He cleared his throat and turned his head in embarrassment. “I don’t know about that. I’ve always been stronger than most, that’s all.”
“So, neither of us will get sick...”
“I won’t,” he said, and he sounded perfectly convinced. “If you say you won’t...”
“I won’t, it’s impossible.”
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and reached for his outer clothes. “Then let’s save these people.”
They spent the day in the sacristy, working on the lattices. Willa found them the tools that they asked for: kitchen shears, a razor blade from a shaving kit, safety pins and needles, a thimble, a whetstone, a tin of wax-resin, and plenty of clean linen and thread. The tools weren’t adequate, and far from what Seraphina was used to working with, but she and Rune had to make do. This made their work tedious and frustrating. It took Seraphina twice the time it would’ve taken her if she’d had the right tools in the right sizes to cut the cracked bone shards and file them to perfection, like Rune instructed. They didn’t talk much, both focused on their delicate work, only exchanging questions and instructions.
It reminded Seraphina of how she’d worked like this with Matteo. At first, they hadn’t shared the same worktable, and she did her part alone, prepared the bone shards for the master weaver according to his drawings, and left them in compartmentalized boxes for him to use when he came into the workshop. As they got to know each other and developed an attachment, they noticed they started coming into the workshop at the same time, as if by accident, and after a few weeks, it made sense to work closely together and share the same table, as the proximity allowed them to exchange ideas and be more efficient.
She was doing that with Rune now, and she loved it, but also felt guilty about it. It was another thing that had been only hers and Matteo’s, like their game of spotting lattices in Ingolstadt, and the short time they’d spent at the Black Eagle. Seraphina knew it was all in her head, and Rune had nothing to do withit, and she also knew that it wasn’t technically wrong, and she wasn’t a bad person for allowing herself to enjoy these things with a man who made her feel like she mattered.
Not that Matteo hadn’t made her feel like she’d mattered... But she had come second after his purist beliefs. Third, if she also added his calling as a master weaver to the list.
They worked until midnight, only taking breaks to eat and stretch their legs. During these breaks, Rune checked on the patients, though it wasn’t much he could do. He applied vinegar compresses and helped the few of them who were still conscious drink some fever-relieving teas. When they were too tired to work, they went back to the Black Eagle and slept for a few hours, then returned to the sacristy before dawn the next day.
It took Seraphina and Rune a day and a night to fix the broken lattices. As they were done with one, Seraphina would take it to either Katharina or Barbara, and they would find a way to hang it near the patients’ beds, trying to get as many patients as possible in proximity of the lattice. The Quietus Nets and the Antipyretic Nets worked well enough if they were pinned to the fabric screens used to separate the patients from each other. The nurses moved the screens to create an enclosed space around the patients that were in critical condition and pinned the lattices as Rune finished them. The Anodyne Bands, which were for pain, worked best if they were placed directly on the patient’s body. Rune finished three of the initial six before he and Seraphina had to retire to bed, and the nurses spent the night moving them from one patient to another. When all the lattices were fixed, it became easier, as the nurses created a second partition for the patients that hadn’t yet fallen into a coma. These were the patients that got better first. Their fever went down, the ache in their bones became manageable, and some of their spots cleared. However, they were far from being healed.
“What more can we do?” asked Seraphina.
She and Rune were standing before the altar, looking up at the statue of a crucified Christ. Rune had told her it looked made of gold, but Seraphina could only see its shadow, and it was positively black.
“They call it the bone fever because it was caused by bones,” he mused. “Two lattices made of specific bones, in a specific pattern that poisoned the water and the bodies of those who drank it. The illness took root within, consumed the sick, and latched onto new victims by spreading through miasma.”
“So, we need a bone to heal it?”
“Or a lattice that would act as an antidote.”
All this time, Barbara had been close enough to listen in on their conversation. She stepped forward, her hands touching in prayer in front of her chest.
“Do you truly believe an antidote would be possible?”
Rune turned to her. His hood was perpetually pulled low over his brow whenever he was in the presence of other people. Not that the women hadn’t noticed his stitched-up face, but given how much he’d helped them, they’d chosen not to comment. The war had, indeed, maimed a lot of people, in a lot of ways, and the sick of Langenbach were the last to judge the appearance of others.
“I believe it’s worth considering,” Rune said with caution.
“Langenbach is a small town,” Barbara continued. “This is the only church left intact after the bombardment, and the only relic we have is a lesser one, unfortunately. Father Johann has cared for it and protected it, and the priests before him as well. But it doesn’t do much.”
“This is the church of Saint Nikolaus of Myra,” Seraphina said. “Does this mean you have one of his bones?”
“Yes.”
“Which one? His body offered four relics, two greater and two lesser.”
“We have the patella.”
“That is the kneecap.” Seraphina nodded. “If memory serves, the kneecap gives off a pleasant miasma.”
Barbara nodded. “Essentially, one could say... it’s a bone that smells nice.”
Rune perked up at that. “And you have it?”
“Yes, it is locked in the church’s vault.”
“I would like to see it.”
