Page 2 of A Healer's Wrath

There were only ten questions on the parchment. Each involved a real-world scenario in which formulae required calculation or compounds needed to be mixed in precise amounts. As I stared at the page, reading each question before beginning my work, I was grateful for the endless hours my parents had drilled me on mathematics and its application to the healing arts.

How did others who did not grow up in the home of physikers pass these tests?

With half the sand remaining in the upper bowl, I startled Master Rist awake with a poke of the rerolled scroll.

“Sir?”

“What? Is everything—?” He jolted upright. “Ah, yes, Irina. Forgive me. I must have drifted off.”

He glanced at the hourglass. His eyes, distorted by his lenses, widened to comedic proportions.

“Are you sure you want to hand that in? You still have ten minutes.”

My bony shoulders raised. “I’m done. It wasn’t very hard.”

Strands of hair drifted in every direction as his brows rose, then he took the scroll. Unfurling it, he scanned one question after the next.

“My dear, this is excellent. Truly excellent,” he said.

“Thank you, sir.”

He rolled the scroll, tapped it on the hourglass, then peered up at me. “What was the name of the farmer in the fourth question?”

“Sir?”

“You heard me. In question four, what was the farmer’s name?”

“Cedric, sir. What does—?”

“And the name of the potter in question nine?”

I blinked. “Anders, sir.”

His brows bunched but still drifted on the breeze. “And what ailment would cause the symptoms described in question two?”

I tilted my head to the side. The question had only stated the patient’s symptoms, height, and approximate weight. It required me to calculate the amounts of each ingredient listed. There was no mention of the underlying illness. But I had spent so many days watching Mother and Father as they tended sick and injured, ticking through a list of symptoms felt familiar, comfortable even.

“Well, sir”—I stared into the emptiness of the far wall—“the patient suffered from aches in his stomach, cramping, and an inability to pass waste. There was no mention of fevers or sweating, no note about dilation of the pupils or changes in the skin. The ingredients suggested for the cure were chamomile, lavender or sage, garlic, and water.”

I thought a moment.

“I believe the patient suffered from constipation and some form of mild stomach upset, perhaps caused by consumption of sour milk or other ruined food. The physiker likely added the garlic as a precaution, not necessarily to treat what the patient presented.”

“Is that all?” Rist scratched his chin and stared.

The Master was goading me. It was good-natured, for sure, and I didn’t think he expected an answer. I gave him one anyway. “I would suggest adding elderberry. In addition to being another preventative, should the patient suffer from some germ-related ailment, this might also make the potion taste better for the patient. The original combination would be quite foul going down.”

Rist’s rumbling laugh startled me.

“That it would.” He rose, struggling to unwedge his girth from the narrow chair. “Irina, you answered every question correctly, but what amazes me is how you recalled everything with such clarity. How old are you, child?”

“Twelve, sir,” I answered, my swelling pride from his praise warring with a perpetual fear of judgement.

“Twelve.” He shook his head, repeating the number more to himself than to me. “All right. You did well in your first test. Follow me, and we’ll see how you fare in more practical exams.”

I followed the Master into the hallway, where he led me back toward the front of the building before entering what looked like an empty patient examination room. A long metal table stretched at the center of the room. On the wall nearest the door, several rows of shelves held bottles and jars with neat lettering pointing outward. Below the shelves was a countertop on which physikers’ equipment lay spread and ready for use.

“Have a seat.” Master Rist motioned to the two wooden chairs whose backs were pressed against the far wall.

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