If his time studying with his father had taught him anything, it was how to be cautious, sometimes almost too cautious.
When Alec reached the top of the stairs. there was a door that was not a door. It was more like a slab of stone than a door, and Alec cracked it open where it slid silently, moving on invisible tracks that let a sliver of light into the opening.
Caster was a section of the city where Sam was comfortable, but Alec was still trying to come to grips with it. Everything was dirtier, a grime that seemed to have accumulated over centuries. Caster was at the edge of the city, with the mountains visible in the distance across the expanse of the deadly steam fields. It was an older section of the city, one of the first and rumored to be where the Anders first settled before taking over the rule of the city. If that was true, there was little of that noble finery left. A few buildings appeared more ornate, but nothing like those in the palace section.
When he felt sure that nothing moved, he slid the door open wider and stepped out, then slid it shut. He paused for a moment, leaning against the wall, not moving as he stared into the shadows in the way that Sam had taught him. She had warned him to watch after coming out of the doorway to ensure they weren’t discovered. If he saw anything suspicious, he was supposed to slip back down the stairs and alert her. In her current condition, would there be anything she could do?
It was possible that he could have made another note on the page to reverse the augmentation, but he hated the idea of making too many and confusing their studies. They needed to understand their abilities and be able to better know just what the augmentations could do so that if they ever had the need again, they would be better prepared. There was value in knowing how long they lasted, too.
Comforted by the fact that he saw nothing, Alec hurried along the alley. He might not be entirely comfortable in Caster, but he’d become comfortable enough to move through the streets alone, something he doubted he would have done even a few months ago. He had always felt a certain protection in his part of the city—a place that Sam thought was highborn. Merchants and others like his father lived there, and he didn’t consider any of them particularly wealthy, though the people in Caster likely did. Did having an honest life, working a regular job, make you highborn? Did living in Caster, where crime seemed to be the only way to survive, make you lowborn?
Sam might have been a thief—though he hadn’t seen her stealing in the time that he’d known her—but she wasn’t what he would have once considered a thief. Bastan was another story. There was something about him that made Alec nervous in a way that even Marin didn’t. She was intimidating, but mostly because of her competence. With Bastan, Alec didn’t know quite what to think of him. Maybe it was because Alec couldn’t determine whether he wanted to help Sam or take advantage of her.
At the end of the alley, he slipped out onto the street. He told Sam that he needed to check on something, and that was true, but he hadn’t told her what he wanted to check on. If he had, it would only have made her nervous. There was enough anxiety from the unknown as it was. They might not have faced the Thelns again—and he suspected the reason for Marin’s periodic absences was because she went to investigate—but he and Sam trained like they would come across them once more, training that took him away from his father, though there were limitations to how long he could be gone.
After seeing the way that she had stretched this time, he worried that he had less control of this ability than he thought. He didn’t want to be the reason that something happened to Sam. His lack of control had nearly cost her before, and she had relied on him—trusted him—to not make that mistake again.
There was something he hadn’t tried yet.
In the days since his father’s return, he had rebuilt the apothecary, raising it from the ashes. Most of the work had been done by people his father had helped over the years, men and women who his father had charged practically nothing for the healing he offered, healing that rivaled what the physickers at the university could offer. All his father asked for was a token of gratitude. And in the time of his need, they had all come to help rebuild the shop.
There were no answers for him at the apothecary. All of his father’s old writings had been lost. The fire had consumed everything. That might have been the greatest loss of all. All of the books and notes that Alec had studied over the years, learning all he could, were gone. Everything else could have been restored. It would be work to re-accumulate all of the lost medicines, but not impossible to do. Restoring the documentation… That was difficult, if not impossible.
What they needed was answers and Marin would have them. When he’d been in her home, he’d seen that she had an entire library, filled with books that might help them learn a little bit more about what it meant for them to be Kaver and Scribe.
That was why Alec was willing to cross Caster at night and without Sam’s guidance.
He glanced around. Was someone following him?
It wasn’t likely, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone might be.
Alec focused on the people they passed. Others were in ways that he thought were typical for the city. Dirty cloaks and worn pants. Few had much adornment to them, with little additional color of stitching. As he passed them, his mind documented what he saw much the same way as his father had long ago trained him.
Slight limp, favors the right. Sway to his hips makes it likely arthritis in the knee.
Hollowed eyes. Gaunt. Slight tremor. Stink of ale on him.
Slow pace. Swollen legs and arms. Possible heart condition.
Alec forced his mind away from the clinical side, demanding that he not assess each person that he passed. What good would it do? When his father’s apothecary shop had been torched, it had changed things for him. Beyond learning that he was a Scribe and trying to understand what that meant, he’d realized that a part of him longed to help people the way that his father did.
