Give the Dark My Love(19)

MYSTERIOUS ILLNESS DELAYS SHIPMENT OF CLOTH, one article proclaimed. Another said, FACTORY HOUSING DESTROYED AND REPLACED AFTER INFESTATION AND ILLNESS.

“What is this?” I asked.

“The earliest clues I’ve found.”

I noticed the dates of the articles—all from three months ago, at the height of the governor’s race. One of the headlines read EMPEROR AUGUSTE ARRIVES IN NORTHFACE HARBOR—WILL HE OVERTHROW THE COUNCIL’S VOTE? An illness affecting the poor was minor news compared to the election.

“I’ve been trying to pinpoint the original cases of the illness,” Master Ostrum continued. “I hoped it would give me a clue as to how it spreads or what causes it.”

“The first time I heard of it was Burial Day, last fall,” I said. That had been almost a year ago. “My father told me about a sickness in a village near Hart, where people’s hands and fingers turned black.”

Master Ostrum sucked in a breath. “I’ve been too myopic,” he muttered.

“It moves slowly.”

“It used to,” Master Ostrum said. “It’s spreading more quickly now. This isn’t public knowledge, but a few people on the governor’s council have been sent to the quarantine hospital. Rich, powerful men.”

“What can we do?” I asked.

The corners of Master Ostrum’s mouth tilted up into a smile, though he didn’t appear amused. “We? We can’t do anything until you’re better trained. I have been tasked by the governor herself to help find a cure. While I work, you work.”

He turned and grabbed an empty golden crucible from the shelf behind him, then plunked it on the table in front of me, the metal reverberating.

I stared at it, unsure of what to do.

Master Ostrum raised his eyebrow. “Your application stated that you knew the runes.”

I did. But I’d never actually used them.

“Start with the first form,” he said. I could hear the impatience in his voice. He was giving me a chance to prove myself, and I was failing. My mind raced to remember the basic forms of alchemy I’d read about in Papa’s books. I knew it all by heart; for years I practiced the forms using a chipped porcelain vase my mother sometimes used to hold wildflowers.

But I’d never actually practiced alchemy. I’d never had a real, working crucible, or . . .

I glanced behind me as the first form of alchemy slammed into my head. Shifting life forces. The rats in the cages that lined one wall of the laboratory stared at me with their beady black eyes.

“Don’t be timid, girl,” Master Ostrum growled.

I crossed the room to the cages. My hand shook as I opened a door, the rat inside hissing at me.

At least this was a smaller rat, bred for science, not one of the snarling, spitting things that lurked in barns, stealing grain from Jojo’s stall. I thought of the little kitten Ernesta had when we were younger, and the way a rat had attacked him so brutally his face never fully healed. Taking a deep breath, I threw my hand into the cage, grabbing the rat by its torso, yanking it out, and throwing it into the golden crucible before I could talk myself out of it.

Master Ostrum grunted his approval.

The first form of alchemy required that I connect with a living creature, the crucible acting as a tether. The textbooks I’d read suggested that new alchemists start with a frog or a worm, but Master Ostrum didn’t offer me anything but the rat. Most of the texts I read also warned that first efforts usually failed. I bit my lip. Master Ostrum didn’t seem the type to forgive failure.

I held the base of the crucible with both hands, whispering the runes I’d memorized from Papa’s books. They lit up with bright white light as they activated, and the rat inside the vessel squeaked in fear.

Master Ostrum leaned down, watching me.

I closed my eyes. Through my connection with the golden crucible, I felt for the rat’s life. Alchemy might be a science, but it seemed like magic as I sensed the rat’s heartbeat through my own veins. I breathed out, and when I breathed in again, I pulled. The rat’s life flowed into me, and I felt sparking, crackling energy within my body, a jolt of power. I breathed out and pushed. The rat scampered at the base of the crucible, its claws tinny against the metal as it tried to escape.

I pulled again. The rat flopped down, passive, its energy filling me. It wasn’t dead, just empty, its black eyes dull and its body lax. I let its life force return, and the rat scrambled up, terror sparking its movements.

“You have a natural talent,” Master Ostrum said, a flare of new interest in his solemn eyes.

I suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable, like I was the rat in the crucible, trapped under the gaze of a predator. I nodded in acquiescence I didn’t quite feel.

“Progress to Form Two,” Master Ostrum commanded, turning back to his own experiments.

The dead eyeball that still floated in the jar on the table watched me as I silently reached for another rat.





TEN


    Grey



It didn’t take long for the others to notice Nedra hadn’t attended any lectures since the first day of class. In only a few weeks, it became the biggest topic of speculation, whispers floating around her before Master Ostrum’s morning session began.

“What do you think our little gutter rat does all day?” Tomus drawled, loud enough for Nedra to hear. She kept her head down and flicked up the hood of her cloak. It was barely fall; I was surprised she was even wearing such a heavy garment.