the city watch. Mira had seen his injured men brought into the hospital many times in the past, but never met him. After the magic ban, no members of the watch required medical care. They ceased arriving in the middle of the night, backs full of arrows and screaming for help. His association with Elias must be the reason why.
She followed Markov through the dimly lit building, into a large room. Dozens of glowing crystals lined the wall, lighting the room up as if it were daytime. A map was in the center of the room, with dozens of territorial markings. She eyed it, curious as to the nature of it. All she could understand was that the map was of Glimmer. The rest of the markings made no sense to her.
“Elias, I bring you Lady Mira of Saint Jarick’s,” Markov said, bowing deeply to a man sitting behind a wooden desk. He was thin and frail looking, far from the shadowy man that Mira had pictured in her head.
“Ah, excellent,” Elias said as he stood up. He waved to a chair. “Please, take a seat. You may leave us for now, Markov.”
Markov nodded and left without saying a word. Mira complied with the instructions and sat in the chair across from Elias.
“Would you care for some brandy?” Elias asked as he poured himself a glass from an oval shaped decanter. “It’ll warm you up from the dreadful cold of this place.”
Mira shook her head. “My vows prevent me from drinking.”
Elias shrugged at that. “A shame. But far be it from me to judge a woman for holding to her standards. Integrity is a virtue.”
Mira said nothing. She didn’t know what to say. She merely crossed her legs and waited.
Elias continued, taking note of her discomfort. “I apologize for meeting with you so late, but the later the better. If things go well for us, you won’t be seeing much of me and I won’t be seeing much of you. You are here because of Francis Domot’s recommendation. How much did he tell you?”
“Not much, I’m afraid,” Mira said. “He said I am to serve you for the good of our hospital.”
“I’m sure you are aware of what we provide,” Elias said. “Magic, pure and simple. This operation sells Cimirite to customers, people who don’t agree with the magic ban. It is a dangerous but extremely profitable operation.”
“And extremely illegal,” Mira added.
Elias smiled at that. “Legalities are formalities when you have enough power.”
“And you think you have enough power to stop Kalimar’s men from coming down on you?”
“We’ve already handled it. Kalimar’s people are just as susceptible to bribery as any common criminal. They’ll stay away from us as long as they get a cut.”
Mira nodded. “Let us pray that is the case. So, what do you wish of me?”
Elias stood and walked over to the map. “Glimmer is a large city. We only have a fraction of the business that I want. But in order to get that kind of business, I need people who can run multiple districts for me. Individuals who I can trust, individuals who can run things on their own. You find the proper headquarters, you get your own clients and footholds, and the only thing you send me is orders. When orders
are fulfilled, you and your people get paid a percentage of what we take in.”
Mira turned in her chair and listened to his words. “You wish me to run one of these operations on my own?”
“I asked for someone who I could trust. Your name came up. I checked around,” Elias said. “You are a shining example of the model citizen. You’re honest, kind and above all, charitable. There is no kindness you would withhold from anyone, even those who have harmed you.”
“And that makes for a good criminal?” Mira asked.
Elias chuckled at that. “No, it makes for a good business associate. Listen, Mira. This may be somewhat of a criminal act but that is a mere technicality. In truth, what we provide is a service that is ultimately going to help the city.”
“Laws are meant to be upheld,” Mira said. “Saint Jarick’s words were strict about that.”
“Then by all means, walk away,” Elias said. He gestured towards the door. “You are not obligated to be here. But our ability to sustainably create enough crystals to keep the hospital fully stocked is highly dependent on larger profits. We can’t get those without people like you, who are willing to take on a part of the business and keep it growing.”
“You say it like there’s not a death penalty attached to this job,” Mira replied. She shook her head. “I’m no fool. You blithely speak as if there is no real risk, but the moment you get caught, all of your associates will die.”
“Perhaps,” Elias said. “But how many will die in this city if we don’t act?”
Mira looked at the sternness in Elias’ face. Was he an actor, simply pretending to care so that she would acquiesce to his request? Or did he genuinely want to provide Glimmer with medical help? She couldn’t tell. Her powers of observation had withered away with the installation of the Luminous Artifact. Saint Jarick’s blessing was unable to aid her here.
“You make a compelling point,” Mira said. “How do I start?”
Elias grinned. “It is quite simple. Recruit some people within your hospital, people that you trust beyond all doubt. I’ll assign you several districts to watch over. You’ll be responsible for running the rest. I want there to be layers of separation between myself and the rest of the operators. You’re on your own.”
“That seems to be a tall order, I have no idea how to start,” Mira replied.
“I’ll share what I can,” Elias said. “But after tonight, we don’t meet again unless it’s a serious emergency. We only communicate by letter. Do you know how to encrypt?”
“I was a mage, so yes. I understand the principle,” Mira said.
“Good. Now, pay attention. There is much we need to cover,” he said as he began to draw upon the map. “Let’s talk about the many applications of Cimirite.”
