Of Kings and Killers (Elder Empire Sea #3) - WIll Wight Page 0,43

the bulky mask. “While nothing is certain, I am confident enough to say that she should be on her feet and speaking by no later than noon tomorrow.”

Calder gestured for a servant to pay the man. The alchemist accepted the thick stack of silvermarks with a deep bow and scurried away as though Calder would change his mind.

“Generosity costs nothing.” It was a strange saying, often repeated by philosophers. Calder considered it a sort of riddle.

By definition, generosity cost something.

Even so, he could afford to be generous here. If Teach survived her wounds, that would be worth more than a ship full of goldmarks.

He needed her.

The Watchman doctor stepped up after the alchemist had left. Calder had forgotten the woman’s name, but he still trusted the opinion she whispered into his ear. “If he developed this cure on ordinary people, it will almost certainly not be effective here. Her biology is unique, and it seems to change every hour.”

The Capital had no shortage of medical alchemists, even with the Guild on the side of the Independents. And of course it had doctors, surgeons, healers, and researchers aplenty.

They had stitched up Jarelys Teach’s wounds within hours, removed debris from her skin before it scarred, and administered healing agents. Even after all that treatment, she had looked like a corpse left to dry in the desert.

It was only when he turned to the experienced doctors of the Imperial Guard and the Watchmen that he had found useful professional opinions. They were used to dealing with patients that had unusual or illogical biology, and they confirmed that the Guild Head’s heart was responding strangely to the dark Intent that had afflicted her.

Would she wake up? In time, she would. Even the freelance alchemists and scam artists agreed on that.

But when she did, would she still be her? No one was certain.

“I’m going to see her,” Calder said, and no one stopped him.

The air stank of harsh alchemical solutions and rotting fruit, presumably because of the device in the corner that spritzed a green cloud into the air every few seconds. That would be the beak-masked alchemist’s treatment, and Calder stayed far enough away from it to avoid taking in a lungful of gas.

At some point over the last week, Teach had stopped looking like a dried husk. Either someone’s treatment had helped or it was simply the broth she was force-fed twice a day.

But she no longer looked like herself.

Her skin was mottled dark and light, which might not have been unusual, except the light and shadow seemed to be arranged in a pattern. As though color had been painted into her skin. The lightest patches had a lavender tinge, while the darker spots could be called purple.

Her ears had grown long, thin, and swept-back, and her hair had started to grow back—after the initial half-inch of blonde, it was growing glacial blue.

Her constitution was based on the Bonereaver heart with which she had replaced her own. According to the medical alchemists, the heart was taking over the rest of her body in an attempt to keep her alive.

Day by day, the pattern on her skin became sharper, less blurred, and she began to breathe more heavily, even shifting around in the bed.

It was clear that she was transforming. She might wake up enhanced, stronger than before, but Calder didn’t trust any transformation that was triggered by a clash of destructive Intent and a Kameira’s heart.

The sooner Teach woke, the better.

The irony of it all was that the Independents could have easily treated her. One and all, the experts had recommended contacting Luminian Pilgrims for their healing powers, the Consultants for their vast store of strange knowledge, Kanatalia for the best medical alchemists in the world, or the Greenwardens for their Kameira expertise. Some had even suggested begging Jorin Curse-breaker to intervene.

If I could do that, she wouldn’t be in this position to begin with.

He left before he breathed in too much of the strange alchemy, where he found two Imperial Guards waiting for him.

He knew where they were bringing him without having to ask. It was almost time for his meeting with the Guild Heads.

That would be a lonely affair.

Cheska Bennett waited in one of the Imperial Palace’s comfortable sitting-rooms, her bare feet propped up on a footstool. Her hair was wet and she wore a fluffy white bathrobe, but she didn’t look refreshed. She stared ahead, haunted.

Bliss didn’t look much better. She had stabbed a decorative sword into the wall and