A Study of Ash & Smoke by Yolandie Horak

Author:Yolandie Horak [Horak, Yolandie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy, gaslamp fantasy, science fiction, steampunk
ISBN: 9781999064815
Amazon: B07QPQJCN2
Publisher: Yolandie Horak
Published: 2019-05-20T06:00:00+00:00

Thirty

CARA SAT UP IN bed and shoved off the covers. Another night without rest. It was probably, what, midnight?

As if in answer, the clock in the hall gonged twelve.

Everybody assumed that her lack of sleep and poor appetite were due to Chastain’s death. In truth, she had been mourning him since that day in the market—a realisation she couldn’t deny once the initial shock of his death had softened. His loss had left a wound, but it had closed and healed.

Maybe I should be grieving rather than longing—that’s the problem.

Nathan had touched her cheek. Such a small thing, a gesture meant to comfort, something kind one did to aid a friend. Yet Cara relived the moment constantly—the electricity of it, the thrill, and the surprising comprehension that she had fallen in love with him.

His offering of friendship was rain in a drought, each drop gorged upon by a barren landscape. For a while, his companionship had been enough, but a single touch, slightly more intimate than those that had come before, had changed everything. She craved more. All of him.

Nathan couldn’t know what she felt. She didn’t want to ruin his reputation by implicating him in a scandal, nor could she unlearn what she now knew. So, she avoided him. Not that it helped, when she was alone with him in her thoughts so often.

As always, studying was the answer. She flipped on the light as she jumped out of bed, then picked one of the books Jerry had wanted her to read. The words morphed into shifting stains on the page. She rubbed her eyes then returned the book to the pile.

Cara inhaled over the count of ten, then held the breath. She exhaled and rolled her neck. When she stood, she noticed a small envelope on the floor, just to the side of the door. What? She took the envelope and slid her finger under the flap to open it. “The slum notes. Right.” She must have kicked it out of the way in her haste to get ready for work.

The story told in the notes had become as familiar as a tale from her childhood. Nothing new was ever revealed. The same symptoms in the same, barely legible handwriting.

She sat on the bed and shifted until her back was propped against the wall.

Male, fifty-seven. Necrosis, swollen lymph glands. Died on seventh day, five dead rats by his feet. Male, fourteen. Blood in vomit, excessive coughing. Necrosis and lymph. Died on eighth day. Female, twenty-three. Pregnant. Miscarriage on seventh day, which killed the patient.

Cara swallowed.

Male, age unknown. Lymph. Lungs, necrosis. Died on eighth day. Female, sixty-one. Found dead, approximately three days post-mortem. Necrosis, lymph, insect bites.

Cara stared at the last sentence for minutes, then flipped back to the first case. Insect bites and dead rats. She had seen the words so many times by now that her eyes almost skimmed over them. But it was important. What was it that Nita had said? Nobody likes being munched on by critters.

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