Bibliophile Princess, page 10
“Oh,” Lady Gene gasped.
Not a moment later, a subdued knock came at the door. Lady Gene immediately scurried over to the entrance. She paused to look over her shoulder, her expression relaxed as she said, “It’s all right.” Her hand turned the knob before any of us could stop her.
Prince Irvin took a step forward, his tone breezy as he blurted, “So it was you, huh?”
The rest of us blinked in surprise at who we saw on the other side of the door; it was the guide the innkeeper had introduced us to before, who had shown us the way to Dr. Hester’s residence—a taciturn man who appeared to be in his midforties. He and Lady Gene were well acquainted and, since they were both so reticent, they seemed to recognize each other by their presence alone.
As the rest of us breathed a collective sigh of relief, the man handed Lady Gene a set of medicinal herbs. Where he’d gotten them was anyone’s guess.
Lady Gene wasted no time enlisting him for further help with ingredients. “I want Milulu Clams,” she said. The rest of us felt a little uneasy as she gave him an overview of the situation and then a list of additional herbs she required, but despite our misgivings, the man gave a curt nod and immediately left.
Before I knew what I was doing, I blurted after him, “Please wait.”
Driven on impulse, I hurried over to the man, pulled the warm blanket from my shoulders, and held it out toward him. The room we were in was fairly small, so even without a fire to provide warmth during the night, the body heat of all of us crammed inside kept the temperature bearable. The same could not be said for this man, however, who had only just come in from outside. On my approach, I caught the scent of snow and felt the outside chill that still lingered on him.
“Why not get some rest tonight?” I suggested.
The man’s face remained unreadable, but his lips twitched into an almost imperceptible smile. “I’ll bring you the ingredients you need. Please be sure to rest so you’ll be ready when I return.”
I gawked at him, not expecting that he would deflect my words right back at me.
Lady Gene dug through her clothes and produced a small bundle that she then held out to him. The scene was all too familiar to me, causing my heart to ache. The man, who was at least three times older than Lady Gene, said nothing even as the edges of his mouth went taut. He was frowning.
“Oh, c’mon,” Lady Gene grumbled at him. “You sure do hate the type of thermal medicine we use ’round these parts, but you’d better take this with you. Don’t need you turning into an ice statue while you’re out there. I wouldn’t sleep well if that happened.”
I think his life, and in turn survival, is more pressing than whether or not he turns into an ice statue, I thought to myself.
Our former guide expelled an exaggerated sigh. He took the bundle she offered and silently tipped his head in gratitude. Then he turned and stepped back into the darkened corridor.
“Um,” I called after him again, still not entirely comfortable with him setting out into the cold at this time of night.
His eyes darted toward me, and he paused long enough to say, “I will be back tomorrow. Please rest until then. You are the key to resolving this entire situation, Bibliophile Princess.”
I sucked in a breath. His response was like the prick of a needle, jolting me to my senses. This man knew me, not as Elianna, the crown prince’s bride-to-be, but likely from my younger days, when I would hole up in our regional library—the days when my only title was bibliophile.
“You’re...” I started to say, but before I could finish, the man in the heavy woolen overcoat hurried down the hallway. Before he disappeared completely, Lady Gene bid him to stay safe, and so he went, carrying the young herbalist’s hopes with him.
Any further discussion that night would have gotten us nowhere, so we decided to call it and get some rest. Having already hashed out all sorts of ideas as to what trial cures we might concoct, both Lady Gene and myself were incredibly anxious to get to work. I heeded their advice, though my mind was still abuzz with excitement about our progress.
We all agreed it would be best to sleep in one place together, so we gathered in Dr. Hester’s room. Lady Gene and I shared a bed, while Mabel created a cloth pallet nearby for herself. Prince Irvin, Rei, and Lord Alan took turns keeping watch outside the door for the rest of the night.
Frankly, I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to sleep with how my mind was running, but contrary to expectations, my physical exhaustion outweighed my elation, and not long after my head hit the pillow, I fell fast asleep.
