Month 12, Day 7, 5:30AM

Frank Poe

The lamps were lit, and shadows still pooled between them, even as the sky was lit with the moonlight.

Frank ran away from Millie Parker’s house and down street with Marie in his arms, but it was empty, so he didn’t even bother calling out. Frank didn’t make it far before a bearded man with stained clothes came out of a building, and called out to Frank.

“Hey! Where you running there? Hey!”

Frank slowed for a few beats and stopped running.

“There’s an aberrant. An Aberrant, man! At Millie Parkers’.” Frank called out desperately. “Call the Red Guard! the Coppers!”

“What?”

“Are you thick? Run to the Coppers! My apprentice has been stabbed! An aberrant is at Millie Parkers’.” Frank turned his head and pointed with his chin toward the house down the street that he’d fled from.

The bewildered man stopped in his doorway with a blank look.

“Go! An Aberrant! Run straight to the Coppers!” Frank repeated.

Thus excoriated, the man seemed to suddenly understand. Gilbratha was the most magical city in the world. People knew what to do when there was an aberrant. He took off running, work boots slapping hard on the road.

“Poe.” Marie said as she woke from unconsciousness.

“Marie?”

“It hurts Poe. I think … stabbed myself.”

“Shh. I have a healing potion here.”

“I think I’m bleeding on your coat.”

“Never-mind that. I’m going to put you down.”

“I’ve never been stabbed before.”

“Shh.”

“I don’t like it.” She whispered.

“I’ve got a mild healing potion here, it should help with the wound, but … I have to pull the knife out while you drink. Can you do that?”

Through gritted teeth, Frank saw that Marie nodded in the moonlight. Or perhaps the sun brightened the morning; Frank had lost his sense of the time.

Frank carried her to the step of the building the man had run from. Frank carefully knelt, with Marie propped on his lap. She squeezed her eyes hard shut against the pain, and breathed in sharply.

Even with the streetlamp, Frank couldn’t really see Marie’s injury. Frank shook the moonlight sizzle again to renew its light, and held it close to Marie’s chest. It’s soft glow felt unnaturally light, even harsh after the flight through the darkness. Frank got a better look at the knife wound. Marie’s black dress had the look of wetness where the blood seeped through the fabric. There was a lot of blood there.

Frank brought out his flask of healing potion and set it down at the ready. He had never done this before, but he knew what needed doing. Hesitation did not serve a sorcerer. Or, at least, that’s what he told himself.

He grasped the knife, and pulled it free, and put it in a pocket, blood smearing his hands. He felt Marie’s warm blood on his fingers. She cried out, but Frank brought the potion to her lips, and, to his relief, she drank. When it was almost down, she convulsed in pain, and she coughed hard, and whimpered at that.

“It hurts. It still hurts.” Marie cried. She had tears streaming down her face.

Something was wrong, and Frank had no idea what it was.

“A healer, Marie, where is the nearest healer?”

“Can’t …” Marie started to say, but then she stopped talking, and she convulsed and passed out.

She looked so pale. She was still breathing, but Frank was very afraid she’d lost too much blood and was dying.

Frank needed a healer, and he had no idea where to get one. The Morrows and the parlor were in the area, but, the Morrows had already failed to help Millie, would they help Marie? They were out; Frank didn’t trust the Morrows.

He looked down at the bottle of moonlight sizzle that he’d bought from the Verdant Stag. The Stags dealt in honesty, of a sort. He’d have to pay, but surely they’d have a good healer on retainer. They were open, and it wasn’t so far.

Poe took a deep breath, then picked up Marie, and started jogging toward the Verdant Stag.

At first, adrenaline kept him going. Then fear. Then sheer stubborn will to arrive and demand a healer.

When he did finally arrive at the Verdant Stag, his legs were burning, but the grand edifice of the building, lit within, was one of the most beautiful sights he’d seen in years. The light of a new day was slowing turning everything near blue with morning light.

When Frank stumbled into the antler festooned entryway, Marie felt like a lead weight in his arms. She was still breathing, he was sure, but she had not woken, and barely stirred. Her sleep, however, was unsettled and she grunted in pain and even said a few words in delirium.

An enforcer met him at the door. The man took one look Frank’s blood coated hands and grasped immediately what needed to be done.

“Healer?” He asked.

Frank, exhausted, nodded.

“For you or her?”

Frank, finally catching his breath, replied, “Just her, but we must hurry, she was stabbed.”

The enforcer nodded. “It’ll cost. You prepared to pay?”

“Absolutely.” Frank replied.

The man lead them into a side room on the same floor; a professional had prepared the room to treat injuries. The room had a clean cot, towels, and even some potions at hand. There was a slate table in the middle of the room for healing.

The enforcer directed Frank to put Marie down on the cot, while he called for the healer by pulling a bell.

To Frank, she seemed so cold, and even more pale than normal. Frank swept her black hair away from her face. She took ragged, uneven breaths, even in unconsciousness. She didn’t seem to be bleeding anymore, but he looked down at himself and realized his coat, which was self cleaning, still had blood on the wide sleeves and on his chest where he’d held her against his body. These stains we already fading, but it was hard to know how much blood Marie had lost.