And yet, the more he worked with Sam, the more he was pulled in this other direction, the more he began to question. They still knew so little about their abilities—something that felt impossible at times. What would Sam say if he told her that he needed to return to the apothecary and work with his father? Learning about what they could do was maybe just as important.
Without him, Sam would be in danger. They were expected to work together, she the Kaver and he the Scribe, but it left him wanting more.
Would Sam understand?
That was what troubled him the most. He wanted to help her find answers, but she seemed to view all of this as some great adventure, and in many ways, he understood that, but then she was the one to receive the augmentation and hence the powers. Alec grew weaker each time he helped form the augmentation, not stronger, not the way that Sam did.
Understanding his role in all of this was the other reason he wanted to find out what Marin might know.
When he did learn what it meant for him to be a Scribe, would he eventually be able to return to the apothecary or would this keep him from serving as he had?
How could he help Sam—something he wanted to do—and still serve others the way that he felt compelled to do, the way his father had taught him?
There had to be more information about the Scribes within Marin’s collection of books. Since they hadn’t seen her in the last few weeks, the timing felt as if it would work. Without her there, she wouldn’t be able to keep him from looking at the books that might hold the answers he sought. The only thing he had to do was find a way to break into her home.
Had he been willing to involve Sam, he would have less trouble, but doing that would open him to questions he wasn’t prepared to answer. They were questions he wasn’t sure he knew how to answer.
Would Sam be hurt that he wanted to expedite the learning process without further testing? Would she understand that doing so would allow him to spend more time at the apothecary, where he could advance his true passion for helping people?
Sam seemed to enjoy their exp
erimentation too much, and enjoyed the power and abilities that came with each augmentation, however briefly they lasted. Would she be disappointed that he wanted to try a different approach that might bring them answers far sooner than they so far had managed?
Alec paused. Maybe it was only his imagination. No one cared enough to follow him, did they? He scanned the streets but didn’t see anything more than what he’d seen so far. It did nothing to slow his pounding heart.
As he moved to the outskirts of Caster, fewer and fewer people were out on the street. This part was close to the canal, but still far enough removed that it was distant from trade and the greater traffic within the city. There were homes above some shops, but not nearly in the same density as found near the canals. Finally, he saw Marin’s home.
Shadows moved around him, making the street seem practically alive. He shivered, worried that someone watched him, but knowing it had to be only his imagination.
He should return to Sam. This was a fool’s errand and not the kind that he would normally make, but again, he didn’t want to do it with Sam.
Shadows hung around him, and he stayed in darkness near the two buildings at the mouth of an alley, watching. There was a trick Sam had taught him, something about watching the night and detecting movement and sound that he hadn’t fully mastered, but then again, he hadn’t spent his childhood learning to become a thief as she had, trained by Bastan, someone who was a master thief within their section.
There was nothing. No movement. No sounds. Only empty night.
And his imagination.
There weren’t even any clouds out tonight, leaving the faint stars twinkling brightly near the sliver of the moon. Had he been in Arrend, looking up at the sky from outside the apothecary, it might even have been peaceful. As it was, he was left with a rising sense of anxiety, uncertain about whether he should attempt to break into Marin’s home.
He wasn’t a thief. What was he thinking even trying this?
This was Sam’s job. This was the type of thing that she was skilled at. He knew better than to attempt the same thing, and yet… He felt as if he needed to, if only because he wanted answers. Maybe if he returned to her with answers, she would be pleased. Hadn’t he always felt that keeping communication open was the best approach? Wasn’t that what his father had taught him?
And right now, Sam was covered only in her cloak, naked otherwise.
He flushed at the thought of her that way. In her true form, she was small, but lovely. He couldn’t help but look when her clothes had torn free. During his time studying with his father, there had been many times he had seen the human body exposed completely, but with Sam, it was more than for documentation purposes. He was doubtful she saw him as anything other than an apothecary and her Scribe, anything other than the other half of her power. That was the only reason she needed him.
He pushed those thoughts away. They would only distract him when what he needed was focus. He hurried across the street and didn’t pause as he entered the building.
He hadn’t expected the door to be locked and it wasn’t. It hadn’t been the last time he’d been here, either. Once upstairs, the door to Marin’s room would be locked and he would have to figure some way of getting past that. He didn’t have Sam’s lock-picking skills, and he didn’t have any way of getting augmented, so he’d have no way to force his way in. It would require a different approach, but what?
As he reached the top of the stairs and saw the door at the end looming in front of him, he decided this had been a mistake.
What had ever made him think that he could find a way into the room? He should return to Sam and bring her back with him. What made him think he try to do this alone?
A soft breath of wind struck him, and he froze.
The air had been still before.
His skin prickled and sweat beaded on his brow. There was one reason he could think of: the door must have opened below. If it had, the timing made it more than likely that someone watched him and followed him.
