Castle Kingside

Chapter 53: Controlled Clinical Trials

Frantic scratching against fabric and a faeries grinding teeth formed the ambiance of a still guest room on the second floor of Maltens castle. Green light from bleak skies poured through a window and onto Dimitrys nightstand. However, moonlight alone wasnt bright enough to sketch with precision. An enchanted lamp stood nearby to illuminate the surface of a linen-based sheet atop a v-shaped board.

No! Too much ink!

Dimitry smacked the edge of his penthe sharpened feather of some overgrown birdagainst the side of a small pot. Black liquid oozed from the quill into a murky pool below until only a smidgen remained on the nib.

Keep it flat! The inks dripping out!

Huffing a deep, frustrated breath, Dimitry tossed aside the quill. He couldnt summon the will to continue drawing. The severed head delivered to him earlier that day weighed heavily on his mind.

You were begging me to teach you writing etiquette, Precious said, and now youre just gonna give up? If I was a human, people would pay mounds and mounds of gold for my genius tutelage!

Doubt it.

She folded her arms over her chest. You dont know how good youve got it. Now stop brooding and get to work! How are we supposed to get rich if you keep slacking off?

Kind of hard to work knowing that whoever delivered the head did so to threaten me, Dimitry said. You confirmed it yourself. Someone is trying to get rid of me.

Its probably just Baldy.

You mean Josef?

Thats what I said: Baldy.

Precious had a point. Josef had shown only contempt for Dimitry since he revealed himself to be a surgeon, and just like the barbers of Ravenfall, Baldy had every reason to eliminate his competition and hog every client to himself.

But Dimitry feared the situation held more complexity than that. Remember when we arrived in Malten?

No. I somehow forgot what happened just two days ago.

In the throne room, the moment the nobles learned Saphiria was the crown princess, some of them started seething. Whether they think Im a political threat or because I thwarted someones power grab, what if theyre trying to get rid of me?

Then Precious trailed off.

Then?

Good luck.

Lots of help you are.

With a hand covered in grape guts, Precious patted his head. Its okay, Dumitry. Im sure everything will turn out fine. You will always have me by your side unless things get really dangerous, in which case Ill fly away and never look back.

Now I feel worse and have your dinner in my hair. Thanks.

Dont mention it.

Dimitry leaned back in his chair and massaged his tired eyelids with two outstretched fingers. Whoever his mysterious enemy was, he had three routes to combating them: getting more protection, interrogating Josef with Precious help, and winning the queens support by proving that only he could cure the plague. She would have no choice but to stop ignoring his requests for funding and manpower.

While all three solutions held merit, he resumed work on the most promising one: curing the plague. Dimitry snatched the quill once more, held it horizontally like Precious suggested, and resumed drawing outlines of the surgical tools he used to have limitless access to. Back when he worked in a modern hospital. Now he struggled to get basic supplies while trying to cure a damn plaguean outbreak that spread too swiftly.

Even the scribe that lent Dimitry these writing tools developed purple skin. How long until the disease spread to the rest of the castle? To the cooks that prepared this evenings banquet? To the queen? To Saphiria? Hell, perhaps it would infect Dimitry. Or maybe it already had. Hanging around diseased patients all day had its downsides. Either the plague would kill him, or a lack of political support from not curing it in time.

Precious crushed a violet grape between her flat teeth. Thash way beffer techniqth.

Movies made it look so simple, Dimitry mumbled.

Whafs that?

Just a thing we had back home.

The quills sharpened edge traced a scalpels rounded bladethe eighth variation of the same tool Dimitry sketched that night. Each had a different purpose, and therefore a different shape. His patients excessive necrotic tissue meant that debridement would become a frequent procedure. Scalpels alone wouldnt suffice. Dimitry began drawing a surgical spoon for scooping out petrified flesh husks. As soon as possible, he would find a craftsman skilled enough to turn his blueprints into tools.

