Alec nodded. His father could be gone anywhere from an afternoon to several days when he went harvesting. He hadn’t thought that his father had gone off for any length of time, but maybe he had.
“If your father’s not here, come along then. I went out harvesting myself. You’re lucky to have caught me.”
“More ink?”
“You know how it goes, Alec. I need to find the right colorant.” She smiled and waved for him to follow. She reached her shop just down the street, holding the door until Alec followed her in.
The inside of Mrs. Rubbles’ shop was simple. She sold stationery, and dozens of different types of papers and pen, inks, and an assortment of candle wax, all designed for documentation. She was his father’s primary supplier of paper and acquired a particular stock for him. “Are you hungry?”
“You don’t have to feed me, Mrs. Rubbles.”
“Nonsense, Alec. Without you, I don’t think I would be feeling nearly as wonderful as I do these days. It’s almost like I am ten years younger.”
Alec smiled. He could do even more for her if he used the easar paper on her again. The physickers didn’t have the same capacity to help that he did as a Scribe. They might know of medicines and surgeries that could be tried, but would any of them have the ability to rejuvenate her the way he had with the easar paper? He had cured her glandular issue even without knowing what he was doing. Now that he had some understanding, he might even be able to do more.
“If you haven’t been working with your father, what have you been doing?” she asked, guiding him up the stairs at the back of the shop and into her apartment. It was all neatly arranged, and she motioned for him to take a seat in a comfortable-looking chair at the table. Several stacks of paper with bottles of ink rested on the table.
“I’ve been studying with another.” He lifted one of the bottles of ink and twisted it in his fingers before setting it back down.
“Another?” A twinkle came to her eyes. “Could this be the same other I saw when you came to my shop with your father after that strange paper?”
Alec flushed. “She’s only a friend, Mrs. Rubbles.”
“Well, I saw how the two of you were together. There is definitely a connection there, so don’t abandon hope yet.”
Alec looked down at his hands. It wasn’t so much abandoning hope as knowing what was realistic. And with Sam, he wasn’t certain whether he wanted to risk disrupting the connection they had between them. What they could do as Scribe and Kaver was important—probably too important to risk in any way.
“You seem distracted. What is it?” she said.
She rubbed her hands, and Alec noted her palms were cracking. Immediately his mind began to work through different lotions he could offer.
“I went to the university for testing today,” Alec said.
“Your father said you might. He wasn’t sure whether you would accept. I told him that of course you would. Why wouldn’t you?”
“I can be an apothecary like my father without going to the university.”
She shot him an amused look. “Like your father? Where do you think he learned his skills? Why do you think your father is as talented as he is? I think he hopes that you will decide to follow him, though he understands that you have to make your own way.”
“I don’t really know what I want to do. For a long time, I thought I was meant to work at the apothecary. Going to the university had always been a dream, but nothing more than that. And now….” Now, his purpose alluded him. He could continue to work with Sam. He could stay with his father, trying to better understand healing and treatments. His future was unlikely to involve anything with the university.
Mrs. Rubbles looked up from the meal she was preparing in her small kitchen. She was warming up some meats, and they steamed in the pot, giving off a savory aroma. The smells made his mouth water, and his stomach rumbled. The testing had taken the better part of the day, and he hadn’t eaten anything since the night before. “Life is nothing but decisions. you make one, you need to move forward, not looking back. Decisions of the past can’t be changed. You can only change what you might do in the future.”
She set a tray in front of him, moving the paper and ink out of the way. Alec took a bite of the stew, enjoying the taste. Mrs. Rubbles was widely known as one of the best cooks in the section.
“You’re unusual for a man your age, Alec.”
“Why is that?”
“Most young men think mostly of themselves. You worry about others. You try to make them happy, thinking that you need to be selfless, but there are times when you need to choose what will bring you the most happiness.”
Alec took another bite and glanced over at her. “Is this shop all you ever wanted? Is this what made you happy?”
Mrs. Rubbles smiled. “Not the shop. Mr. Rubbles made me happy. I do this to honor him.”
Alec looked down at the stew. Mr. Rubbles was someone his father had been unable to save. He had grown sick far too rapidly, and Alec knew how much it pained his father. In hindsight, he wondered whether his father could have done something, had he been willing to use his connection to the university. Would there have been some way to save him?
“What makes you happy?”
Alec set his spoon down, staring into the bowl. “There was a time when I would’ve said that working with my father and learning to help and heal others were all I needed to make me happy.”
“And that’s not the case?”
Alec could only sigh. “It’s all different now.”
“Just because you met someone you care about doesn’t mean you need to change. Don’t let a girl, even one as delightful as she seemed, change who you are, Alec Stross.”
Alec glanced up. “What if she’s not changing who I am, but revealing it to me?”
