“Glad to see you are feeling better.”

“Where’s my wife?”

McCarthy’s face went blank at Ed’s question. It had been a couple of days since Ed’s battle with Jannes and McCarthy’s fight with Lee. Ebenezer had been put in charge of Ed’s health and the apothecary’s poultices had speeded his recovery. Somehow, Ebenezer had managed to reattach his arms, with full functionality. These now functional arms were on the edge of McCarthy’s desk. Ed had leaned in close, a gesture of disrespect he didn’t have the courage for before and McCarthy never had the tolerance for. But… things had changed between them.

Ed asked again, slowly and carefully.

“Where is my wife?”

It was grey outside; the usual sunshine wasn’t pouring through the massive window behind McCarthy. His suit was a dark grey today, three-piece — vest tie and all — black leather shoes though. Black belt as well. But a plain white shirt and socks. A few days worth of facial hair growth decorated the Chancellor’s face. His black hair no longer slickly gelled, but dishevelled and wild. His blue eyes red and stormy — like he hadn’t slept in days. The deep smell of tobacco and the mountain of ash on his desk were a testament to his mood.

McCarthy leaned back in his chair slowly, the wood creaking under his movement. He ran a calloused hand through his hair and sighed deeply.

Ed waited.

McCarthy steepled his hands, his two missing fingers obvious.

Ed waited some more.

McCarthy pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. It was black this time, not the normal white ones. Ed’s eyebrows went up, he recognized the brand. They were illegal in some parts of the Union, and prohibitively expensive. Empyrium Black… the tobacco in those cigarettes was exceptionally strong, they came from a rare breed of tobacco that had been augmented with magic power — they were listed as poisonous in most Botany Books.

McCarthy lit the cigarette. He inhaled. Deep. Then exhaled, slowly. A thick black cloud of noxious smoke hung in the air for a moment before vanishing. Just a light whiff of it almost made Ed pass out from dizziness.

“Would you like…” McCarthy began slowly, pulling his cigarette from his mouth as he spoke. “… Your hand back?”

A draft of wind opened a desk drawer. A jar with green liquid and a shrivelled ebony hand floated on top of McCarthy’s desk. McCarthy landed the jar right beside Ed’s stub. Ed looked at his hand and stared suspiciously at McCarthy.

“Where. Is. My. Wife.”

Ed asked again. It was a statement not a question.

McCarthy breathed deep from his cigarette again. He stared at Ed deeply. But Ed would not back down. McCarthy sighed again.

“I didn’t make it in time…”

“Is she…” Ed began quietly. But McCarthy raised a hand, stopping his speculation.

The Chancellor continued, ignoring Ed’s interruption, his voice dry and pained.

“… Lee injured her… deeply… but she’s not dead.”

Ed’s eyes lit up, he almost leapt over the desk. “She’s not dead?”

McCarthy shook his head slowly and wearily. The motion seemed incredibly difficult for him. Wrinkle lines seemed to appear around the edges of his eyes, like he had aged enormously in that one moment.

Ed didn’t notice.

“When can I see her?” The eagerness in his voice amplified by the pain he felt at her absence.

McCarthy looked away from Ed’s hungry expression and whispered softly, “In three days time… she should be stable enough for you to visit. But, the procedure will take —”

“Thank you!” Ed stretched across the desk and seized McCarthy’s hand in his own, his stub bumping the Chancellor’s wrist. Ed shook McCarthy’s hand fiercely, tears pouring down his face as he mumbled “thank-you” over and over again.

McCarthy was too shocked to tear himself free of Ed’s grasp.

Eventually the old Psyker pulled away and bowed to McCarthy, “Thank you so much for saving her! I know under your care she’ll get better! I know this! I know this! I can wait three days until I see her! I can wait forever… without her… without her… I didn’t… I didn’t know what love was… We’ve been married for sixteen years, did you know that? I can’t… I’m sorry. I’ll be leaving now… I… I’m so happy… I was so scared… I was so scared…” The tears began to fall afresh, Ed quickly grabbed the jar with his hand and sprinted out the door, before McCarthy could say anything.

McCarthy stared at his open office door. Then closed his eyes and crumpled the black cigarette in his hand.

Ed popped his head back in the door, “And sir… if you keep up this habit you’ll get —”

“Get out!”

Ed smiled bashfully and vanished again.

McCarthy leaned farther back in his chair and grinded the cigarette in his hand to powder. The motion fuelled by guilt and rage — a potent mixture for an unstable man.

“Prick.”

