Chapter 162: Lillian I
The cat was dead.
Lillian crouched, careful to keep her skirts clear of the gutter as she placed the sleeve of milk aside and leaned down to get a better look. A slow sadness washed over her as she removed a canvas glove and pressed her fingers to the creatures neck, finding nothing but damp cold.
Damn this cold. Lillian dropped her hand, careful to keep it away from her clothes and glove.
If it was sick, she could have cured it. She had an entire stock at her fingertips at the apothecary. While many didnt work on animals, a few did.
But it was too late.
Her father told her, once, that death was the ultimate malady. One that would take all of them in the end. And as much as she disliked dwelling on such morbid notions, it was hard not to on days like today.
Shed tried her best to keep it alive, but she knew when she found it curled up next to the fire pit that its chances were low. Practically non-existent. A lame rear leg severely hampered its mobility and prospects of finding a shielded and elevated place to sleep as many strays in the city did. Safe from guards and other animals shielded from the frigid wind.
Guntherher fatherhad forbidden her from bringing it inside.
Cats are filthy, sweetheart. They aint like the dogs. Dogs are different. With dogs, you give em a place to sleep, food, they stay put. Cats though. Soons you open a door for longer than a second, theyre gone. Theres no takin the city out of em. Eventually shell come back, carrying gods know what, and shell want in. Then do it all over again the next day. Cant rightly run an apothecary with disease vectors runnin around, can we?
He might have softened if she begged. Wore him down. Shed done it before. The runt- hunting hounds that graciously warmed her feet at night were permanent tenants in the apothecary thanks to putting her foot down.
But that was years ago, before her official apprenticeship. Before she understood how quickly and brutally sickness could tear through a community, and how the sickmany of whom were likely to visit an apothecarywere far more susceptible to catching other illnesses when their natural defenses were compromised.
So in the end, Lillian made the call. She built the cat a nest off to the side of the apothecary, protected and insulated it from the wind with wooden scraps, gave it water laced with supplements to fortify its strength, fed it with whatever was left on her plate after meals, and prayed for Elphions mercy in the hazy twilight between wake and sleep.
From that first night weeks ago shed told herself that she was making the correct decision. The responsible, adult decision.
She was decidedly less confident now.
Mew.
Lillian blinked, staring at the cat. The outline of snow surrounding it was undisturbed. It hadnt moved. Had she imagined
Mew. More insistent this time. Muffled. As if, it instead of coming from the creatures mouth, it was coming from beneath the animal. Acting quickly, Lillian reached beneath the cats spine and shifted it up and to the side. Something sharp caught her palm, and she yanked her hand free.
A single bead of blood welled from a cut so small it was almost invisible. She stared at it, then down.
Two kittenstheir eyes blue in infancy, mewled miserably at their uncovered state. They were hours old and could barely stand, every attempt to do so an abject failure. One light gray with dark patches, one dark with white feet. From a look, she knew it was the dark one that had scored her, its mouth taut and wide, displaying pink gums that had yet to develop teeth.
Arent you a feisty one? She poked at it. The dark kitten swatted at her finger and tumbled over. Lillian couldnt help but smile.
Shed failed their mother. But as Gunther frequently said, being an apothecary wasnt about dwelling on past failures. It was about doing what you can, when you can.
***
Cant do it. Old man Rin stared at the basket on the counter. Shed placed it there to draw his eye, but as soon as the two kittens were inside, swaddled in blankets, theyd fallen asleep. Shed been hoping to ply him in trade.
After that, she awkwardly drew a small deck of repurposed playing cards and tested his acuity. It wasnt the quickest shed seen, but he didnt get any wrong. And he was older, bordering on forty. As the saying went, Topside aged a person. Forty in Topside might as well have been eighty anywhere else.
Then, with no small anxiety, pushing the rag against her mouth and nose so hard it almost hurt, she asked him to open his mouth. It always started in the throat. She needed to see his tonsils. This was the best way to make a ruling and unfortunately, the most dangerous part. If it was advanced, his throat coated in gray, a thousand rags filtering the surrounding air wouldnt make a single lick of difference.
She pressed his tongue down with an iron spatula, and squinted.
Nothing but pink and red.
Lillian smiled, withdrawing the implement and stepping down from the stool. Theres some mucus and irritation. Otherwise, youre all clear. Probably just a cold.
Rin breathed a sigh of relief, his body seeming to deflate as he shed tension and anxiety that must have houndedplagued him for quite some time. Thanks, lass.
Of course.
They emerged from the storeroom and Rin glanced towards the line of ovens, each tended by a bakers assistant. Big order from the cCastle for a banquet tonight. Wasnt sure what Id do if it compromised the goods.
Lillian cocked her head. She hadnt heard about that, but she didnt exactly have her ear to the ground. What are they celebrating?
Rin snorted. Always somethin. Give a noble an excuse to drink and hell drink. Might be the only thing we got in common.
I see.
She didnt. Not really. There was some truth tohe Rins words, but if the banquet was big enough that the bakeries in larger districts were so overloaded with orders that they were shopping around Ttopside, it meant there was a massive turnout. And hopefully, plenty of nobles searching for something to soothe their hangovers.
They returned to the front of the store. Old Man Rin paused at the basket, lifting the blanket and revealing a stirring kitten, placing it down again. Then he retrieved a fresh loaf of bread from beneath the counter and handed it to her. Instead of a gift, it felt like an expression of regret.
Much as I appreciate you and yours, doing what you do. Im sorry. I cant help you,. hHe said with an air of finality.
Lillian chewed her lip. There was one last thing she could try. What you said, about not being able to afford the alchemists potions. What if you didnt have to?
Not sure what youre getting at, Rin said.
The spike of anxiety from earlier returned, for an entirely different reason.
Im working on something,. Lillian began. One of Gunthers old projects. He dropped it a long time ago, but there have been advancements since, and going through his notes, I think it has promise. Could make the plague a thing of the past. If you caught it, you wouldnt need gold slivers no one has for expensive potions no one can afford. Just a daily regimen of medicine. Affordable medicine.
For how long?
Two weeks at most. Probably only ten days, but two weeks to be certain.
You looking for an investment?
Lillian pushed the basket forward. That, and someone to take these little ones off my hands. They wont be this small for long. Its easy to care for them. With careful instruction, even a child could do it she emphasized that point, hoping Rin would seize on the fact that he could pass off the kittens to his children, the actual fostering requiring little effort on his part. and as much as Id like to, much of the work I need to accomplish in the coming days is time- sensitive.
I wont lie. It would be nice to give the rats a run for their money for a change and to finally rest easy about that gods- damned blight. Rin drummed his fingers on the counter. Im listenin.