A stern-looking healer entered with a young male assistant and immediately began to appraised the situation. The enforcer moved to stand just inside the door. There was no question of giving permission.

“Call me Healer Nidson. What’s the injury?”

“She was stabbed in a fight.”

“With you?”

“No. We were attacked.”

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“Where?” Nidson asked.

“We were in Morrow’s territory, and I didn’t know where to find a healer we could trust.” Frank explained.

Nidson slashed his hand in a nullifying motion. “No. Where in her body was she stabbed?”

“Oh, ah, chest. Her left side.”

“Help me cut this dress off.” Nidson said. The assistant laid out tools, while Nidson moved to wash his hands, then gestured for Frank to do the same. “You will help me and my assistant.” When Frank hesitated, Nidson continued. “She is not a relative or lover?”

Frank shook his head. “Employee … and apprentice. Sorry.”

“Come on then. Wash your hands. You can apologize to her later.”

“Sorry.” Frank repeated. He washed up. Nidson took a heavy pair of shears and, with Frank’s and the assistant’s help, cut Marie’s boots and dress off of her immobile body.

Looking at Marie’s nude body for the first time, Frank realized how thin and frail she actually was. Her elbows and knees looked overlarge on her, with insufficient muscle, and her hip bones were better defined than they should have been. Frank was shocked; he thought she’d ate well. But the black dresses with long sleeves and tall boots had been covering her knees and elbows, hiding her thinness. She wasn’t skeletal, but she seem much thinner than he’d thought.

She was also covered in bruises that Frank had not seen in the dark; her arms, shoulders, and legs had purple marks, cuts, and scrapes, and there was a huge faded mark of fingers wrapped around one forearm.

“Myrddin preserve us, did you beat her?!” The assistant exclaimed. Nidson’s severe look shut the young man’s mouth before he could continue.

“No.” Frank whispered, as he shook his head. She looked like she’d rolled down a stair or something. Had she been laying somewhere unconscious while he’d been snared?

They revealed more bruises as they stripped off the bodice of the dress; but that was not the only surprise. Marie had a complex black spell array tattooed over the center of her chest, directly over her heart.

“Did you know about this?” Nidson demanded, gesturing at the tattoo. He’d let the bruises pass without comment, but this was on a completely different level.

“No.” Frank replied firmly. “She never mentioned it.”

Frank could read most of the glyphs in the tattoo, and that gave him pause. In the array, the glyph for blood had been tucked in one corner. Marie had a blood enchantment.

What happened to give her a tattoo like that?’ Frank wondered. But, this was barely a stray thought compared to the distress of Marie’s most severe injury.

The knife wound itself was and angry bloody mark on Marie’s left side, and was clearly her worst injury. Luckily, it seemed to have stopped bleeding. There was bruising and dried blood that they needed to clean. Nidson had his assistant work on the cleaning, while directing Frank to get clean towels and clear water.

To start, Nidson cast a diagnosis spell. Immediately after, he began administering potions, but then, after the wound was cleaned, he had Poe and the assistant move Marie to the slate table, where he performed a direct healing.

Frank knew that healing was a difficult and sometimes dangerous art, but Nidson made it seem easy. He treated Marie’s wound quickly and efficiently. The wound closed with only a pale scar, and Marie’s breath relaxed and color finally started coming back to her face and arms. The severe injury taken care of, they dressed Marie in a loose surcoat-like garment that tied on both sides of Marie’s body.

Nidson cast another diagnostic spell.

“What about the will strain? What do you know about that?” Nidson asked.

“Will strain! She shouldn’t have … oh.” Frank realized, then, why the Raven’s call had seemed so loud. In a panicked state, Marie had likely put all her will into it.

“We were trapped in a situation with … what I believe was an aberrant. I think my apprentice overcharged a simple beginner spell to help us escape. Unsupervised, and against my direction, but she was probably desperate. She was attacked and stabbed after.”

“The alarms haven’t sounded.”

Frank shook his head.

“I asked a bystander to go notify the Red Guard, but they probably forgot.”

“Forgot? How could they …? You’re Frank Poe. Of course.” Nidson, turned to the enforcer, “We need to notify the Red Guard that there’s a potential aberrant incident.” Nidson asked Frank for the location, and after Frank gave the address, Nidson repeated it.

“You should write it down.” Frank added.

The enforcer grabbed a pencil and pad and quickly wrote the address at Frank’s direction. He then dashed out of the room.

Nidson wasted no time in returning to the topic.

“The will strain is mild, and with healing her other injuries, most of the worst of it has been mitigated. She’s underweight for her age, but given her heart condition, she probably has trouble putting on weight.”

“The tattoo.” Frank observed.

“Yes. She probably had some sort of heart failure as a small child or infant. In fact, that tattoo probably kept her heart pumping when it otherwise would have stopped from shock on the way here.”