The word contained far more gravity than it should. It seemed to alter the heavens with its weight. The Chancellor brooded. The sky grew darker. He gave a start and looked out the window, as if noticing the grey sky for the first time. He waved his hand and whispered under his breath. Like the switching of a painter’s canvas everything was changed, everything was bright and sunny once more.

He got up from his chair and sprinted down the halls in a hurry. He made his way down the stairs and traversed corridor after corridor until he was in front of Lord Elderweiss’ door. A black cigarette hung in in his mouth, he breathed deep. Drained it. Flicked it against the door. Grinned to himself. Then knocked.

“Who is it?” Came the tired voice.

“It’s me.”

A groan sounded on the other side of the door, “No more! No more projects you fiend! I can’t keep up with your —”

“I’ve just come to check up on her.”

“Oh… what’s there to check up on, she’s —”

“DON’T SAY IT!”

The gilded oaken door rattled on its hinges as McCarthy’s shout shook the wall. Silence followed from the other end of the door. McCarthy’s chest heaved from the outburst of anger. Slowly, the door creaked open. McCarthy flung it open, stormed in and shut the door. He walked down the long eerie room, ignoring the creepy blue lights that hung in the air. Soon he reached Lord Elderweiss’ skeletal frame. The cultivator was at the end of a desk, surrounded by book shelves that seemed to stretch on to infinity. The eerie light doing little to make him appear any less ghastly than usual.

The man’s skin was taunt against his boney frame, his purple and gold robe exceptionally dirty. His fingers black with ink. His green and orange eyes staring vacantly at stacks of papers and diagrams — scattered all over his desk, walls and floors. When the sound of McCarthy’s feet stopped behind him. The elderly looking man turned around. He stepped into McCarthy’s personal bubble and stabbed a finger at his face.

“You keep interrupting my research! I was so close to solving Da Shan’s cuneiform code!”

“That’s what you said last year…” McCarthy responded dryly, backing up a little bit to gain some space. The Chancellor noticed the mess. The mess irritated him, but not as much as it used to, the urge to clean, the desire to combat the erratic and flighty nature of wind had lessened. McCarthy shook his head. I’m changing… He pulled out a black cigarette but before he could light it a boney hand swatted it away. Elderweiss looked more shocked than McCarthy, like it was done on reflex.

“WHAT THE PRICKING HELL ELFSKIN!” McCarthy roared in anger a bubble of energy burst from his mouth like a torrent.

It was heading for the research.

“Not the papers!” Elderweiss shrieked and crushed a gem in his hand.

Fwomphf!

A blue wall materialized behind the skeletal cultivator, Elderweiss shouted as he was flung back into the barrier by the force of McCarthy’s shout. Books were flung in the air and one of the shelves collapsed under the trauma of the blow. Dust and shards of wood flew everywhere.

McCarthy breathed heavily as books and papers seemed to fall from the sky in an infinite amount. His face contorted in pure rage, “No one! No one tells me what to do! I AM THE CHANCELLOR!”

“You have a damn problem!” Hissed Elderweiss as he slowly got up, his face a mix of anger and resignation.

McCarthy fumed at the antagonistic response, “You think you can match me Elderweiss?!” Paranoia creeped into his voice, his eyes going wild and his voice into a low threatening growl, “Do you also wish to betray me?”

“No you damn twit! This is a sensitive area… experiments are being run here!” A shrivelled finger pointed at the black cigarette on the ground. “That’s an Empyrium Black… the smoke from that tobacco would contaminate my experiments!” The cultivator gestured expansively to the beakers filled with organs and fluids behind the blue barrier. “Are you trying to ruin years worth of work!”

Creak. Crack. Shatter!

The barrier dissolved into glistening blue fragments. Elderweiss looked around and sighed. He looked at McCarthy, his rage gone, only resignation remained. “That gem… it wasn’t cheap…”

McCarthy’s face blanched, he turned away. “Leave me an invoice.”

Resignation turned to relish, “Will do… He! Anyways, let’s take a look at this cadaver you’ve brought me.” Elderweiss wrung his hands together and hopped over to one of his shelves and pulled out a stack of books, seemingly at random. He stepped back, a look of satisfaction on his face as the wall faded to mist and dissolved, revealing a secret room. In the room was grey machine. It hissed and whirred, steam pouring from openings and vents. It was round and filled with knobs and dials. Inserted in the top of the machine was a giant glass tube filled with green liquid and suspended in the tube was a woman. Her hair was black and curly, even underwater. Her skin smooth and black. Her oval-shaped face and long lashes complimented her attractive figure. And if her eyes were open, they would be hazel.

