Page 110 of Grave Situation

“Medicinal herbs and healing tinctures,” he continues, and my train of thought screeches to a halt.

“There’s a healer at the Sanctuary?” It’s not uncommon for priests to knowsomethingabout medicines. After all, there are more priests than healers in the world, and when the goal is to keep people alive, knowledge is shared freely. The Academy of Healers has a program that allows priests to visit for a unit of study on basic medicines and their uses, free of charge, all room and board covered. The only thing they ask in return is that any priest with an interest in learning about medicines come to the academy for training, rather than receiving secondhand instruction from someone who may not fully understand the finer nuances of body chemistry and biology.

“No,” Arimen replies uncertainly. “The class is taught by one of the senior priests.”

“Forgive me,” Jaimin interrupts, pulling his gray up on Arimen’s other side. His voice is as gentle as ever, but I know him well enough to hear the steely undertone. He’s not happy. “I’ve been eavesdropping, which is a terrible failing of mine, but I’m not certain I heard that clearly. Did you say a priest is teaching classes in medicines?”

Arimen nods. “Yes. It’s very interesting. I didn’t know that grinhelt leaves could be used to ease fevers and speed the healing of minor cuts.”

“Hmm,” Jaimin says. “They can indeed. What else were you taught about grinhelt leaves?”

Screwing up his face as though trying to remember, the boy says, “Well, for the most effectiveness, you need to harvest them after rain—when they’re still damp but not wet. But if you can only get dry ones, they’ll still work. You need to steep one leaf per hundred pounds of the patient’s body weight. And the tea must never be drunk chilled, or the body will flush it before it can take effect. Room temperature is best.” He smiles proudly.

“Yes, that’s excellent.” Jaimin returns his smile. “Anything else?”

Arimen’s confidence falters. “I-I don’t think so?”

“Well, it’s good for you to have this understanding of herbal medicines,” Jaimin tells him. “We can keep up your studies while we’re traveling. For instance, something very important to know about grinhelt leaves is that they should never be administered to anyone who weighs less than one hundred pounds.”

“Oh.” Arimen blinks a few times. “What about children, then?”

“Nevergive them to children. Even when the leaves were broken into smaller portions, more or less proportionate to body weight, the result in any person who weighs less than a hundred pounds is death.”

Whoa. I didn’t know that.

“An expert in medicines, are you?”

I ignore Leicht’s snide comment—it’s not rude of me, since he’s the eavesdropper—and watch as Arimen’s face goes ashen.

“Wh-Wh-What?Death?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Jaimin’s tone stays calm and factual, but I can tell he’s angry. If he were closer, I’d pat his arm. “A great deal of research has been devoted to why, but the best anyone can determine is that the properties of the leaf that work so well to speed the healing of minor cuts are activated and multiplied when the leaf is broken. So half a leaf, which we mightconsider appropriate for a child weighing fifty pounds, actually causes an overdose. The same thing happens when the tea is more than an hour old—it becomes more potent over time.”

“The priest never said any of this,” Arimen gasps. “Someone needs to warn them!”

Jaimin glances over the boy’s head at me, and I nod. “Talon will ask his master to pass the message along. We’ll ensure that no harm is done. Tell me, how many classes have already graduated from the Sanctuary and joined the wider priesthood?”

“Only two. The program is still new.” Arimen’s eyes are wide, and he seems to be processing something he finds troubling. “Are… Is…” He lapses into silence, and I leave him be for the moment as our horses trudge through the endless damn rain. Try as I might, I can’t see what he sees in this weather—to me, it’s just wet and gloomy. Especially wet. My cloak is supposed to be waterproof, but somehow I’m feeling unmistakably damp underneath it, and I don’t even have the luxury of a hot bath to look forward to tonight. No inn, no village… if we’re lucky, there’ll be a barn. It’ll stink like old animal shit, but even if the roof leaks, it’ll be better than a godsdamned tent I’ll need to set up myself.

“You’re such a whiny human.”

“I hate you.”

“Mage Silverbright?”

“Talon,” I remind him. I may not want to be his friend, but not even I can insist he be formal with me when the others aren’t.

“May I see the stone, please?”

Taken aback, I stare at him. “Sorry?”

His cheeks flush pink and he avoids my gaze. “May I see the stone?”

Jaimin and I exchange a bewildered glance, and I mentally prod the stone. What does it want me to do?

“It’s just… looking at it makes my mind so much clearer,” he continues earnestly, just as the stone reassures me.

“Give me a moment.” I switch the reins to one hand, praying Sweetie doesn’t choose this time to assert her dominance over me, and reach under my cloak. It’s not easy, with my waterlogged leather gloves on—not to mention unpleasant—but I get a hand into my coat and shirt and manage to open the pouch.

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