Page 4 of A Healer's Wrath

I suppose that was a lesson in itself.

This was also the first time I had ever left home. My whole world revolved around Mother and Father. We were rarely apart. I had never even slept under another roof without my parents in a room nearby. As we bounced from one examination room to the next, I couldn’t help wondering if the Master’s infirmary would ever feel like home.

And then there was the Master himself.

He seemed nice enough, but Rist was five times my age and a relative stranger. I’d met him a few times while attending various gatherings with my parents, but he had barely acknowledged my presence.

Now, I was the center of his attention.

Now, I was in his care.

Oddly, as I trailed my fingers along the stone walls of the hallway, I felt no fear at being separated from Mother and Father. I wasn’t some jumble of nerves or filled with gloom about being on my own. I felt only anticipation for what lay ahead.

When we finished, Rist did not conclude the tests. He never said, “We’re finished,” or “Nicely done. That ends your exams.” He simply opened the door, glanced back, and said, “Follow me,” then led me down the eternal hallway to the far end of the building. As we stepped into yet another chamber, I froze in the doorway, a jolt of childish alarm stilling my heart.

Seated along a rectangular table at the center of a large room, spooning a brothy stew and chatting, were two boys and a girl, each wearing the white smock of an apprentice. Rist waddled around the table toward a counter on the opposite wall, where he ladled stew from a large iron pot.

The others ignored their Master, just as he had shunned them in favor of his dinner.

Conversation died as the trio turned and stared at me.

“Hullo,” a foppish boy sitting nearest to the door said, raising his spoon as if to wave. I knew apprentices were not admitted before their twelfth summer, but the boy was a scrawny thing I doubted would rise to my shoulder when he stood. He reminded me of the brother I never had but always pictured in my mind. The awkward innocence in his eyes made me smile.

I lifted my hand in a sheepish wave. “Hi.”

“Don’t just stand there. Come and eat. Get to know the others,” Rist said as he settled himself into a chair at the end of the table. When I didn’t budge, he motioned toward the young boy who’d greeted me. “Colin, this is Irina. Please introduce everyone?”

“Yes, Master Rist,” Colin said, scooting his chair back to stand. “Want some stew? It’s pretty good tonight.”

My stomach growled in reply.

“That’s Finn,” he said, pointing to the other boy who could’ve been his older brother. Both had curly brown hair and eyes so round they looked perpetually surprised.

Finn grunted through a mouthful and bobbed his chin in greeting.

Then Colin motioned to the girl, the elder among us, four or five summers beyond me. Her straight blond hair hung well past her shoulders and shimmered in the lamplight. She sat straight in her chair. “That’s Siena. She’s the senior apprentice.”

I smiled, glad to see another girl in the Master’s care.

She neither waved nor nodded. There was no warmth in her eyes or greeting on her lips. She barely acknowledged my presence.

Colin walked me to the counter, climbed a step stool, and dished some of the meaty broth into a bowl.

“Spoons are over there, cups and water at the end.” Curls cascaded as he motioned to the far end of the counter with a tilt of his head. Then he leaned toward me, still at eye level thanks to the stool, and whispered, “Don’t let Siena scare you. She is always mad.”

Despite everything, I giggled.

It only took a few days to catch onto the Medica’s steady routine, though I feared far more time would be required to understand the dynamics at play between my fellow apprentices. Colin was the easiest. Though we were of the same age, he acted with the maturity of a boy several years younger. His eyes widened each time Master Rist taught something new, and he cried so easily I wondered if he might shatter into a thousand pieces if someone nudged him a bit too hard. Despite his frailty, Colin’s easy smile was infectious, and I found myself caring for him as I might a brother.

Finn was not as transparent as Colin, though he was not very clever. A handsome lad with rich brown curls and even deeper eyes, he was nice enough and had an easy humor that made him hard to dislike. I caught myself smiling and staring each time he entered a room.

Unfortunately, Finn knew the effect his charisma and sparkling smile had on people. He strutted like a peacock, as though a subtle grin or wink might win him favors. Unfortunately, no amount of charm could make up for how he struggled to retain information.

Master Rist had none of it, demanding lengthy study sessions and additional tests to ensure important facts and formulae stuck in the boy’s head. And yet, all the memorization in the world could not overcome his lack of comprehension regarding the application of information he learned. He was a pretty flame, but his wick would never burn brightly.

I knew he would never have been accepted into the Medica without strong recommendations and even better entrance scores; still, I doubted he would rise beyond a middling physiker, if he was lucky enough to graduate his apprenticeship.

Siena was, by far, the most complex—and infuriating—girl I had ever met.

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