Date: 1-2-165

  Please remember that I do this all for you.

  ***

  Jacque was distracted during our tutoring session this morning.

  It has been just over a week since my last entry. I once again skipped church; as fascinating as it is to observe Panzean society, it is mastery of language and medicine that will grant me access to House Valia, so my time is better spent in study. I do believe my efforts in this regard have been fruitful, as I’ve learned much of both fields these past eleven days.

  Anyway, as I mentioned, Jacque was distracted. He started today’s lesson by covering material we had already studied several days ago. I pointed this out, and he jumped ahead to a topic that was rather beyond my grasp. As inefficient as I find Panzean teaching styles to be, this degree of disorganization was unusual.

  “A something is bothering you.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “You did that on purpose.”

  “Yes, you have caught me.” I offered him a playful smile. I’m still not certain why “a something” is incorrect under the Panzean grammar system, but at least this proved he was paying attention.

  “It is not amusing.” He met my smile with a dull, half-lidded glare. He really could be terribly humorless at times. “And nothing is—”

  “No,” I said. “Your teaching is sloppy today. Something is…” I searched for the right idiom. “…on your mind.”

  The corner of his lips turned up into something like a sneer, and then he sighed. “I do not like that you read me so easily, Miss Why, but there is perhaps something you should know.” He watched me coolly, waiting until I was sufficiently tense before continuing.

  “Our mutual acquaintance, Doctor Siltstrom, is asking after you at church. It is starting to draw some attention.”

  This was hardly a surprise. The man had made his interest quite clear at our last meeting. “Is this something to worry me?”

  I must have made a grammatical error; he had a certain expression he only wore when I made a mistake. Rather than correct me, he answered my question.

  “Right now, the people love Nadine.” He spoke slowly. “She brings them miracles, and she wields spells from the Era of Empires. That she has an enigmatic apprentice only adds to her mystique, no?”

  “These are good things, I think. But there is still something for you to worry?”

  “Something worries me, yes,” he said. I made a mental note about my usage of the word “worry,” but otherwise let him continue. “You recall that I was once one of his patients, yes? After the accident, I of course placed myself into Nadine’s care. But I am not the only one; as Nadine’s reputation has grown, she has taken many patients from other doctors—Siltstrom included.”

  He idly thumbed his tablet as he spoke, sending waves of color across its surface. “The Lord Governor will soon choose his new personal physician. Doctor Siltstrom thought he was the obvious choice, but now even that [blathering egomaniac] can see that Nadine is the forerunner in this absurd competition of theirs.”

  “A [blathering egomaniac]? I have a guess that this is a bad thing.” I couldn’t resist the pull of new vocabulary. “Why did you have him be your doctor?”

  Jacque flushed at my question, but he opted to focus on the vocabulary first. “To blather is to constantly speak nonsense, and an egomaniac is one who thinks too highly of himself. As for Siltstrom, he is an old family friend who agreed to see me for a very good rate…” He shook his head clear. “That is not any of your business. The important thing is that he now feels cornered, and I do not know what he might do to get at you.”

  “You mean he is dangerous,” I suggested. “Then should we call, em, city watchmen?”

  “He hasn’t actually done anything wrong. Nor do I think he will. No, it would be unthinkable, really.” He gave me a weak smile. I couldn’t tell if this was what he actually believed or merely what he wanted to believe. “It is just a bad feeling I have when I speak with him, but, in the end, I am sure it is nothing. Now, let us return to our lesson. I would like to hear you using articles correctly by the end of the day.”

  ***

  The question of Siltstrom was still on my mind when Nadine summoned me to assist with a patient. A woman with freckled skin and a broad forehead sat on the examination table of Nadine’s home office, already in her undergarments. I vaguely recalled seeing her a few days before, though I hadn’t been called in to help for that visit—it was a routine examination and Nadine thought my time was better spent in study.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The woman was hunched over and there were dark rings under her eyes; she didn’t seem aware of my presence as I entered. Nadine stood in front of her, lips pursed, as she examined the thermometer in her hand.

  “Ah, this is my apprentice, Why,” Nadine said, though the woman only gave a grunt in answer. Directing her attention to me, she continued, “Missus Hass has a pretty persistent case of influenza. This strain seems to resist the standard curing spell, but together we should clear it up easily enough.”

  I gave Missus Hass a closer look. Pale (though it can be difficult to tell with Panzeans sometimes). Shivering. Skin beaded with sweat. “Symptoms?” I asked. “She vomited?”

  “Vomit, watery stools, fatigue. I diagnosed her when she last came in,” Nadine said with a disapproving intake of breath. She made a valiant effort to temper her voice with patience and nearly succeeded. “I appreciate that you’re eager to learn, but I would rather not leave Missus Hass to suffer any longer than she has to. Shall we begin?”