Precious snuggled closer to Dimitrys neck as she lay on his shoulder, her golden ponytail tickling his cheek. Do you really need all of those?

Dimitry dipped the quill pen into the ink bowl. Each one serves a different function.

Half-eaten grape cradled in her arm, the corrupted creature continued to munch in his ear. She pulled his uniform over herself to use as a makeshift cover to stay cozy in a cold room. Thish shurjery shtuff ish preffy compflicated, huh?

Dont get my shirt dirty, too.

She giggled maliciously. Say, what you told those people in that cellar. I know you werent lying, but do you actually think you can cure the plague?

If theres anyone who can, its me.

Not too long ago, I wouldve just laughed at you. Precious pulled back. But weird guys like you are unpredictable.

Seriously. Stop touching my shirt with your sticky hands.

A quiet knock against wood came from the guest rooms door.

The faerie dropped her partially eaten grape, which splattered against the plank floor, and dove into her blanket-padded cabinet drawer.

Dimitry shut Precious makeshift home. Who is it?

Me, a familiar voice said.

Wasnt it too late at night for a princess to wander a castle on her own? Perhaps something happened. Setting aside his own troubles, Dimitry dropped his quill, approached the door, and opened it.

A raven-haired girl wearing a flowery yellow dress stood in an empty hallway lit only by enchanted illumina stones. Her bereaved and desperate indigo eyes met Dimitrys gaze. Saphiria didnt speak, instead running a gloved hand down her slender arm.

Something on your mind? Dimitry asked.

Yes.

He moved out of the way to let her in.

She flashed a smilethe most depressing one he ever sawwhen she trudged into the room. Saphiria glanced at his bed. May I take a seat?

Be my guest.

Saphiria lifted her dress and sat down.

After Dimitry shut the door, he occupied the chair by his desk.

The girl fiddled with her hair, pinching long, silken strands between her fingers and running them through her hand. She lifted her gaze from the floor. I have come for your opinion.

Im listening.

It may sound foolish.

Thats fine. Dimitry smiled. According to Precious, I sound foolish all the time.

I want to visit the mines.

The mines?

I think Father is there.

Is that where the royal mausoleum is?

Hes not dead! She glanced down at her slippers. Hes still out there, tabulating the ingot exports. All by himself.

Pity weighed heavily inside Dimitrys gut. Although the grieving process for close relatives often entailed denial, he couldnt encourage Saphiria to bumble around mineshafts in search of her dead father. It was a disaster waiting to happen. I know youre going through a hard time, and since you asked for my opinion instead of rushing out on your own, you know youre acting rashly. I think you should stay home and rest.

But what if hes waiting for me to find him and escort him home?

Give it some time. Calmer thoughts will prevail.

I cant Her voice cracked. I cant lose him.

Loss made people illogicala fact that cemented itself deeper within Dimitrys mind every day he worked at the trauma center. Family members cursed and cried and denied the deaths of their loved ones, even when given a chance to see a familiar and stiffening corpse. That went double for kindhearted people like Saphiria.

She grabbed his wrist. If you had the chance to rescue someone you loved, even if the chance was minuscule, wouldnt you take it?

Its a pointless risk.

I wont know until I try.

Realizing the futility of logic, Dimitry sighed. I trust I dont have to tell you of all people to be careful. Come find me if you need me for anything at all, and I mean anything. Okay?

I shall. Saphiria stood up and bowed. Thank you.

A fire whimpered within a furnace, painting the church cellar with light-infused shadows. Crouching by the flames was Clewinthe gray-haired man who was now Dimitrys employee.

He tended to a pit of burning crate debris, whose fire gently heated the bottom of a bowl filled with sand. The hot and grainy particles supported the rounded base of a distillation apparatus filled with abnormally high-alcohol ale. A steady stream of vapor expelled by the boiling beverage clamored up the instruments neck and into a downward-slanted condensing column. There, the freezia-enchanted glass tube cooled the pale wisps into ethanol, which dripped into a jug.