The following morning, under Captain Gene’s orders, we began a second reformation of the inn. The innkeeper was understandably flabbergasted, mumbling, “But why...?” Although I did feel sorry for the poor man, we hadn’t a moment to spare.
Although the Azul Region neighbored Ralshen, and the highway between them was well maintained to keep up with the frequent foot traffic back and forth, Corba Village was nestled in the mountains. Our former guide who’d left to fulfill Lady Gene’s request wouldn’t return with the Milulu Clams until tomorrow or the day after, no matter how much he rushed. That would be too late to begin compounding our trial cures. This was the first time Lady Gene would ever be working with the Milulu Clam, after all, and she needed time to assess them. Those clams could turn out to be our trump card—the key ingredient we needed to develop a cure.
Lady Gene wanted to analyze all of the clam’s properties, from quality to possible variations and effectiveness. Only then could she truly begin putting a sample together for us to test. It was only natural she would exercise such caution; people’s lives were hanging in the balance. Alas, we hadn’t much time, and if that wasn’t bad enough, we lacked the necessary space, tools, and personnel to create different mixtures for testing.
We negotiated with the innkeeper and managed to secure a place and personnel at least, at which point Lady Gene declared, “What we require right now is time.”
“What?” I gasped, blinking at her.
Contrary to disbelief, Lady Gene’s eyes were filled with determination. “I want more personnel and space to work in, of course, but the biggest question of all is how much of this we can mass-produce. I want to make two types of medicine.”
Lady Gene’s words were as resolute as the expression on her face. Fires of ambition raged in her eyes, indicating that perhaps she hadn’t slept a wink, instead ironing out her plans until the early morning hours. Even the innkeeper was taken aback despite how long he’d been acquainted with her. I could only guess this was the first time he’d ever seen her act so intimidating.
I, on the other hand, sucked in a breath as I mulled over her what she’d said. When obtaining an ingredient and working with it for the first time, one typically checked its composition and tested its efficacy first. Lady Gene’s plans had already shot right past that step; she was moving straight to using the clams to concoct a cure. More astounding still was that she wanted to make two types. Lady Gene had already determined what ingredients she was going to use, so instead of using extra time testing, she wanted to rush to the next step.
“What can I do to help?” I asked.
My question launched us into a discussion in which we settled on a plan. For the moment, I needed to secure additional manpower and all the ingredients necessary to produce a cure.
It was at this point that we carefully divulged the details of the situation to the innkeeper, and from then on, the dining hall became our work area. All guests were then prohibited from entering the room, and everything in it was removed. We used alcohol as a disinfectant to scrub the entire place from top to bottom, leaving not a nook or cranny—or even the ceiling, for that matter—untouched.
Then, while we were waiting, we split up and contacted other nearby chefs to enlist their aid, requisitioning whatever cooking utensils they could provide. We weren’t yet at the point where we needed specialized tools to boil down herbs, so cooking equipment would serve just fine as a substitute. We boiled all the utensils repeatedly until Lady Gene deemed them sufficiently disinfected.
It was as the early winter sun was setting that an express courier arrived with a package. A smaller letter attached to it read:
To Lady Gene,
Here are the ingredients you requested for use in concocting a cure. I have included a number of other herbs as well.
“This can’t possibly be from...” Prince Irvin gasped in disbelief. He’d been tasked with guard duty from noon until evening. Though his shock mirrored my own—how could our former guide possibly deliver the reagents this fast?—Lady Gene didn’t even blink twice. Instead, she immediately launched into handing out orders as if she’d expected this to happen.
“We will immediately begin formulating a cure for the Ashen Nightmare. From this moment on, no one is allowed to enter this inn unless they are under my supervision or have my express permission!”