Mrs. Rubbles smiled warmly. “Then, my boy, you will have met someone exceedingly rare—and special. The person who can help you find the person you are meant to be.”
While Mrs. Rubbles puttered about in the kitchen, Alex continued devouring the stew in silence. When he finished his meal, he took the empty bowl to her.
“I can help clean it up.”
“Of course, you’re perfectly capable, but I think I see a light in your father’s shop. Why don’t you go tell him about your testing?”
Alec looked over and saw the faint light flickering through the door. As he left, Mrs. Rubbles called out to him.
“Alec?”
He paused, his hand on the door.
Mrs. Rubbles was rubbing her hands again. Alec would have to say something to his father. “Remember, sometimes finding what makes you happy is not only a single thing but bringing many things together.”
Alec nodded, not fully understanding, but perhaps that was her intent.
He left the shop and hurried across the street. He tried the door and found it locked, so he knocked. His father emerged from the back of the shop and gave him a smile as he approached.
“Well?”
Alec shrugged. “I don’t know. They asked questions and I answered them as best I could, but I don’t know what they will decide. Maybe they’ll decide that I don’t know enough for them.”
His father waved him inside. “I doubt they will decide you don’t know enough. If anything, it might be a willful sort of ignorance that keeps them from inviting you. They are nothing if not fixed in their beliefs, and an apothecary coming to them with knowledge that would rival even a junior physicker would challenge their beliefs. They don’t like the idea that someone else can teach what they know.”
Alec took a seat at the table in the center of the room. Rows of shelves were arranged around him, and the smells here were comforting. “How much time did you spend in the university?” Alec asked.
“I was there for many years.”
That wasn’t a very detailed answer, but maybe it was all his father would give him. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“What does it change? I’m not a
physicker. I don’t claim to be.”
“But you spent time at the university. You could be a physicker.”
His father waved a hand. “A title doesn’t make me the person that I am. I offer help to those who wouldn’t otherwise have it. That is enough for me.”
Alec swallowed, looking down at his hands. His father was an apothecary and had been a physicker even though he no longer claimed that title. More than that, his father had helped the people of this section and many others, people who wouldn’t have been able to afford the university for healing. Maybe it was enough. Maybe it needed to be enough for him.
“What kind of questions did they ask?” his father asked him. He took a seat across from Alec and pulled a piece of paper up, readying a pen. Would his father take notes on even this?
“Most of them were pretty basic. It seemed as if they were trying to ascertain my knowledge of general healing, though a few were more probing, questioning what I knew about medicines and illnesses.”
“Any particular illness stand out?”
Alec debated which of the questions he should share with his father. The abdominal pain comment was strange, especially since they tried to make him feel as if he shouldn’t be questioning whether the patient was male or female, but it was the rash that had been the strangest for him.
“They seemed disturbed when I suggested treating a rash with an oral preparation.”
His father glanced up, his pen hovering over the page. “Yes. I imagine that did trouble them. Too many think topical treatment is the only effective way to treat rashes, but there are some that require a systemic response. Usually, the oral preparation allows for a more rapid response to the treatment.”
“I know, Father.”
His father shook his head, smiling. “Of course, you know. I taught you that long ago.”
“You gave me an opportunity to prove it to myself. I seem to remember having the same question, and you challenged me to document the differences between when I attempted a topical versus an oral preparation.”
“That’s the only way to properly demonstrate the treatment efficacy, Alec.”
He grinned. “I know.”
His father nodded. “Of course, you do.” He looked down at the page. “What else did they ask you?”
“About abdominal pain. They were interested in the types of abdominal pain that I was not capable of treating. I shared that there was one patient we saw where we presumed it was spontaneous bleeding that caused the illness.”
His father’s eyes tensed slightly. It was subtle, but Alec had been around his father long enough to recognize distress when he saw it. “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? You wouldn’t have that look if it were nothing. Why shouldn’t I have shared that story?”
His father set the pen down and looked up, meeting Alec’s gaze. “They already look down on me as an apothecary, Alec. A story like that will make them view my abilities as less than theirs.”
“Does that matter?”
“Not to me. There are others that it will matter to. And if you are going to go to the university and study, I don’t want them applying that bias to you.”
“I told them that you are not a surgeon and that there wouldn’t have been any reason for you to be able to fully assess whether there was a spontaneous bleed.”
“If you are selected, you might be given the opportunity to train in surgery. Is that something you think you would want?”
Alec hadn’t given it much thought. He looked around the shop, thinking of the knowledge of medicines that he had acquired over his years. Everything he was able to do came down to different treatments his father had taught him. “Did you learn surgery when you went to the university?”
“That was never my talent, but you might find that you have a talent with it.” He looked back down to his page and began making a few notes. When he was done, he glanced up. “What will you do if you’re selected?”
It was the question that Alec had for himself. “I don’t know.”
