Sam rose to his feet and moved toward the door. He took a deep breath. The newcomer's scent was clean and crisp, similar to Tara, though there was a little difference to it. Not as much lilac, he decided. Still, there was the sense of magical power he detected. It tingled along his skin, leaving him feeling as if there was some powerful use taking place.
“Tara?” he called out.
“There’s someone who wants to see you,” she replied.
“Who is it? I can’t see them.”
“You can’t see?” The voice was soft. Nervous.
“Mia?”
A part of him worried about others in her tower learning that she was his sister. He didn’t want them to treat her the way that he was treated. She didn’t need to acknowledge her ties to the Barlands. It was best if she didn’t.
“What happened to him?” Mia asked. The question was for Tara.
Sam took a step toward her. Tara must have gone to her, though that risked exposing his connection to Mia. Then again, Tara was smart enough to know better than to do that. She probably had gone to her in secret or even passed word to her.
“He can answer for himself,” Sam said.
When his sister had been injured playing Shitunable, Sam hadn’t gone to her. Then again, he hadn’t the feeling that Mia wanted him to. Did he want her to come here and see him like this?
If it meant seeing him weak. Not if it meant seeing him helpless.
And given how little she had wanted to see him, why did he want her here anyway?
As soon as that thought came to him, he pushed it away. All of this was for Mia. He would do it again and again to keep her off the streets of Erstan and to safety. He had been the strong one while in Erstan. There had been no choice. Losing their small home, going from the cozy sense that he’d known sitting with Mia and playing games before the hearth to the pain and torment of trying to find scraps to survive, had not broken him.
This could not either.
It was his frustration, nothing else. He had to get past that.
Hearing his sister’s voice, feeling her presence, and being unable to get to her left him longing for the ability to see her. He was adapting to the blindness, but times like these when he realized he might never lay eyes on Mia again made things more difficult.
“What happened?” Mia had more strength in the question this time.
There was a surge of energy from her, the soft touch of arcane arts she radiated. It wasn’t much, but he was able to detect her use of it. He’d always known she was powerful.
“I can’t see,” he said.
“That’s what Tara told me, but how?”
Sam turned toward Tara. Could she see the question on his face? He still didn’t know how Tara had gotten Mia on her own to share with her what happened to Sam.
“It doesn’t matter how. They’ve tried to heal me, but there hasn’t been anything they can do.”
“Who’s tried to heal you?” Mia asked, closer now. The warmth radiating from her was easier for him to detect. Whatever she was doing had a hint of arcane magic mixed in with it.
Did Tara know?
He suspected she did. Tara had enough control over her arcane magic that she’d have to know what Mia was doing and the way she used her magic. Sam felt for his sister, aware of the sense of heat radiating off of her. He tried to smile. “It doesn’t really matter who’s tried to heal me. All that matters is that it hasn’t been effective.”
“It matters. I’m sure someone can help you.”
“Tara has tried. Havash has tried. Even the Grandam has tried.” With each person he listed, her breath caught, and she seemed to be standing perfectly still. Sam wished he could reassure her. As the older brother, it was his responsibility to do so.
“The Grandam has tried?” Her voice trembled a little with this, and Sam only smiled.
“Is this why you wanted me to come?” Mia asked, turning away from Sam. Her voice shifted, and within it, he could hear the irritation. “I have tests, Sam. I’m sure you do too, or you would…”
Sam breathed out slowly. “I will make up my exams,” he said. There was a part of him that was tempted to tell her that he might have some access to the arcane arts if he could learn how to use it, but he wasn’t sure that she even cared. “Don’t be mad at Tara. She’s been trying to help me.”
Mia moved closer to him. He could feel pressure coming off of her. “There has to be something you can do.”
“Not without giving up something else,” he said.
“Maybe it’s time for you to go, anyway,” Mia said. “You came here for a different purpose, and now that the attack has been revealed, you could just go.”
He tried to ignore the sadness that filled him. His sister wanted him to leave.
She was the reason that he was here. He wouldn’t have come to the Academy otherwise. Everything that he had gone through had been for her. Even back in Erstan, Sam had wanted nothing more than to try to help his sister and to find a way to offer her anything that she could get to the Academy.
And now that she was here, and now that he understood what it had taken, she wanted him to leave?
What was worse was that he wanted to stay.
This wasn’t going to be his place. It had never been his place, but there was a part of him that felt like it was. Since coming here, spending time in the library, sitting through classes, challenging his mind, he couldn’t help but feel as if he did belong if only a little.
“Maybe,” he said.
“Do you really intend to try to stay until the end of the year?”
“That was the plan,” Sam said, choosing his words carefully. “Between the stipend, the place to stay, and the food, I thought that you would understand.”
There was silence for a moment. Then Mia sighed softly. “You’re right, Sam. I’m really sorry. It’s just… I know you are trying to watch out for me, and I know you don’t want anything to happen to me, but if they learn that I’m from the Barlands—”
“I know,” he said. “I have been trying to protect you.”
