The Archshade

Four

I run through the alleyways of The Lower.

The palace of Sheol is an enormous place with winding hallways and hidden rooms all interconnected beneath the grand halls and vast chambers. Yet, even with all of its spaces and crevices, the palace still can't house everyone. Populated with craftsmen and laborers, a small city thrives around the base of the palace, held in by a massive stone wall guarding against invaders—or in my case, guarding against escape. The blacksmith, the seamstress, the tailor, the painter, the architect, and many others work their hands to the bone in service of the Emperor.

I pump my legs faster. My feet already know where to go. My chattel shed is across from the apothecary's shop, and late at night while trying to sleep on my straw mat, I catch the scent of herbs and smoke wafting in the air.

Time presses against me as I run. My absence has most likely been noticed by now, and the Thrall Keeper will be on a rampage trying to find me. I need to get the poison and find Baden before the palace guards drag me away to join the Arcadian caravan.

A bell rings above my head as I tumble inside the workshop. "Apothecary!" I breathlessly cry out.

He's a withered, balding man with more knowledge of plants than some say even the gods have. The Emperor insists on employing only the most skilled workers in every craft, but what the apothecary makes up for in skill, he lacks in, well... sanity.

"What? Who? Who's there? Close that door, will you?! I need darkness! The sunlight disturbs my tonics and concoctions!"

I do as the old man says then rush over to where he's hunched at a table examining a book. The table is covered in a whole manner of bottles, books, ingredients, strange inventions, and poorly labeled jars. Muttering to himself, the apothecary adjusts the bit of wire he has holding two pieces of glass over his eyes. He doesn't seem to notice me.

"Apothecary!" I plead. "I'm a thrall from the palace, and I need an extract. It's urgent!"

The old man slowly turns the page of his book. "All needs are urgent. That's why they're called 'needs.' If they weren't desperate, we'd have to call them something else. What a bother words can be."

"I was sent here by the palace nursemaid. She said—!"

"Oh! Is the Emperor's son recovering? Has his fever gone down? He has an illness deep in the bones. I've only seen the likes of it during my travels far to the east when I was a young man. Everyone I came across died from it. I told the Emperor so, but he refused to listen. I would too if I were him. Terrible thing to lose a child, but there's little I can do. The boy's death would be detrimental to the dynasty line. I recall how difficult it was for the Empress to conceive. A second child might not—"

"His fever has worsened," I interrupt, unable to bear his rambling any longer. "But that's not why I'm here."

The apothecary abruptly whirls around in his chair, looking at me for the first time. "Did anyone follow you?!"

"Uh..." I blink. "I don't think—"

The apothecary throws his hands in the air. "If we're going to be covert about this, we must go about it properly! Therefore, I must ask if you were followed. You seem like the type to be involved in suspicious plots."
He looks at me expectantly, and I blink again. Even if I did manage to understand his logic, he still wouldn't be making any sense. I furrow my brow and press my hands together, gesturing in time with the downbeat of each word as though speaking to a small child. "Please, try to understand. I need zindagi extract. Do you have any?"

"Zindagi extract? Extract of zindagi? Hmm... a poison. Yes! Good for killing, indeed, but that's usually counterproductive to my work of healing. Though, of course, it does cure all illnesses." He breaks into a cackling laugh as if he just told the funniest joke in the world. "Cures all! Ha! Death cures all! Not a remedy I'd normally suggest but still a remedy, nonetheless. Hmm... zindagi... I wonder what it tastes like. I suppose no one has stuck around long enough after drinking some to accurately describe it. Perhaps an experiment is in order. Hmm... perhaps not."