Chains of Silver (Alchemy Empire Book 1)

Chapter 22

Dietrich followed the assistant down the hall to a small room across from the servant staircase. The assistant pointed to a dark leather exam table covered with a white sheet, and Dietrich set me down gently on it. 

The assistant pulled a device on caster wheels over to the table and pushed a button on the knobby control panel. With a belch of steam and a whir of gears, the machine came to life. Slender brass and steel arms unbent like a tangle of spider legs. 

“Isn’t that one of those Heal On Demand machines?” Dietrich asked. The machines had become popular the last five years as a way to supplement the limited supply of healers. 

The assistant’s mouth tightened sourly. “It’s a Transamplexus Autocuration Rehabilitator, yes.” She said it in the same way I often corrected Thea for calling the transceivers “yapper tappers.” 

Warm kinship welled in me. Anyone who valued the importance of using correct words for technology was all right in my book, even if she did look as if she had lemon juice for blood.

She inserted my injured leg into a set of leather straps far more gently than I’d expected of her. 

“Pay attention,” she told Dietrich, “the TAR converts any kind of magic into healing magic and then calibrates its energy to fit whatever injuries it is presented with. You’ll have to run it because Mistress Davies needs my assistance.”

While she spoke, she turned dials and more knobs on the machine until its arms perched on my leg like a giant insect sunning itself. 

“You put your hand on the energy intake panel here and press the start button. The machine will transfuse your magic, and when this light flashes—” She pointed to an amber-tinted bulb. “—you should be able to slide off her boot because the swelling will have gone down. You’ll need to clean the whole leg with this solution.” She thunked a glass bottle off a shelf and onto a countertop and set some clean cloths beside it. “Once you’re done, then press this green button and the TAR will resume its cycle. You should put the leg back in the harness, but you won’t need to reposition the sensors—they’ll return to this position on their own. If you mess it up, you’ll have to send for me—I’ll be with Mistress Davies and the young woman.”

Dietrich nodded at her, looking very studious. “One question.”

“Yes?”

“I faint at the sight of blood.” His voice was solemn but his eyes glimmered.

She glowered at him. “That wasn’t a question.” She turned to me. “There’s a special button on the back of the control panel. You press it, and it gets rid of smart asses.” She gave him one more baleful glare and then hurried from the room.

I grinned at Dietrich. “Shame on you.”

“Had to lighten the mood somehow.” He eyed the machine. “You ready?”

“Please.”

He started the device and placed his hand on the smooth brass slab framed with carved alchemy symbols. The machine glugged like a great beast taking a long drink. Dietrich winced.

“Does it hurt?” I asked him.

“Not exactly. But I can feel it taking my magic—and it’s not an entirely pleasant sensation.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not the one with a chewed up leg, and I’m not lying half-dead on a healer’s table. I have no cause to complain.”

“You’re very matter-of-fact about all this.”

He shrugged. “Not really. But I have to keep it together—we both do. And if that means making light of it, then that’s what I have to do.”