Shadow Scale: A Companion to Seraphina(54)

“Is it still causing you pain?” said Nedouard. There was a long pause while Abdo spoke in his head. “You’re past the danger of infection, but it’s going to be stiff.” A very long pause. “Your tendons will have formed adhesions in all the wrong places. They’ll be the devil to untangle. I’m not sure what Belestros thought he could do, the arrogant dragon.” Pause. “Maybe in the Tanamoot. In their own country, the dragons have superior equipment.”


Nedouard rose, opened a cabinet, and pulled out ointment and soap. “Above all, keep it clean,” he said. “We underestimate the importance of hygiene in the Southlands, and we pay for it dearly.” He handed the supplies to Abdo. “Pack these, and then get some sleep. Seraphina, may I speak with you alone?”

“Of course,” I said. Abdo looked irritated but did as Nedouard asked. The doctor motioned me to take Abdo’s empty seat.

“Blanche didn’t need help with her machine—as if I could have helped. She’s scared,” said Nedouard in a low voice. “I am, too, and horrified for Dame Okra. Is there nothing we can do for her?”

The question bespoke his kindness. “I don’t see how,” I said, despairing. “Dame Okra could surely push back against Jannoula, but she seems disinclined to try.”

“Is it possible to evict Jannoula from your mind once she’s in?” asked the old doctor.

“I did it,” I said, “but it was difficult. I had to trick her and build a place to contain her. I’m not sure it would work again; she’d be on guard against it.”

“It’s reassuring to know it’s possible,” he said, fidgeting with a button of his doublet. “When I hear Abdo’s voice in my mind, there’s no way not to hear him. I despair of being able to keep her out when she gets around to me.”

“Abdo’s voice must be like her knocking,” I said, thinking fast. I had not reasoned this out until now. “Abdo can’t manipulate your body or hear any thoughts except the ones you direct toward him in answer.”

“He doesn’t hear thoughts I direct toward him in answer,” said Nedouard, sitting up straighter. “I always have to reply aloud.”

That had been true of Lars and Dame Okra as well, I suddenly realized. I hadn’t thought about it; I’d assumed they’d been answering aloud for my benefit.

Abdo could hear me reply in my head, but then, he was arguably in my mind already. “That’s encouraging,” I said. “Truly. Maybe Jannoula won’t be able to enter any further than that unless you let her in.”

Dame Okra hadn’t even liked to hear Abdo’s voice; she’d found it invasive. I remembered suddenly how Abdo had speculated about altering Dame Okra’s memory—did that mean he could enter minds more completely if he chose to, whether he’d been invited in or not? I wasn’t sure.

“If you hear Jannoula’s voice, don’t answer,” I said, hoping that would be enough.

“That sounds easy,” said Nedouard grimly. “But how was Dame Okra caught out?”

“Her mind reaches out involuntarily,” I said. “It gives her prognostications; apparently it also makes her vulnerable. Jannoula was able to seize her.”

“Dame Okra never reached out to anyone—in the friendly sense, I mean. She disliked even that much vulnerability,” said Nedouard, shaking his bald head. “I confess, I find this intriguing. What makes us the way we are?”

“Dame Okra’s prickliness, you mean?” I asked as he stood and crossed the attic room toward his bed. “Or Jannoula’s desire to possess other people’s minds?”

“Both,” said Nedouard. He knelt by his bed and began feeling around under the mattress. “As well as that peculiar fellow who steals things that don’t belong to him.” He found what he was searching for: a sealed, folded parchment and a small, shiny object. He gazed at them tenderly. “Are we irretrievably broken, Seraphina, or can we be made whole again?”

With trembling hands, he placed the letter and a silver ring set with a tiny pearl in my lap. My heart leaped at the angular handwriting; it was Orma’s. I took Nedouard’s hands in my own—to still them, to thank him. He pulled away, saying only, “Those arrived while you were traveling. Forgive me.”

I enfolded the ring in my hand, and his eyes unlocked from it.

“Safe travels,” he said.

I kissed his liver-spotted forehead and left. Stars shone through the little window at the bottom of the stairs.



Abdo, asleep, had usurped my bed entirely. It was remarkable how such a small person could require all the blankets.

I lit a lantern with an ember from the hearth and opened the letter. I had barely enough light to read by, but I didn’t care. I worked for each word, and the work was a joy.

Eskar reports that you were well when she left, and that you took my suggestion to seek out the ityasaari. I do not know your exact route, but I assume if I send this care of Dame Okra, it will reach you eventually.

I have little news. Eskar has begun courting the exiles here, recruiting them to Comonot’s cause. She believes he will change his mind, and she wants to be ready when he does. I don’t point out her irrationality, though it gives me a certain satisfaction.

My research continues apace. I am impatient for you to be here. Some things can only be told in person. Eskar thinks I shouldn’t write at all, that it is far too risky and impulsive.