With all the fuss about deep cleaning the dining hall and its vicinity from top to bottom, the inn had drawn the attention of the rest of the town this morning. In spite of her young age, Lady Gene wielded an air of intense authority, overpowering all of the townspeople in her quest to prepare. One person, however, had some slight qualms about the outcome of this situation...
“I-I’m supposed to be the proprietor... All I ever wanted was a stable, quality inn by the roadside to service the miners coming through—just a normal, quaint establishment... That’s all I ever wanted...”
It was startling to see the tragic mess to which the owner had been reduced. It was said a man’s home was his castle, and for the innkeeper, who’d dedicated his life to this place, seeing it transform before his eyes without any opportunity to protest left him dejected. We pulled him aside to discuss his grievances and the impact this was having on his business and promised to compensate him.
That brings us back to the present.
Prince Irvin’s exhaustion was understandable in light of the long hours he’d been pulling. He forsook manners as he yawned loudly behind the cloth he kept pressed over his face. “We made a smart move,” he mumbled. “Announcing in front of the townspeople that Gene’s gonna be making a cure for the Ashen Nightmare here, I mean. The group that’s out for your life is going to be hesitant to attack now.”
True, I thought.
Due to the inn’s reformations this morning and Lady Gene’s declaration to the townspeople, we had drawn substantial attention to ourselves. The dining hall was no longer being used for its original purpose now that we had transformed it into a workshop. Personnel and supplies would be coming in and out of the inn doors all hours of the day—and night, for that matter. A number of curious onlookers had been trying to peek inside too. Even if anyone did manage to sneak into our midst and make an attempt on my life—the same way Jean had when he’d burned down Dr. Hester’s house—someone would spot them in the act.
The Ashen Nightmare was a fearsome plague, one that everyone abhorred. Launching an attack on someone involved with making a cure, no matter the justification, would be tantamount to a historical crime of epic proportions in the eyes of the populace.
I could feel everyone’s attention on Lady Gene and me; Prince Irvin, Rei, Lord Alan, and even Mabel were following us with their eyes. While I was glad for their expectations, they also served as a weight, anchoring me down. To reach the next step of this process, we had to make our move, but we had no way of searching for clues as to how to do that. So what were we supposed to do?
“Sample three! We’re grinding the shells down differently. You’re not sawing meat off a bone, so keep that in mind. And you’d better not be half-hearted about it either. You gotta really bring out the flavor of the ingredient you’re working with. The smoothness and texture change depending on how you grind down the shell.”
The way Lady Gene barked out detailed instructions might make one think she was either the Goddess of Milulu Clams or a renowned chef. She was pouring her heart and soul into making this medicine, so I had to somehow get word out to the rest of the world as to its effectiveness. An impromptu announcement with no forethought wouldn’t do the trick. No, we needed something else...
I continued contemplating the matter as I set to work on the next sample. In the meantime, the winter sun continued to sink below the horizon, but the tense atmosphere in the room didn’t lift even as darkness set in. It continued until midnight the following day. One by one, our comrades fell. Lady Gene’s draconian supervision could only be likened to what one might expect from the keeper of the underworld. By the end, only two survivors remained: two pots and a light source.
Just as Lady Gene had declared, she had two final concoctions simmering.
Considering how the room was littered with limp bodies passed out from exhaustion, it certainly did look like the underworld here. The untrained eye could be forgiven for mistaking us all for corpses. In fact, if someone completely ignorant of the situation were to stumble in here now, it would be little wonder if they suspected us of vile sorcery—of trying to summon a demon king from the depths of the netherworld.
“Is it over...?” Prince Irvin asked, looking like death warmed over.
Equally exhausted and grumbling like a petulant child, Lord Alan shot back, “It sure better be. If it’s not, I’m going to kick the bucket. I mean it. I’m spent.”
“If it isn’t, I suppose that means we will be starting over from square one, eh?” Rei added. “He he. So this ordeal may turn out to be more grueling than even the evil sorceress’s training was. Very well. I’ll happily take on the challenge.” In the process of all this, Rei seemed to have awakened to a strange predilection.
