Chương 30: Books And Wages

Simon reached Dynamic Minor Success about a month after Joe joined the group. Unlike Joe, he had no reason to hide it. He returned home so pleased that Lily knew something had happened before he finished removing his boots.

"Hall tested me twice. The first sequence was apparently too fast for him to judge properly, so he made me repeat everything. Victor said I was close last week, and I told him—" Lily interrupted before Simon reached the full history.

"You passed?" Simon grinned.

"Minor Success." Mike clapped him on the shoulder. Pam looked over from the warm side of the hearth.

"Will this one make you quieter?"

"No."

"Then I'm still waiting for the useful breakthrough." Simon ignored her. Joe focused on something else. Skin Tempering theory. Once a trainee reached Minor Success in both foundations, Hall could approve access to the restricted library. Simon received permission the following day. The library occupied the rear of the squat building Joe had once believed was only equipment storage. Simon's original explanation had not been entirely wrong. Staffs, weights and other training equipment filled the front rooms.

Behind them, through an inner door Hall kept locked when access was closed, were books. Simon returned from his first two-hour session with unexpected enthusiasm for paper.

"The pages feel completely different from Sean's practice sheets. Thicker. Smoother too. Some of the covers are treated hide, and there are maps with actual roads and rivers drawn on them instead of Hall making lines in the dirt." Joe looked up immediately.

"What maps?"

"Blackwood. Roads around it. Some larger ones too."

"How far?" Simon paused.

"I don't know."

"You looked at them."

"I was there for Skin Tempering." Joe stared. His indirect access to the Hall's maps had somehow been entrusted to the person least interested in maps. Simon continued.

"There are adventure accounts too. Histories. Some herb books. Anatomy. Muscle Tempering books, although Hall told us not to read those yet." Joe felt an unreasonable amount of envy toward his brother.

"Who's in charge of the library?"

"An old man."

"Name?" Simon shrugged.

"He told me not to bend the pages."

"That isn't his name."

"He has white eyebrows." Joe gave up. According to Simon, the librarian spent most of his time at a desk near the inner shelves. He cared that students stayed quiet, handled the books properly and returned everything to the correct place. Hall controlled who could enter and what sections they were permitted to use. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Nothing left the building. That restriction hurt most.

If Simon could have brought home a map, Joe would probably have learned more from ten minutes of studying it than Simon remembered after staring at one between Skin Tempering chapters. For now, Joe concentrated on the knowledge Simon needed.

"Read all the Skin Tempering material before rushing." Simon frowned.

"I wasn't going to rush."

"You once threw a fishing net harder because you thought force would make it spread wider."

"That was completely different."

"Was it?"

"Yes." Joe allowed the silence to continue. Simon sighed.

"The basic method isn't that difficult."

"Then understanding the other books should be easy." That made him pause. Joe continued more seriously.

"If you misunderstand something and you're lucky, you waste blood energy. If you're unlucky, you're deliberately putting blood energy into your own tissues using a method you learned incorrectly. A few more days reading is cheap." Simon had trained long enough to recognize the difference between caution and cowardice.

"Fine. I'll read all three properly." Joe nodded.

"Good." What he did not say was that he wanted Simon to understand the method thoroughly for his own future as well. Alex had already removed one uncertainty before leaving Green Hollow. During one of their conversations about Hall's restrictions, Alex had explained that the inheritance contract did not decide which contracted student was ready to learn which technique. The contract cared about the inheritance leaving the people bound to it. Hall cared about training order. Those were different things.

If Simon eventually explained Skin Tempering to Joe, the mark would not punish him merely because Joe had not publicly reached Dynamic Minor Success. Hall certainly might. That was the actual obstacle. Joe still had no reason to involve Simon yet. His brother had only just gained access to the theory himself. He could wait until Simon actually knew what he was talking about. Merek recognized Joe's progress in a more ordinary way. Money.

By then Joe had spent roughly a year and eight months working in the medicine shop. The building had become almost as familiar as home or the Talent Hall. Joe knew which floorboard creaked near the corridor to Merek's private room, where afternoon sunlight entered through the southern shutters, and how the smell changed from the dry front shop to the warmer rooms behind the counter. He could perform most routine processing efficiently. That did not make him equal to the older apprentices.

They possessed years of cases Joe had never seen and practical experience that could not be manufactured by repeatedly cutting roots correctly. But for ordinary preparation work, Joe had become undeniably useful. One afternoon Merek inspected a batch he had prepared, then placed a bronzelet on the worktable. Joe looked at it.

"What's that?" Merek stared at him.

"If you don't recognize money, I've badly overestimated you."

"I know what it is."

"Then take it." Joe picked it up. Merek returned to examining the herbs.

"One bronzelet a week. You do enough useful work now that making you do it for nothing is becoming embarrassing." That was probably the closest thing to a promotion Merek would ever announce. Joe carried the first coin home. Mike turned it over between his fingers before returning it.

"Merek's paying you now?"

"One bronzelet each week." Lily looked pleased.

"Keep it." Joe glanced toward her.

"You don't need it for the house?"

"If this household becomes poor enough that I need to take one bronzelet from you, you'll know." Simon had become interested.

"Merek pays that every week?" Lily recognized the direction of his thoughts instantly.

"No." Simon looked offended.

"I haven't said anything."

"You were going to."

"I could work there after training."

"No. You're entering Skin Tempering. You need the time to train and recover." Mike agreed.

"If you progress far enough for guard work later, one bronzelet won't look impressive. Don't split yourself now." Simon looked toward Joe as though hoping for support. Joe shrugged. They were right. Medicine fit Joe's plans. For Simon it would mostly consume time needed elsewhere. Several weeks later, Joe asked Merek for something potentially more valuable than his wage. Processing scraps. The tray contained root ends, damaged leaves, outer slices and pieces too inconsistent to use in medicine sold to customers.

Merek was preparing to throw them away.

"Can I take some?"

"No." Joe looked at him.

"You're discarding them."

"Yes."

"Then why not?"

"Because you'll mix rubbish together, discover it makes rubbish and then bother me with questions." Joe glanced toward the tray.

"I want to experiment with some of the harmless pieces. Maybe try them in food and see whether any useful properties remain." That was true. It simply was not the entire truth. Merek narrowed his eyes.

"Those are waste because their strength isn't reliable. You will not make proper medicine from them."

"I know."

"You'll waste your time."

"Probably."

"And you still want them."

"Yes." Merek stared at him for a while before sighing.

"Only what I approve. Nothing toxic. Nothing spoiled. Nothing you give another person without telling me first." Joe agreed immediately. The healer waved him away. Joe carried the first bundle home. His real purpose was experimentation. The common healing preparation Merek sold for physical strain was also the recipe Joe understood best. Repeated exposure had given him probable ingredients, processing stages and several rough relationships between them. Not the complete recipe. Enough to start testing.

Waste materials let him experiment cheaply and quietly. Repeatedly buying the same herbs would attract Merek's attention. Buying medicine from Hall would be expensive and create questions of its own if Joe suddenly began spending heavily despite showing only ordinary talented progress. Scraps attracted almost no attention. The nourishing recipes remained much farther away. Joe lacked several important pieces. He would reach them later. For now, the stubborn Medicine — Lv. 2 98/100 remained in the back of his mind.

He suspected cutting another thousand roots would not be what moved it.