The coins poured out of the purse. Hundreds of gold pieces shined brightly as Lady Mira inspected them. These coins were worth more than the meager cot, the candle and her apartment combined. Five hundred gold for loose spending, three rubies for major purchases and a single emerald for the headquarters. Altogether, Mira had nearly 100,000 gold sitting on her bed. She had never seen so much money in her life. Fortunate for her, she had never taken a vow of poverty.
The money was meant for greater things, however. With Elias’ instructions ringing fresh in her ears, she had a bevy of tasks to perform. At first, she had questioned the possibility of her achieving everything he wanted, but once he handed her the bag of valuables, the question quickly vanished. Money talks far more than words.
She sat in patient silence, waiting for her three partners to arrive. They were all from the hospital, but unlike herself, they had not taken vows to Saint Jarick. They were well-meaning volunteers who joined after the magic had left. Of her entire staff, she could trust them the most because they were truly willing to wade through the difficulties of learning an entire method of medicine. All three of them were also ex-wizards and natural born Glimmer citizens. They would have no difficulty accepting her proposal, at least, she hoped.
Finally, a knock on the door and a voice greeted her. It was Charles. “Lady Mira!” he cried. “Open up!”
She opened the door and smiled wide. “Come on in, Charles!” she said. Charles was a big, burly man but with a gentle spirit. He was a joker with a deeply morbid sense of humor. The terrible deaths that he had witnessed while working in the hospital just seemed to slide off of him. He would simply wash his hands, tell a joke and keep moving.
Behind him was Freckles, a short, quiet woman who was often mistaken for shy. She rarely spoke, not because she had social anxieties, but because most people didn’t deserve to hear her opinions. At least, that was what she had confided in Mira when they first sat down for a real conversation. Freckles, her real name unknown to Mira, had been a teacher at one of the local magic colleges, before everything was shut down. When the college closed for good, she chose to remain in her hometown and sought to care for the ill and the infirm.
And last was Mira’s good friend, Prestin. Prestin was a scientist who viewed magic through natural lenses, choosing to eschew the spiritual and mystical side for what he called natural sciences. His fascination with the practical meant that he was handy enough to learn the art of surgery from one of the visiting doctors. At least, he was able to learn it better than the rest of the staff. Prestin got along well with Mira and she trusted his instincts. She’d need him by her side if she was to navigate through this new world unscathed.
“What is all of that?” Freckles asked. Normally she would have kept silent much longer into the conversation, but upon seeing the pile of money, she was as loud as the rest of her team.
“Someone’s been stealing from the dead,” Charles said. “Did you call this meeting to share the wealth?”
“I hope there’s some reasonable explanation for this,” Prestin said, crossing his arms and pushing his spectacles up.
“Calm down, everyone,” Mira said as she took a few gold coins from off the bed. She gestured to the ground. “Please, have a seat. There’s much for me to share.”
And so, she shared everything. The plan, the reason for the wealth and most importantly, the opportunity to bring real, magical healing into the community once again. Questions were asked, and clarifications were given, but just as she had suspected, none of them seemed abhorred at the idea. They were all Glimmerites, after all, and what unified her people more than anything was a genuine dislike of being told what to do.
“And so, I need you three to join me as partners in this endeavor. I know it’s not ideal and it certainly breaches the lines of the law, but at the end of it all, we are fighting against forces that claim lives every day,” Mira entreated. “We could save many more lives.”
“And make a hell of a lot more money while we’re at it,” Charles said, eying the pile on the bed. “We’re getting paid for this, right?”
Mira nodded. “Yes, of course. I’m authorized to pay a percentage of what we earn to anyone working with me.”
“It seems dangerous,” Freckles said. “But I’d do anything to get my hands on some magic again.”
Mira glanced at Prestin, who had said little during the discussion. “What about you?” she asked. “Can I count you in?”
Prestin shrugged. “I thought you took vows that prevented this kind of behavior,” he said. “Vows to obey the laws and always do what’s right.”
“I’m not sure those two ideals can coexist right now,” Mira said. “One crystal can replace the hacksaws we’re using to treat gangrene. Women giving birth won’t lose their lives or their babies.”
“But that doesn’t change your oath,” Prestin replied. “You took a sacred vow. How can I follow someone who violates it?”
“Don’t be such a stickler,” Charles said. “You can’t possibly believe that if Saint Jarick were here, that he wouldn’t take this deal. The man was a healer first and everything second. He was only deified after he died.”
“I don’t worship the man,” Prestin said. His harsh ga
ze made Mira squirm a little. “But Mira does. And she would betray her beliefs for what?”
“I would not betray them, I would modify them, so they work together,’ Mira said. “I can’t keep both vows. A vow to follow the law and a vow to bring healing to those who need it are at war right now. I’m choosing to follow the one that will bring the most good to this world. And I’ve botched too many surgeries to believe that our current course of action is little more than butchery.”
Prestin slowly nodded at those words. “And you won’t take a copper for what you’re doing? That’s the only way I can trust your intentions.”
“Oh, I’m certainly getting paid!” Charles protested.
Theft, Murder, and Crystals Page 25