“You’re worried about her?”
It didn’t surprise Alec that his father immediately understood. “I worry about not understanding what I could be.”
“There are many ways you could benefit her while studying at the university. There’s access there that you wouldn’t have otherwise.”
“But we won’t be able to understand our abilities if I go.”
“You can still study and work with her during your free time.”
“Free time?”
His father chuckled. “Admittedly, there will not be much. I remember my first days there, and how little time I had for anything other than studying. You really do have to throw yourself into it, but you have an advantage that I didn’t.”
“What advantage is that?”
“You already know more than most who enter. For you, it will be mostly about honing that knowledge, trying to fine-tune what you already know, not trying to grasp the basics. I suspect you won’t be nearly as overwhelmed as I felt when I first went.” His father met his gaze again. “Promise me that you will at least consider it, if offered.”
“I will consider it.”
His father pressed his lips together in a tight frown. “I am not convinced that you will.”
Alec held his gaze for a moment before looking down. He wasn’t convinced that he would, either. If he went to the university, it would change things between him and Sam. It was strange that he felt the way he did about it, especially since he hadn’t known her for all that long, but he wanted to have time with her, and were he honest with himself, he enjoyed the time they shared together, practicing and honing the abilities that they possessed.
Yet, for all of that, a part of him knew he would miss out on something more if he didn’t try to go to the university.
“I’m not even sure they will offer me admission.”
His father watched him with a deep frown. “They would be fools not to.”
11
Balan Day
A drizzling rain assaulted the city, forcing Sam to leave the hood of her cloak pulled up over her head. She ducked beneath the low overhang for some brief protection, scanning the street as she did. This part of the city was better cared for than Caster, but then the Lostin section was home to the market and more centrally located. The people coming through here would be much wealthier than in other sections.
That wasn’t the reason that she’d come.
Again, it was about Marin. She would give Sam more answers—if only Sam could keep up with her. She’d trailed her through most of the outer sections to Lostin, but Sam was determined to do it.
“Are we just going to stand here?”
Sam glanced over to Alec. He had finally returned, though he hadn’t explained much about what he’d been doing. She decided not to push, thinking that it probably didn’t matter, not enough that she wanted to risk angering him.
“You were the one who wanted to come,” she said.
“I said that I wanted to see the selection of leaves that were available,” Alec said. “Not that I wanted to get lost in the crowd. Besides, you wanted to speak with a few merchants.”
She shrugged, standing on her toes to look for Marin. “Maybe not today.”
“Why?”
“I think I see someone…”
Alec followed the direction of her gaze. “Is that why we’re here?”
She shrugged. “I thought I could get some answers.” And right now, she wanted to know what would bring Marin to the market. What could she be after here?
They made their way through the crowd, meandering almost aimlessly as they trailed Marin. The central market was a place where everyone was welcomed, even those from Caster. In this section, it wasn’t uncommon to find people from all over the city, highborns and lowborns all together, though they often shopped in separate parts of the market. On most days, the market was busy with thousands of people making their way through, buying and
selling or doing what Sam did and simply watching.
One day of the month was different.
Balan Day, a time of feasting throughout the city in celebration of the festival god, brought out twice the crowd and twice the energy. Barges tied along the canals, adding to the chaos, but they expanded the trading, giving people more stations to search for goods.
What was Marin thinking coming to the market on a Balan Day? Even Sam knew better than to do that, but to catch up with Marin, she had no choice. Maybe if she had augmentations, it wouldn’t be quite so bad, but seeing as she had nothing but her canal staff, which she didn’t dare reveal in front of this many people, she felt unprotected.
“I don’t know how you intend to keep up with her. There are just too many people here. There’s a reason my father never had me come visit the market on Balan Day. It’s too easy to get lost in the crowd, or worse—have your pockets picked.”
She turned to him with a smile. “I might have been the one picking your pocket. I think you’re safe enough with me today.”
“Great. Just what I wanted to hear. The thief responsible for stealing from me is now my friend.”
“Not just your friend. Your Kaver.”
“Even better.”
She smiled. As much as he resisted it, she thought he was thankful for their connection. They had each other, which was something neither of them had before they met. Then again, Alec had his father, much like she had Tray.
How much had Alec’s relationship with his father changed since she’d come into Alec’s life? Had it changed nearly as much as hers with Tray? Even though she didn’t want it to, it was hard not to think that it had changed, and probably not for the better.
“I just want to see what she’s doing. Can we follow her a little longer?”
“Should I keep my hand on my pocket?”
“Only if you don’t want me to steal from you.”
They passed a cluster of men dressed in the gray university clothing, the crest embroidered on their chests. Some of them had their heads shaved, and the jackets were of different lengths. Was that important for some reason?
Broken: The Book of Maladies Page 8