Frank cringed, and rubbed his unshaven face. She’d almost died saving him.

“Also, she needs to eat better.” Nidson lectured. “Higher protein foods and lightweight fats. Milk, cheese, fish, fresh vegetables, and dulse. Give her nourishing draught to make sure she’s getting the vitamins; her body may be having trouble digesting and distributing nutrients to her muscles and organs.”

“I didn’t know.”

“A proper master should be paying attention to these things.” Nidson replied. “You specialized in divination as journeyman. I am sure you learned some diagnostic spells.”

His words were mild, but Frank felt like they’d been delivered like a slap.

“How … do you know me?”

“You are a famous case study for failed divination magic. You’ve been the source of several academic papers, and a note in the Lenore Healer’s Journal.”

“Ah. It was Fate magic.”

“As you say. Apparently, one needs to cast a memory spell to keep from forgetting meeting you?”

“That worked for some of the healers, but not all. A clear, forceful, and detailed will is often enough to remember, but most people just take notes. It doesn’t keep them forgetting, but your mind can’t forget a written record.”

“Notes it is then.” Nidson took a notebook from a shelf and began writing.

Meanwhile Frank and the assistant moved Marie to the cot, then covered her with blankets, and put a pillow under her head.

The tension Frank had felt from the overusing his magic, the adrenaline from the fight, and the anxiety of bringing Marie to the Stags were all wearing off. The relief left behind a bone deep exhaustion and aches. Frank fished in his coat for a pocket watch, and realized that Marie had received hours of treatment. Frank sat in a chair, and rubbed his face.

Nidson looked up from his writing and observed Frank for a moment.

“Now that the apprentice has been seen to, let’s take a look at the master, shall we?”

“I’m fine.” Frank replied.

“You are not. You seem to be suffering from will strain, exhaustion, muscle strain - at least in you legs and hands - and your ear is bruised and cut.”

“What?” Frank noticed the pain—actually pains—in his head, but he didn’t think it was that bad.

Nidson, however, disabused him. Frank’s injuries were only less severe than Marie’s in the sense that he hadn’t been stabbed. Frank had fallen hard to the floor at least once, and his fight against the sycophants wasn’t as free of injury as he’d thought.

Nidson gave him a healing potion, nourishing draught, and told Frank sternly to stop casting spells for two weeks.

Frank sighed. He’s have to rely on more mundane investigative methods. Again.

He was just so tired.

After Nidson took some additional notes, he gestured for his assistant to help Frank move Marie.

“We’ll get you both tucked into a room, and after you rest we’ll see about payment.” As Nidson said this, powerful resonant alarms began to sound.

“That would be the call to get to shelters.” Frank said.

The noise woke Marie, but she was barely out of her dream.

“Poe, we can’t have the Raven Queen visit. We don’t have any hot water for tea, and she’ll want bone tea.” Marie mumbled. “Where can we buy bone tea, anyway?”

“It’s ok, we won’t be inviting the Raven Queen over today. We’re going to have a long rest.” Frank soothed. “I’ve got you.” He lifted her gently off the cot.

Marie, eyes closed, murmured something close to “ok” and she fell deeper into sleep.

“We have a shelter for the wealthier guests of the inn.” The assistant observed, the four of them headed out of the clinic.

With Marie in his arms, Frank trouped with the crowd to the shelter. The Verdant Stag may have reserved the shelter for guests, but this seemed to be liberally interpreted, because everyone in the lunchtime crowd seemed to find a place in the Stag’s shelter. The underground shelter, little more than a warded basement, filled completely.

But, Nidson found a cot for Marie, and Frank sat on the floor leaning against a nearby wall. Nidson and his assistant went to look after an old woman who was mashed against a wall as she’d attempted to enter the shelter.

Frank was in the crowd, but loneliness pressed down on him. How sad was the state of affairs in the city that he’d gone to criminals for help.

Moreover, Frank’s eyes felt sore and weak. His eyelids kept trying to close, even as he glared suspiciously at those around him.

The shelter seemed safe, but he discounted the possibility that a pickpocket or rogue might pass over a sleeping target. He could not let down his guard. Frank needed to keep Marie safe, but if he’d actually been threatened, he would have been weak as a kitten. The potions at work in his body pushed him to exhaustion. His pipe was tucked away, but he could neither summon the will to light it and cast magic, or the strength to wield it.

After many long blinks, Frank kept up the struggle to keep awake. No serious academic student didn’t have their little tricks to keep alert. Frank pulled out a notebook and scribbled spell arrays from memory, while simultaneously trying hard not to look like an easy target and worriedly observing Marie sleep.

Eventually, the call of all clear allowed everyone out. Frank, dazed and barely alert enough to stand on his own, was led to a room with a bed big enough for four. When he made sure Marie was tucked away under the covers on one side, he removed his boots, and he lay himself on top of the covers on the far end.

The High Crown’s own bed couldn’t have been more comfortable, and even fully dressed, Frank fell asleep instantly.