“I know,” she said. “And I shouldn’t make any comment otherwise. I’ve done a terrible job being your sister.”
Sam started to smile. “You really have,” he said.
Mia started to laugh. “I’m not trying to be like that.”
“You just do it so well,” he chuckled. “Maybe it’s just second nature for you.”
“Hey,” she said, laughing at him.
A part of him wanted to tease her about Gresham, but he knew better than to do that. It would be a sensitive subject for her, and it was not really a topic that he wanted to know about. He understood her desire to fit in and how doing so would give her a chance to feel as if she were a part of something more, but he also understood that Gresham could be compelling, given his family’s connections to the Council.
He started to say something when he felt a pressure building. It was powerful, but it was mixed with heat. That was unusual. He started to shift and felt Tara’s hand on his arm.
“What is it?” Tara asked.
“It’s probably nothing,” he said.
“You moved awfully fast for something that was nothing,” she said.
Sam felt the energy on the other side of the door as someone knocked softly. It was a sense of arcane magic that was familiar to him. He leaned on the door, detecting the power, which washed through the door and over him. The vrandal started to pulse, the sense of needles shooting through him uncomfortably and leaving part of him tingling. He clenched his fist, trying to squeeze back the pain.
He turned toward Tara. “It’s the power that I felt in the hall.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sam stood at the door, uncertain. He could feel something distinct and familiar, that unique energy that suggested the arcane arts it had been in the Study Hall. And then there was something else. A unique scent that he had smelled—and recently.
He breathed in. It was smoking but hid
something else.
“Grandam,” he said.
“Samran, you appear well.”
“I’m trying to adjust as well as I can. Is there anything I can do for you?” He stood with the door partially closed, wanting to block her from seeing his sister and Tara. Considering how he was becoming sensitive to the use of magic, he suspected the Grandam would surely be able to detect it, so she might know they were there anyway.
“I’m here to see if there’s anything more I can do to help with your eyesight.”
“I don’t know if I’m able to tolerate another attempt at healing.”
“I’m sure you can tolerate some,” she said.
“The last time—”
“The last time, you were still recovering. You have had an opportunity to recover more, and I suspect you will be able to withstand healing much better.” She didn’t move.
He couldn’t tell what she was doing other than standing there, though the pressure coming off of her seemed to intensify. Sam wanted to close the door and prevent her from entering his room, but he wasn’t sure that would be the right solution either. Angering the Grandam ran the risk of getting back to Havash.
Something shifted, and he could feel and smell Tara step up behind him. “Grandam, I was just on my way out.”
“Ms. Stone, I find you here quite often.”
“Sam and I are friends. I didn’t realize that was a problem.”
“One would think that a senior-level student like yourself, especially one with as much potential as you have shown, would be more interested in consorting with others like her.”
“There aren’t others of my potential other than Sam.”
Sam felt a moment of pride at hearing words.
“I appreciate the confidence, Ms. Stone, but I would caution you… Who else is here?”
Sam felt the Grandam’s hand on his chest, pushing him back with more force than necessary. He stumbled, staggering back toward the wall when Tara caught him. She eased him into position, turning him so that he could stand inside the room.
“Ms. Bilson, I haven’t seen you visit your brother before.”
Sam frowned. Was the Grandam following him?
“Grandam, I heard he was injured. I was coming to see if there was anything he needed,” Mia replied.
“You have your own studies as well, Ms. Bilson. Why don’t you return to your tower? What Mr. Bilson needs is to work with healers who might be able to offer him more. And what you need is to return to your tower and continue your studies. I believe you still have a few tests remaining.”
Mia’s breath caught. “Of course, Grandam.” She started toward him. Sam tried to catch her arm when she reached him, but she hurried past.
Tara leaned toward Sam, and she whispered in his ear. “I need to check on something.”
He breathed out and nodded. Tara was going to leave him alone with the Grandam. The Grandam claimed she only wanted to help him, but with what he’d detected before, the possibility that she had met with Ferand worried him.
When they were alone, the Grandam pressed the door closed, sealing them inside. There was a sense of arcane magic coming from her, tingling along his skin. It burned unpleasantly.
“Perhaps you should take a seat, Mr. Bilson. The last time, you were unstable.”
Sam wanted to object, but he didn’t think he could. What was he going to say anyway? It wasn’t as if he could accuse the Grandam of secretly meeting with Ferand or working against the Academy.
He headed to his bed, counting steps as he had taken to doing. As he passed the Grandam, he could feel the energy coming off of her. It left him tingling, and the needles that seemed to shoot through his arms were unpleasant. He took a deep breath, focusing on the vrandal. He didn’t want to be separated from it.
If she had been meeting with Ferand and was now coming to Sam, then he could only think the vrandal was part of the reason and that she needed it. He had no idea if he could use the device to prevent her from harming him. At most, he thought he might be able to maintain a connection to it, but how could he do that when the needles and the burning sensation continued to work through him?
