I didn’t see Nadine for most of today. I suspected she was still avoiding me, but shortly after supper she asked to see me in her office. In the two days since Jacque’s accident, I’d been something of a nervous wreck. Olrick was also busy with his work, so, while I was hopeful that our dynamic might improve, I didn’t know where I stood with the Seabornes. My head still ached slightly from overextending my magic on Twosday, which did little to improve my mood. And, I suppose, I was mildly worried about Jacque’s recovery.

  I wasn’t certain if I should feel hope or dread as I walked down the hall. Ultimately, I decided to feel both.

  When I entered the office, it had already been cleaned up. The last time I had been here, Jacque had been sprawled out upon the examination table, his blood spattered in puddles about the floor. I’m still not sure if Panzeans understood contamination and the importance of cleaning bad blood. I suppose it’s entirely possible that their magic makes the dangers of infection a trivial thing. In any case, I was relieved to see that things had been tidied up.

  Nadine sat at her desk in the corner of the room. She gestured for me to sit in a chair across from her; once I was settled, she took another moment to organize her papers before turning her attention to me.

  “How are you holding up?” she asked.

  “Holding what up?”

  “It’s another way of asking how you feel. Are you okay after everything that happened?”

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  She offered a skeptical frown, and I realized that my fingers were digging into my legs.

  Relaxing, I added, “How are you…holding up?”

  She sighed and leaned back in her seat. “It’s been difficult. That was the hardest [operation] I’ve ever performed. I’m happy I was able to help my friend, and this could open up a lot of [opportunities] for me. All the same, this also comes with [unique] challenges.” Her sentences were uncharacteristically simple and clipped, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she had rehearsed this for my sake. “There are many things I wish I understood. Maybe you can help me understand.”

  “I see,” I replied.

  We looked at each other for a long while. She thought, perhaps, that if the silence dragged on long enough, I would feel compelled to fill it with answers.

  I did not feel so compelled.

  “That really is all you’re going to give me, then? I expected as much, but still…”

  She straightened back up in her seat and continued, hands folded on her desk in front of her. “I can’t deny that you have a talent for [healing magic?]. I would like to offer you an [apprenticeship].”

  “What does it mean, [apprenticeship]?”

  “An apprentice is like…something like a student, but you would also work as my [assistant],” she said, speaking slowly and taking care to choose words she thought I knew. “You would help me with my work as a physician.”

  “So it is like…” I searched for a word I’d heard Olrick use during mealtime. “…like job. But I also learn while doing.”

  “Something like that.” She stretched her mouth into an approximation of a smile. “I’m afraid I can’t [pay]…give you any money. You can still stay here [freely], and we will make sure you’re fed. And I will teach you everything I know, of course.”

  In Guntao, I’d be considered at least ten years too old for an apprenticeship. The idea was a little galling, to be honest, but I didn’t want to make any assumptions about how it worked in Panzea. “Am I too many years for apprenticeship?”

  Nadine laughed, but quickly caught herself when she saw my expression. “[Traditionally/usually?], yes, you would be too old,” she said. “Most apprentices start when they’re fifty years old, at the latest. And you’re… Excuse me, but I would guess you’re in your early seventies?”

  I did some quick conversions. Fifty Panzean years would be somewhere between fourteen and sixteen years in Guntao, and early seventies here should match mid twenties back home. (My love, if these calculations bore you, know that this is the sort of nonsense I deal with on a daily basis.)

  “That sounds right,” I said.

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  “It’s pretty [unconventional]—that is, not the way things are normally done. But I think there’s a lot I could teach you.”

  She was right, of course, but that only made the indignity of it all worse. “I think maybe there’s problem,” I said, taking care to keep the irritation from my voice.

  Nadine leaned back suddenly. “Ah, um… And that is?”

  “Please forgive my rude words,” I said. “I think maybe I am the better mage. It would be…not correct if I am your apprentice?”

  Her demeanor suddenly chilled, and she looked at me as though I had just spat in her face. I think I was being perfectly rational and even-tempered, but I suppose I must have intimidated her with my displays of magical prowess the other day.

  “I see what you mean,” she said stiffly. “You are, uh, very powerful. Impressive.” She paused to let the compliment, flimsy though it was, sink in. “But even if you are powerful, you don’t know how to cast any actual spells, do you?”

  She did have a point, yes. But I had already experienced a Panzean education at the hands of Jacque, and I wasn’t eager to repeat the process under Nadine.