  Ever since that day at the clinic, a certain pattern has emerged. Nadine still spends an hour or two a day instructing me on the finer points of her profession, but, when I assist her, it is simply to aid her with her spellcasting. She has no interest in my insights and she offers me no opportunity to practice diagnosis. As far as she is concerned, I am merely a well from which to draw aether.

  It is not that I am interested in becoming a physician, of course. So long as it brings us to Lord Governor Valia, I should be happy to let her use me in this way.

  And yet, I didn’t feel inclined towards being used in such a way this time. I would like to say that I experienced a flash of insight, that I intuitively recognized that Missus Hass’ life was in imminent danger. Alas, I fear my actions were motivated by my momentary irritation with Nadine.

  I allowed my language spell to drop away, focusing on Theramantic Recall and my own personal library spell. Nadine said my name several times at increasing volume, but I was intent on examining the patient before we began.

  There was a sickly sweet odor to Missus Hass’ breath, which seemed incongruous with influenza. There was something familiar there, something I’d recalled from Guntao rather than Panzea. I flipped through pages of writing in my mind, seeking out a specific high-profile death from long ago…

  I couldn’t quite remember the words for Nadine’s enchanted torch, so, rather than ask for it, I plucked it from her overcoat. I shined the light directly in Missus Hass’ eyes, and there—yes!—her pupils had a delayed dilation response. This was consistent with my suspicion about her true malady.

  I reluctantly (perhaps begrudgingly) switched back to the language spell. “One does not come usually to the doctor for an influenza. I am thinking that something specific worries you.” I was fairly certain I used the word correctly that time. “How long are you sick for?”

  Missus Hass hemmed and Nadine asked, “Why, is there a reason you’re—”

  “It’s been weeks,” Missus Hass admitted in a small voice.

  Nadine turned sharply. “You didn’t tell me that last time.”

  “She has poisoned,” I explained. The answer had come from a historical record of imperial lineage: Emperor Sao had been poisoned by one of his advisers, given in small doses of a certain crushed leaf in his morning tea. He developed symptoms congruent with influenza, but he also had sluggish reflexes and unusually sweet breath. This last aspect of his illness was noticed too late.

  Nadine disagreed with my diagnosis at first. I shan’t go into the details, but in the end I made both her and Missus Hass see that the symptoms were a perfect fit.

  “Please, begin a spell,” I told Nadine, biting back the mild ache that had begun to form behind my eyes. She hesitated, but I insisted, “Now.”

  She let forth a spark, uncertain and ill-formed, of Theramantic vibration, and I seized it. My overcoat fell to the floor as I spread my arms wide, gathering wide swaths of aether. I fed Nadine’s spark with my own magic, giving the spell shape. From my Theramantic Recall, I knew that this would be a delicate procedure: I would need to draw out the right vibrations to reinforce weakened membranes, to make her organs reject the foul blood and take in the good, to force her stomach to expel any poison it had not yet digested.

  Nadine stood, frozen, as I poured wave upon wave of Theramantic magic into Missus Hass. It was only when the poor woman doubled over, heaving and retching the contents of her stomach onto the floor in thin yellow streams, that Nadine surged forward and held her steady.

  I continued casting until the sun had waned to a half-circle in the sky, filling the office with its reddish light. I let the spell go, and the fatigue hit me all at once. Grabbing a chair for support, I asked, “How is her status?”

  Nadine helped Missus Hass lie down on the examination table. “She’ll be—” Remembering her bedside manner, she turned to address the patient. “You should be okay, but I’d like to keep you here for observation.” She looked back to me.

  “Fetch Olrick and tell him to summon the watch.” Thinking better of her tone, she added, “Please. If you wouldn’t mind—I’ll take care of Missus Hass and gather the, um, evidence. But if her husband really is the one who was poisoning her, I’d hate for him to get away.”

  I nodded, then made my way to find Olrick.

  ***

  On this day, Nadine was made to feel the vast gap in our abilities. My intention was not to humble her, but to save the life of her patient. It is better for her to understand these things if we are to work together.

  Even as I write these words, I have trouble believing them.

  Perhaps there is a way I could have helped Missus Hass without subjecting Nadine to this embarrassment. But is there a point to dissecting my decisions now? Our relationship has always had a contentious element to it. At dinner, she could not look me in the eyes. I doubt we can ever be friends after today.

  That’s fine. I don’t want friends. The only person I need is you.

  Oh, you’ll be pleased to learn that the city watch was dispatched to arrest Mister Hass. Missus Hass is convinced that he was the one behind it, though I couldn’t quite follow the reasoning as to why he would do such a thing.

  Some marriages are doomed, I suppose.