Sam gripped his hand into a fist around the vrandal and tried to ignore everything else, as difficult as it was. Ever since he’d lost his eyesight, everything else had become stronger. He was aware of the air stirring in and out, a sense of pressure that built against him. He was aware of the movements the Grandam made. Her feet shifted on the ground, soft and subtle but not so quiet that he wasn’t able to hear what she was doing. He was aware of her breathing, a little faster than his own. He could almost hear her heart beating.
On top of all of that was the sense of arcane arts. It came from her with a vibrant intensity. He could feel it tingling along the surface of his skin. He could feel how it washed over him, rolling up through him. All of that was before she had even started to try to heal him. What would he feel when she attempted it? Would he notice something more? Would there be something worse?
He could feel the Grandam’s pressure as she stopped in front of him. She took his hands and pried his palm open, forcing him to reveal the vrandal. She squeezed his hands, using more force than Sam thought she needed to. Power began to build from her as she spoke. “I’m going to try another attempt with you today. It’s going to be different than before, and I’m optimistic that using this technique will give you your sight back.”
“I think Havash should be here.”
“Why?”
“If you’re successful, he’ll want to know what worked.” Sam tried to quickly come up with an excuse for Havash to be here. Even having Tara here would be better, but she had gone with his sister. Perhaps that was for the best, though. He hoped Mia would be safe by leaving.
“I’m quite certain Havash knows plenty of healing techniques. If I’m successful, then I will share it with him.”
“I don’t want you to remove the vrandal,” he said.
“What was that?”
Sam tried to pull his hand away, but she wrapped her hands around the device tightly, holding it in place.
“I don’t want you to remove the vrandal.”
“It’s possible this device is what’s precluding you from being able to see, Samran. If I remove it, then you might be able to see once again.” She leaned close to him, and he could smell her breath. It was warm, almost unpleasant. “Don’t you want me to remove this if it means you can see once more?”
“I…”
Sam started to pull his hand away, but he couldn’t. The Grandam held him too tightly. The only thing that he could do was to focus on the vrandal and the power within it. He had to find a way to connect to it fully. Instead of connecting to the vrandal, Sam had been feeling sorry for himself, even wasting time trying to piece together whether there were patterns within the almanac that he might be able to decipher.
But what if it wasn’t about the almanac.
The Grandam wasn’t an alchemist, and though she had the stack of books on alchemy in her office, she might not even be able to use the key—or understand the almanac.
He had heard Ferand mentioned something else. A lock.
And he did have the key.
Could they actually need the vrandal for something different?
Pain surged up his hand, turning into needles. Sam tried to jerk away, but the Grandam held tightly and said, “You need to relax. I think the healing will work much better if you do.”
“You’re not trying to heal me,” he said, once again trying to pull away.
“I’m not what? I think we both can agree I have attempted to restore you as much as I can.”
“You weren’t trying to heal me last time. You were trying to pull the vrandal off.”
Sam knew that he needed to be careful. She was the Grandam, after all, and he wanted to stay at the Academy.
“I know it might be contributing to my blindness, but I think it also connects me to alchemy. That’s why I want to keep it.” S
am squeezed his hand around. “Besides, Havash knows a way to bond me to it once again.”
“If Havash knows, then he would have done it by now.”
“He’s searching for the answers.”
The Grandam fell silent. Power continued to build off her, washing over him and leaving his hands feeling like they were on fire. The needles in his arms began to move, migrating toward his chest. What would happen if those needles moved higher and reached his head?
Sam tried to focus. It was difficult to think about what Daven had explained to him about the vrandal, but that was what he needed to use now. If he could think about connecting to the device, to form that bond, he might be able to hold it on his hand. It was all tied to emotion, Daven had explained.
When Sam had first tried using his emotion, he had thought it was only about frustration. Certainly, he had enough frustration since coming to the Academy, but this had never seemed to really fuel the control over the vrandal. What he experienced now was fear, but he wouldn’t be able to use his fear because it hadn’t triggered the vrandal in the past.
What else had he used? There’d been a desire to protect others, to protect Mia and then Tara. Now he wanted to protect himself, but would that even be enough? Protecting himself seemed like a selfish desire, almost as if he were trying to ask for something he shouldn’t be.
Sam focused on the vrandal, but there was nothing other than the pain of his hand. He had to push that away. Instead of focusing on pain or on the desire for what the vrandal might offer him, maybe he had to focus on finding an emptiness.
For a moment, the pain surged and with it came a flash of familiar white light. He’d seen it when the vrandal had shifted the last time the Grandam had been here. He held tightly to it, squeezing his hand and trying to push it against the pressure he felt from the Grandam. If nothing else, he wanted to force her to leave the device on his hand.
Pain surged again, and there came another flickering. What if he was wrong? That might be the biggest question of all. If he was wrong, and if she was actually attempting to heal him, he was putting himself into danger by fighting it.
Alchemist Assault (The Alchemist Book 2) Page 23