  “I recognized the spell you were trying to cast when you first joined me in the street,” she continued. “An incredibly advanced spell, but it would have collapsed if you hadn’t let me take over. Your spellcasting is missing the [fundamentals]—the most basic things that young [healers] are taught.”

  Things I could learn from a book, surely.

  “And there is so much more to being a physician,” Nadine said, her voice regaining its confidence as she picked up momentum. “You must be able to [diagnose]—to recognize [symptoms] and tell what [illness] your patient has. The wrong spell can do more harm than good. These are things I can teach you, Why.”

  She waited patiently for my response. Did she think I would willingly subject myself to her tutelage, especially after she had worked so hard to thwart my efforts? Besides, there was a certain detail that she was overlooking.

  “But I don’t want to be physician,” I replied softly. “I just want to get husband’s body back.”

  She inclined her head toward me. “I thought you might say something like that. It would [be a shame?] if you didn’t take advantage of your talents. You could become a [very good?] physician with a few years’ training. But think about this… I know you are keeping secrets. I won’t try to [pry]—that is, I won’t try to learn your secrets unless you want to tell me—but there are others who will. If you are my apprentice, I can protect you from those people. And when I have my audience with Lord Governor Valia, you would come with me. That is what you want, isn’t it?”

  Once again, she waited patiently while I mustered up a response. “You did not want me to go audience before,” I said slowly. “And days ago, at party, you told to me that you did not want to take advantage. But now you want me to ‘take advantage’ of my talents. Forgive me for my more rude words, but maybe are you taking advantage of me this time?”

  “Taking advantage isn’t always a bad thing,” she said quickly. She halted then, frowned, and shook her head. “Maybe I am taking advantage of you a little bit. If you can [regularly/consistently?] use the kind of magic you showed me the other day, then it will be very helpful for my [practice]. But I am offering protection and education, and you can [quit] any time you want.”

  “You mean, after I have Valia’s audience, I can [quit]?” I asked her. “That is agreeable to you?”

  “I hope that you will decide to stay, but yes, that’s fine.”

  She really did seem sincere. And as indignant as I’d been moments ago—as much as I fought her proposal—this was precisely the opportunity I’d been looking for not even a week ago. I’d found a way to be useful to her, and now she was going to bring me one step closer to retrieving your body.

  “Yes,” I said, having taken a little too long in deliberation. “I will be your apprentice.”

  ***

  While I haven’t taken any proper lessons or begun my duties as Nadine’s apprentice yet, she did indulge me to answer a few questions. I fear my inquiries were so basic as to shock her. That’s fair, I suppose—I helped her to cast an ancient and powerful spell, yet I didn’t even know what her sphere of magic was called.

  Theramancy. I’m not certain how to translate this into Guntao language; it appears to be a word unto itself. In any case, it didn’t seem prudent to waste one of my few questions on etymology.

  The basic principle of Theramancy is to resonate aether with the human body’s core functions, thereby either enhancing them or inhibiting them. Nadine was quick to add that it’s both difficult and unethical to use Theramancy to cause direct harm, and applying the wrong aetheric frequencies can hinder the healing process.

  (There are some similarities with Truthbinding in that statement. Of course, there are stories of practitioners who could break the taboos without inflicting terrible pain on themselves, but those arts are not taught to upstanding mages for obvious reasons.)

  Theramancers can hasten the body’s natural healing process and cure all manner of chronic ailments, but it has its limitations. Theramancy cannot grant immortality, nor does it remove the recovery period entirely—this would explain why Nadine still needed to stitch Jacque’s incision closed by hand.

  It also only works on human beings. Animals experience no effect from healing magic at all. Heartless still benefit, but to a lesser extent than mages.

  (Here we find another startling difference between Guntao and Panzea. In Guntao, anyone can use magic, but a mage is someone who specializes in spellcraft. In Panzea, there is an entire caste of people who possess no magical will at all: the Heartless. The idea of a society split between mages and non-mages is stranger to me than the idea of a society with no mages at all.)

  Her tone of voice during this explanation was as a stern teacher speaking to a child. Perhaps young Theramancers develop wild ideas about what they might do with such magic. From my perspective, the idea of magic that is able to affect the physical world at all is astonishing.

  I have begun to slough off the fatigue of these past few days. For the first time in what feels like ages—though not even half a season has passed by my reckoning—I have hope in my heart.

  I see the path that takes me back to you.