Perhaps it was due to the harsh shadows the light in the room cast on their faces, or perhaps it was because the exhaustion had left them all with dark circles beneath their eyes, but my companions looked most suspicious indeed. I could well imagine it wasn’t only the boys; Mabel, Lady Gene, the innkeeper, and myself probably looked equally as ghastly. My head spun from lack of sleep and exhaustion. It was likely everyone else was experiencing the same.
No matter how exhausted we all were, our attention remained on the only woman still standing. Our commanding officer, Captain Gene, would be the one to make the final call on whether we’d succeeded.
“There was a lot more trial and error than I’d anticipated,” Lady Gene muttered to herself. Traces of fatigue lined her face, yes, but more pronounced was her excitement. The words she spoke next were the greatest reward we could hope for after all of our hard work and painstaking effort. Her voice was full of energy, confidence, and strength. “It came out the way I envisioned. As I am now, I can make nothing greater to top this. This is our first big step in creating a cure for the Ashen Nightmare.”
A cheer rang out. Exhaustion wasn’t all that filled us now; we felt a deep sense of accomplishment, as well as relief and hope. A deathly plague without a cure had begun terrifying our country once again, but now, we had a ray of light we might offer to the victims teetering on the brink of death and their families.
“What do you mean by ‘first step’?” Rei asked, wanting clarification.
Before Lady Gene could provide it, a brave voice cut in, “All right! We need to get this to the people at the foot of Mt. Urma as quickly as possible.”
It was the innkeeper who made this declaration—the man who, throughout this entire process, had maintained an unbelievable level of energy as he roused those of us who dared fall asleep, even if it was in the middle of the night. This little waypoint town where he had his establishment was only in business courtesy of the local mines. He was well acquainted with the townspeople in the area too, so the uprising wasn’t inconsequential to him. It was no wonder he was worried for the people there and what they were going through.
The bigger motivation, I suspected, was that aside from being good natured to begin with, he probably wanted to contribute to the cause in his own way. He’d likely never forgotten the child he’d lost to the Ashen Nightmare and didn’t want anyone else to go through that if he could help it. It was true that he had been reluctant to indulge our requests in the beginning, but he’d ultimately acquiesced and cooperated. This too I thought was motivated by his drive to contribute.
Despite his eagerness to see the medicine delivered, our commanding officer, Captain Gene, put a stop to it.
“Hold on,” she said. “Don’t put the cart ahead of the horse. I’ve got no intention of sending this medicine to the village at the foot of Mt. Urma just yet.”
“What?” gasped the proprietor in disbelief. The expression on his face suddenly shifted. As far as he was concerned, Lady Gene’s words contradicted our entire purpose for doing this. “Why?!”
Lady Gene shook her head and assuaged his fears by reminding him, “I said not yet.”
While he and the others in the room struggled to fathom the reasoning for this decision, I nodded in agreement.
“We have made a request of the locals,” I clarified. “We explained everything to the family members of the infected and have received their agreement to test the medicine here first.”
“What?!” The innkeeper gaped at me.
I explained to him that, actually, several of the residents living in town had consulted Mabel in secret; men had even sent their wives to contact her. At first, they wanted to know how to prevent the Ashen Nightmare and any other relevant information, but soon, Mabel noticed the women acting suspiciously. Their complexions were unusually pale, and they seemed to be hiding something. Their desperation as they petitioned her for aid also indicated to Mabel that perhaps...
“You’re saying there are people infected with the Ashen Nightmare here in this town? And these women were hiding them...?”
It hadn’t been altogether surprising to me; I had suspected this might happen. Even though the government had issued an official proclamation in an attempt to get the prescription—or rather recipe—for the medicine that suppresses the disease’s symptoms out to the public, Lady Gene had clearly never seen it before we handed it to her directly. It stood to reason that other people wouldn’t know of its existence either, in which case, wouldn’t they resort to hiding their loved ones from the rest of the town?
