Give the Dark My Love(28)

I chanted the runes quickly, watching them light up, shining through the golden crucible. The rat sitting in the base of the vessel clawed more frantically along the edges.

“What happens to the rat inside?” Ronan asked, peering into the crucible.

I thought about lying to the child to make the truth easier, but there was no point in that. Someone like Ronan was too surrounded by death to feel the balm of a lie. “The pain has to go somewhere. The rat will take it for your brother.”

“That’s mean,” Jax said, but his voice was already less tightly wound as I connected with his body, forming the bridge between him and the rat.

“I know,” I said.

“I don’t care,” Ronan said, his voice more forceful than before.

I concentrated on the task at hand. Alchemist Frue would likely pull this boy into surgery before the end of the day, but before that, at least, I could help ease the pain. I closed my eyes, focusing on the buzzing sensation of his life force. I tugged the pain from the boy’s body, and it passed through me, like a river rushing through reeds, and then I pushed the pain down, down, into the rat. The rodent screamed, but I blocked the noise out.

When I released my grip on both Jax and the crucible, the rat was alive, but barely. The creature’s tongue hung out, and it panted against the metal base of the vessel, its ragged breath casting little clouds against the gold. I tipped the crucible over, putting the rat back into the shoulder bag that served as its cage.

“Thank you,” Ronan said. Jax had slipped into a blissful, pain-free sleep, his body exhausted.

“And my wife?” the older man said, drawing my attention back to him. “Can you use the magic on her?”

I swallowed. Alchemy wouldn’t help her. Taking her pain away might take away her life, stilling her heart so much it quit pumping blood. It would be risky.

“It would be best if you bore the pain,” I told her, seeking her eyes. I reached into my pocket and withdrew the bottle of blue ivy tincture. “If it gets to be too much,” I said, carefully choosing my words, “take this.”

“What will it do?” the husband asked.

I didn’t take my gaze away from the woman’s. “It will make you sleep.” I stressed the final word. “But take no more than three drops every six chimes.” Her eyes widened a little with understanding, and her chin dipped, nodding, letting me know she understood. She took the bottle from me and held it in the palm of her hand.

“Thank you,” her husband said. He moved around the bed to shake my hand. His grip was painful; he clutched my fingers as if they were a lifeline. “Thank you so much. You’re the first person who helped. Thank you.” His voice cracked. “Ronan, come here, thank the alchemist.”

“I’m not a—” I started. The boy held his hand out to me. His grip was far weaker. For the first time, I really focused on him, not the patients in the beds. Ronan’s skin was sallow, dark shadows under his eyes.

Dark shadows on his fingertips.

My grip on his hand tightened reflexively. He saw where I was looking and snatched his hand away, cramming it into his pocket.

His father hadn’t noticed. His brother and mother were too ill to have seen.

But I saw it.

He shook his head, just barely. Don’t tell, his eyes pleaded with me.

His father couldn’t take another loss.





FOURTEEN


    Grey



Nedra looked like a ghost, and Master Ostrum didn’t care.

I gave my daily report to the professor first, as usual, but when Master Ostrum flicked his hand to dismiss me before listening to Nedra’s report of her day working at the hospital, I didn’t move.

“It’s not right,” I muttered.

“Excuse me?” Master Ostrum said, his tone pitching lower.

“You’re exhausting her,” I said, flinging a hand toward Nedra. Her eyes widened at my outburst. “You’re treating her like a slave, as if she’d already taken the robes, but she’s still a student. It’s been more than a week since you asked for volunteers, and since then Nedra practically lives at the quarantine hospital.”

“Grey—” Nedra started.

“It’s not fair, and it’s not right,” I insisted.

“Grey.” Her voice was firmer now.

“If Ms. Brysstain would like to forgo her appointments at the hospital, she is free to. She’s a volunteer, not, as you say, a slave.” Master Ostrum’s voice held finality, but I didn’t move.

Nedra dropped a hand on my arm. “Grey, I can make my own choices,” she said. “Thank you for your concern, but I’m doing what I want to do.”

I growled in frustration and stood to leave. I waited at the steps outside the administration building. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to tell Nedra, but when she pushed open the doors and descended the steps toward me, all words dried up in my mouth.

“I appreciate your concern,” Nedra said, biting off the words, “but don’t ever do that again. I can speak for myself.”

I opened my mouth, then snapped it shut again. “Sorry,” I muttered. We started walking across the quad to the dormitories. “But I’m right.”

“Excuse me?”