"The professor's misfortune has nothing to do with ," Jenkins muttered to himself inside the racing carriage. "I'm not the one who brings bad luck to people. My only divine domain is lies."
He nudged his elbow, pushing the cat that was sliding from his chest toward his stomach back up.
"Then again, it does seem that eting the professor outside the church almost always results in so kind of accident," a small voice in the back of his mind added.
True to Papa Oliver's promise of a generous bonus for speed, the carriage carrying the three n and one cat reached the Legacy Sage Church in record ti. While Papa Oliver handled the paynt, Captain Bincy led Jenkins up the stone steps and into the church. The sun was now sinking below the horizon, and the church was nearly empty of worshippers. As Jenkins hurried in, the few nuns, priests, and even the elderly vicars present gave him a slight, respectful bow.
The two of them hurried through the main sanctuary and into the courtyard, where they ran into Mr. Smith, the Keeper of Secrets. After a brief exchange, they learned that the Church was using a special thod to keep the five victims alive, but had been unable to awaken them.
The ward was surprisingly crowded, but when Jenkins arrived, Miss Bevanna dismissed most of the people inside. Only she, a Mr. Coppola Bellini, and Mr. Pierre Rodeney remained.
The forr, Mr. Bellini, was the director of the Office of Special Item Managent and was holding an elegant, four-legged incense burner of enal and filigree. The latter, Mr. Rodeney, was the director of the Hall of Theological Research and was checking what looked like dical charts.
Miss Bevanna gestured for Jenkins to examine the patients on the beds. Jenkins nodded and, as he approached, asked Captain Bincy to relay the information he'd shared in the carriage about his encounter with the professor.
This building was a wing of the church dedicated to treating ergency cases, so the room's decor was similar to that of a hospital ward. The only difference was the more pronounced religious atmosphere, which was to be expected, given this was the Church.
Gas lamps shaped like cherubs blowing horns adorned the walls, and the iron bed fras, forged from the sa material as the city's steam pipes, looked exceptionally sturdy. The professor lay on the bed nearest the door, still dressed in the sa clothes he'd been wearing that afternoon.
His clothes were now marred with dirt and bloodstains, however, and the cuff of his left sleeve was scorched. Jenkins could only wonder what he and his companions had gone through.
Directly above the headboard of each bed, a brass-colored listening tube was mounted on the wall. A simple tug on the device would alert the doctors in the central office on that floor.
Rumor had it the Church of Creation and Machinery was working to improve this crude system, hoping to utilize the existing steam and gas lines to create a short-range network capable of transmitting numbers and even letters with precision...
The thought made Jenkins recall a scene from his recent vision of the "future." During his first "trip," the uniford police officer across the street had seed to be using a similar device.
He shook his head, pushing the stray thoughts aside for the mont. He lifted the cat from his shoulder and set it down, then placed his right index and middle fingers together on the professor's neck. He wasn't checking for a pulse, of course; this was his way of sensing life force.
Even back when his ability was at the "Breath of Healing" stage, Jenkins could vaguely perceive a creature's vitality through direct contact. Now, after the ability had evolved thanks to that wooden dagger, he could feel the flow of life force with perfect clarity through his skin.
As his fingers rested on the professor's neck, he imdiately felt a surging torrent of vitality. Just last week, Jenkins had treated four Scribes for broken arms, yet none of those n, all in the pri of their lives, possessed a life force as astonishingly powerful as the professor's.
He closed his eyes, relaxing his senses and focusing his efforts on perceiving the life force circulating within the professor's elderly fra. He was searching for any disruption or imbalance, but no matter how he tried, the green currents flowed perfectly through the professor's body and soul. Jenkins could find nothing amiss.
"It's not an injury. It has nothing to do with his physical body."
He reached this conclusion. After a mont's hesitation, he moved his fingers to the professor's forehead.
This was clearly not an ailnt his [Life Source] ability could heal. Jenkins suspected the problem lay with the soul. Since Miss Bevanna and the Keepers of Secrets were stumped for the ti being, he felt he had to act. If they went too long without proper treatnt, there would surely be complications, even with the Church's thods of keeping them alive.
With his fingers on the professor's forehead, Jenkins drew on the strength of his own powerful soul to directly perceive the professor's. He had never attempted such a thing before, but instinct told him it was possible.
Following his instinct, he did indeed feel the faint presence of a soul, though the sensation wasn't entirely clear. He opened his eyes. For just a split second, a flash of purple light flickered in their depths—a sight only the cat could see.
"I see it..."
After perceiving the soul's fluctuations, he had opened his eyes and used his Eye of Reality. What he saw was a tendril of black, snake-like smoke coiled around the professor, piercing through his temples and his heart. This, he surmised, was the true reason for their comas.
Even if he hadn't spotted it, Jenkins figured that Miss Bevanna and the Keepers of Secrets would have eventually found a way to detect this strange aura.
"Can you wake them?"
Miss Bevanna asked as Jenkins drew his fingers back.
"Their bodies are fine, so my abilities are likely useless here. But I sense a malevolent presence. I believe the power of sacred arts should be able to rouse them."
Jenkins answered honestly.
Three of the comatose victims were professors from the academy; the others were young teaching assistants. All of them were devout followers of the Legacy Sage with impeccable backgrounds, and their work aligned perfectly with the Church's doctrines. They were precious mbers of the faith, and the Church would spare no effort to save them.
Of course, finding out what happened to the rest of their party was also crucial.
There was no ti to waste. Ard with Jenkins's assessnt, Miss Bevanna personally led a team to investigate the river ruins south of the adows. The ritual to treat the professor and his colleagues would be presided over by Mr. Smith, the Keeper of Secrets, who was not on duty at the Gate of All Things today.
It wasn't too late in the evening. The clergy needed to chant the Sage's scriptures for the ritual had just finished their daily duties. None of them had left yet, whether they lived within the church grounds or had their own hos outside, so organizing a large-scale ritual would not be difficult.
Mr. Smith clearly already had a ritual in mind. The ceremony was to be held in an open plaza beneath the infirmary wing. Jenkins had never been down here before and was surprised to find such a vast, open space.
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