Dimitry grabbed the ceramic bottle and wafted its vapors below his nose. The smell was that of low-quality, earthy vodka. Satisfied, he placed the ceramic bottle back where it was. Looks good. Keep it up.

Its easier than I thought. Clewin turned away from the fireplace to smirk at Dimitry. Catching those damn rats was way harder.

Six, right?

Yeah, it was pretty dark in here last night. Neither the missus nor I could catch them all. Is it enough?

It should be enough for today. Dimitry glanced around the room.

Six squeaking containers lined up against the wall. Each housed a single diseased rodent under a rock-covered lid. Yesterday, the floor beneath them played host to splattered blood, rusted chains, ceramic scraps, and dirt. Now, only a bed made of bedclothes, among other necessities, rested on the ground.

You and your wife did a good job cleaning up the place. Dimitry placed a gold mark on a casket containing alethe couples promised advance. If you have the time tonight, Ill need you to catch more rats. Every single one will make it easier to cure the plague.

Hows that?

Ill show you in a bit.

Clewin turned around. To be honest, I still dont know what to believe. So many of us tried to cure this damn curse only to die from it ourselves. He pinched his skin, which was a darker shade of purple than yesterday. But if you can save one of us, please help Claricia. Shes been through a lot.

Theres still lots of work to be done in this city, Dimitry said. Itll be impossible for me to do it alone, so I cant let you or your wife die.

Ill try not to get my hopes up. The gray-haired man sighed. Theyve only let me down so far.

Although pessimistic, Clewins negativity was well-warranted. Dimitry himself was unsure of preservias efficacy at curing the plague, but it was his only promising lead in fulfilling the queens orders and his role as a surgeon.

The spell prevented decay, a process attributed to microorganisms. Could Dimitry target a specific disease with it? A specific symptom? Pathogen? Unfortunately, he couldnt test preservia with as much depth as he preferred. Time ticked on. Every wasted moment lined Maltens streets with additional corpses, and if he didnt hurry, Dimitry might join them.

He pulled the preservia towel off of a shelf upholding Zeran statuettes and crouched beside the vermin-filled containers. Dimitry lifted the lid of a small wooden box to find a rat squirming inside.

The creatures movements were slow. It didnt even try to escape.

According to Clewin, a former Volmer herbalist, human plague patients experienced delayed response times and muscle weakness in addition to purple skin. Five out of six captured vermin displayed identical symptoms. The outlier had darkened blisters protruding from gray fur in addition to skin discoloration. With shallow and rapid breaths, it lay on its back as if ready to meet its maker.

Dimitry set aside the container holding the near-dead rat: it wouldnt be useful in a controlled clinical trial. That meant he only had five critters to work with. A shame.

He pulled a jug housing the first subject across the floorthe control. The vermin inside wouldnt receive preservia treatment. Serving as a standard to gauge the typical progression of the plague, the unfortunate animals condition would only worsen.

Something thumped down the stairs. Where should I put the ale you asked for? It was Angelikas voice. She burst into the room, holding a knee-high wooden cask.

Just drop it anywhere and come here, Dimitry said. I need your help.

To cure the plague?

Yes.

She dropped the cask with a loud thunk and dashed to Dimitrys side. Her breaths heavy, Angelikas curly red-brown hair dangled from beneath her crimson hood as she knelt beside him. Just tell me what to do.

Dimitrys gaze fixed on the dark bags under her eyes. The poor girl must have spent all day worrying about her sick mother. Find something to sit on and catch your breath. This might take a while.

R-right. Angelika sat down on an empty wooden crate and focused intently.

First, did you ask for backup like we planned?

I told the sorceress guildmistress about the severed head, but Mira said she cant assign yet another precious darling to guard a no-name surgeon. Her gaze fell to the floor. Sorry.

Damn. Guess they were on their own. Its fine, Dimitry said as he slid a crate across the floor. Now I need you to cast preservia on this.