Had it not been his imagination?
This had indeed been a mistake.
Now that he was here, trapped, there was no place for him to go.
Was that a boot on the stair?
He reached Marin’s door and hazarded a glance over his shoulder.
There wasn’t anyone on the stairs that he could see, but there was the steady thumping, a slow drumming sensation.
Footsteps on the stairs. It had to be.
When he tried the door, it was locked.
He wiggled it, though he knew it would make no difference. A stout lock would hold, and Marin would have nothing other than a stout lock on her door.
The drumming became louder, and his heartbeat increased several times as fast.
He gripped the handle, debating what he should do. Could he shove the door open? If he did, he might be able to get into the room, and from there he could go out the window the same way that Sam had once done. He didn’t like the idea of attempting it, but he liked the idea of getting caught much less.
Alec lowered his shoulder and shoved it against the door.
Thankfully, rather than splintering, the door popped open.
He let out a relieved breath as he stepped inside and grabbed the door to close it. As he did, he peered into the darkness, trying to see if there had been anyone out there, or if it had all been his imagination. A shape appeared at the top of the stairs, massive and looming, a brutish sort of figure.
Alec stepped back, closing the door so quickly that he feared he wouldn’t shut it silently, and leaned on the door, his heart hammering even faster than before.
There was only one thing that would appear like the figure he had seen in the hall. A Theln.
3
The Unexpected Visitor
Alec backed away from the door. The thudding from outside continued to race through him, a steady sort of drumming the left him breathless.
What was it?
Probably his imagination. Nerves wracked him. His mouth was dry, and he licked his lips.
He needed something to bar the door. He scanned the room and spotted two rods leaning against the wall, what Sam referred to as a canal staff. Would that be enough?
He had to try. He had to buy time so he could decide if he had to escape out the window or hole up here and remain hidden.
He screwed the two rods together quickly. He had seen Sam do it enough times he was familiar with the way that they were meant to go together. This one was threaded much like hers and seemed a little longer, but it was basically the same.
Thoughts raced through his mind, but mostly the same one: he had made a mistake.
Had he been with Sam and had they their paper, he could have made a quick note and given them the ability to counter whatever the brutish Theln might do.
Now, he was at the mercy of whatever the brute might do. He had no misconceptions about his ability to defend himself. He would be lucky to live if the man breached the door and attacked. When they’d come the last time, he’d been unable to do anything other than run when given the chance.
Not like Sam, even without any augmentations.
The drumming came closer.
What was it that he sensed?
Alec quickly jammed the staff behind the door, angling it so that it caught behind the dresser and a shelf, then grabbed another dresser from across the room and pushed it in front of the door. The combination should prevent the door from opening easily, but he doubted it would hold for long, especially against one of the Thelns. They were incredibly strong, and he knew them to be relentless. More likely than not, they would splinter the staff and leave it broken.
The door started to bulge.
He licked his lips. If he was going to make a run for the window, now was the time.
He raced over to the window, pushing it open as quickly as he could.
He heard the staff splinter and the door flung open behind him.
Alec turned from the window to
face the brute. Shaking, he could think of nothing but how he might escape.
“I know you, don’t I?” a deep voice rolled toward him.
Alec shivered again. There was only one reason why would one of the Thelns would know him and that was if the same Theln who had attacked before had returned.
Ralun.
Alec had been far too involved in drawing their attention. He would rather have been anonymous; for that matter, he would rather have remained completely free of them and never have lost the apothecary.
He gripped the windowsill, preparing to throw himself over the ledge. He wasn’t sure if he would survive the fall—there was no way he would hold up if he crashed to the cobblestones below—but jumping gave him a better chance than risking a fight with the Thelns.
“You’re him, aren’t you?” the brute asked him.
“I’m no one. Just let me be.”
The Theln took a step into the room. There was a certain odor to him that was off-putting. Alec couldn’t quite place why it would be, but it was unpleasant.
“You’re friends with Sam.”
Alec paused. The Theln had said Sam and not some other derogatory name. That wasn’t what he had expected. Not Ralun, then. “Who are you?”
The brute paused and remained shrouded in darkness. It gave him a more ominous appearance. He was probably a good foot taller than Alec, and weighed twice as much as he did. “She hasn’t mentioned me?”
Alec blinked. What was this?
The brute took a step forward and came out of the shadows. When he did, Alec realized he wasn’t quite as brutish as he had thought, though he still had similarities that made the connection to the Thelns obvious.
“I’m Tray. I’m her brother.” Tray took a step forward. “Why did you break into Marin’s home?”
Alec kept his hand on the windowsill, not wanting to move too quickly, but unsure whether he could trust Tray. Were Sam here, this would have played out differently.
Broken: The Book of Maladies Page 2
