Dr. Matthias Corvus's Arc

Chapter 3 of 8

Silas set the second body's report aside and tapped his cane once on the floor. "The third one's still in the Council hall. Guarded. If we wait, the embalmers reach him first. A man with a preparer's kit was seen there an hour ago." Matthias stood at the workbench. The nineteen-year-old was covered again. His own hands still smelled of the vinegar wash. "We can't cut him where he lies. Not with guards at the door." "No. We bring him here." Silas turned his masked face toward the front room. "I've paid for that before. The Asterwing works fast. But someone has to keep the body honest between the hall and this table. Oils, powders, anything on the skin will muddy what I smell. That's you." "Me." "You have hands and eyes. I need both. Wrap him in clean linen only. No perfumes. No lye. If a servant tries to wash him, stop them." Matthias thought of the merchant lord already ruined by oils. He thought of Silas's bargain, and the cure waiting behind it. "How long do I have?" "Until the preparer finishes his tea. Go now." Matthias went. He waited in an alley across from the Council hall until a cart rattled up to the side door. Two figures in dark coats stepped down. He did not ask their names. He gave the word Silas had given him and followed them in past a guard who looked the other way for coin. The body lay on a slab in a cold room. A bowl of oil sat beside it, uncapped. The preparer's kit rested on a stool. The man himself was not in the room. Matthias moved the bowl aside without spilling it. He pulled the linen from the kit, checked it for scent, and wrapped the corpse himself. The dark coats lifted the body between them. Matthias carried the feet. They were three streets from the shop when a bell began to ring behind them. Not a plague bell. A summoning bell. Someone had found the empty slab. Back in the shop, they laid the body on the padded treatment table. Silas was already washing his hands at the basin. He took up a bundle of green stems from the shelf and crushed a leaf under the beak of his mask. Mint. Rosemary. Thyme. He passed the bruised herbs slowly over the corpse's mouth, then the belly. He stopped at the belly. Breathed again. "Bitter almond. Under the herbs. Cyanide, same as the first." He straightened. "Three of three. It isn't plague killing them. It's one hand." Matthias set down the linen. Outside, the bell was still ringing. Somewhere in the town, guards were being counted and sent. The body was here. The proof was here. And now the Council knew a plague doctor had taken it.