W-what? Im trained for combat, not for keeping food fresh.

Dimitry frowned. Angelika couldnt cast preservia, and his modified spells worked differently from other mages. But perhaps another route existed. If I cover this with the enchanted towel, will it be the same as casting preservia?

Angelika brushed her hair back behind her ear, revealing winter reddened cheeks. Depends on how long you leave the enchanted thing there.

To keep results consistent, Dimitry had to ensure that the same amount of magic affected each subject. An impossible task given the number of variables. His magic was imprecise, inefficient, and full of mysteries. I want to cast preservia with crude pellets on four rats and use the towel on the fifth. How long would I have to leave the towel there to use an equivalent amount of magic?

I cant say for sure, but probably until morning. Wait... Angelikas facial expression became one of betrayal. Your plan to cure the plague was preservia all this time?

Clewin, tending to the distillation apparatus, exhaled a loud sigh.

Its not that simple. Dimitry leaned forward. Remember how I showed you illumina last night? How its color differed from usual?

Angelika nodded.

Its likely that I can modify preservia in the same way. Dimitry wrapped the glowing pink towel around a rat-filled box. I know you dont like complicated explanations, so Ill spare you excessive details. All you have to know is, if any one of these vermin is cured by tomorrow, people can be too.

Her tired eyes opened wide. How?

Both rats and humans carry the same disease. If my magic cures them, itll cure us too.

But theyre rats. Angelika tapped a vase, which squeaked in response to her provocation. Are you sure thisll work?

No. He wasnt sure. Far from it. Instead of responding to her question, he gave the girl a forced, reassuring smile. There were significant flaws in Dimitrys approach: a lack of understanding and his poor control over magic.

When Ignacius chanted preservia aboard the Dirty Matilda, the spell didnt produce any immediately visible effects. Although a harmless nuisance for an accomplished wizard who could manipulate magic at a whim, for Dimitry, it was catastrophic. How would he know if he hit his target? If his previous attempts at illumina were anything to go by, preservias effects would scatter throughout the room instead.

Or was there another way?

On the ship to Malten, Ignacius warned Dimitry to always aim magic at least a few paces away while he learned the art. Safety advice for novices. The issue was that increased distance led to decreased precision. What if Dimitry targeted the area just in front of his hand? Could he accurately control magic if he kept the distance to a minimum?

He pulled a crude pellet from out of his pouch and rested it between the creases of his palm. After absorbing the vol, he guided its power through his body and concentrated the warm sensation in his other hand, aiming at the area directly in front of its core. He targeted electrons in nitrogen gas. Illumina.

A ball of violet light, the size of a beach ball with a center more radiant than its edges, engulfed his lower arm.

It wasnt perfect, but itd do.

Angelika furrowed her eyebrows. Is that part of your plan too?

Just a warm-up. Dimitry reached for a ceramic pitcher housing the third rat. One hand grabbed a crude pellet while the palm of his other pressed against the containers base. He absorbed the vol and thought of transferring the energy coursing through his circuits into the viruses contaminating the animals body, heating genetic material so violently and at such high temperatures that it would degrade and never retake its original shape, causing the infection to wane.

Preservia.

When Dimitry glanced inside the pitcher, it was just as he feared. A purple-skinned rat continued to bumble around without any indication of the spells success. Perhaps once the animals immune response died down, its symptoms would improve.

Dimitry repeated the process for the two remaining vermin. He targeted the DNA of microscopic parasites in one, and the circular DNA of bacteria in the other.

Half-assed attempts, the lot of them.

Without knowing the physical properties of the plague-causing culprits, whether they were multicellular, gram-positive, gram-negative, RNA or DNA-based, Dimitry couldnt give his spells specific targets or pathways to achieve their intended effects. If what he learned aboard the ship to Malten was accurate, both factors were necessary for modified magic to function well.

He hoped he was wrong.