It was Edna.

Dead.

Lifeless in everyway.

McCarthy and Elderweiss slowly sauntered up to the tube. The Chancellor stepped close, he opened a palm and placed in on the glass and stared at her unopened eyes. His eyes were filled with sadness and regret.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I couldn’t make it in time to save you… and I’m sorry for what I’m about to do… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

Elderweiss’ face turned red. McCarthy had become oblivious to his presence and didn’t realize he was speaking out loud. Elderweiss coughed.

McCarthy gave a start. He looked at Elderweiss, his eyes still brimming with tears.

Elderweiss paused… not knowing how to handle the increasingly erratic Chancellor. A boney hand stroked an even bonier jaw, his jewellery jingling as he stroked. He began slowly.

“What exactly are you about to do?”

McCarthy looked away and fumbled for a cigarette, a white one this time. He stuck it his mouth, his hands shaky. His words were equally shaky, “I told Ed… I told him… she was alive.”

“Prick.”

“I know I shouldn’t do that… especially after what happened to me… especially since I know… I know… I know I’m wrong.” He clenched his fists and his eyes steeled as he lit the cigarette with a match, “But I mustn’t lose Ed. I have leverage over him! I have it!” Smoke filled the air as McCarthy stared at the tube, his eyes bleeding obsession. He turned to Elderweiss, “We need to bring her back… we can test Da Shan’s work on her!”

Elderweiss was aghast, “WITCHCRAFT!”

“No… it’s not Witchcraft… it’s different… I can feel Da Shan’s work is different!”

“Yeah! Because it won’t resurrect people from the dead! It doesn’t do that! It does something else! It’s not black magic, it’s not even magic!”

“What does it do then?!” Retorted McCarthy in anger.

“I don’t know!”

“DAMMIT ALL!” McCarthy slammed his fists against the glass — the tempered glass stronger than it looked. Elderweiss’ eyes opened wide in fear, his white irises almost fading into his pale skin. Though the glass was treated… still.

He screamed, “Are you trying to ruin — wait… wait a minute… I just noticed something.”

McCarthy’s eyes went wild.

Elderweiss continued unabated, rather more focussed, his orange and green eyes stared back at McCarthy’s blue, “When you shouted… you didn’t use Wind Cultivation… you used —”

“Don’t say it.”

Elderweiss jerked his chin defiantly, “She’s my sister I can talk about her research as much as ­—”

“Don’t say it. We’ll talk later.”

“… As long as we talk. I was never able to figure out that method…”

“I’ll help you.” McCarthy waved his hand absently. His eyes took on a cruel glint as they shifted around, eyeing every dark corner of the room, “But not here… You never know who’s listening.”

Elderweiss snorted, “Let them listen… I’ll just rip out their bones, and who the frig is them?”

McCarthy looked around. His eyes manic as they roved all over the room. Unsatisfied with his visual search he breathed deep from his cigarette, draining it fully. McCarthy exhaled a cloud of smoke and started twisting his fingers in the air like a puppeteer. Soon the smoke swirled it into the shape of a ship. The little ship had sails and looked like galleon, complete with rigging and even a tiny smoky crew. The smoky captain relayed orders to his misty crew and the sails were unfurled and an invisible draft of wind billowed them out. The ship floated across the room, as if searching for something, the crewman in the crow’s nest with a spyglass to his eye. A few moments later it returned to the Chancellor. A breathy whisper floated from the ship Captain to McCarthy. He nodded absently and scratched the stubble on his face. Satisfied with the report he gently blew on the ship. It dissolved.

Elderweiss was flabbergasted. McCarthy’s strength was unfathomable to begin with… he just kept getting stronger and stronger.

Now certain no one was listening McCarthy gestured to Elderweiss. The other cultivator leaned in, his gold and purple robes touching McCarthy’s grey vest.

“We need to talk about Paderborn.”

*******

Ed nearly slipped on the wet cobblestone road that led to his house. Ebenezer reached out a hand and caught him.

“Thanks Ebenezer.”

“Just call me Eb,” the old apothecary grinned, showing his crooked smile.

“If I’m Ed and you’r Eb how are people going to tell us apart?”

Ebenezer was incredulous, “… You’re black.”

“I MEANT IN CONVERSATION!”

The medicine man waved away Ed’s shout with a casual gesture, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. How’s the hand holding up? Did I stitch it back well?”

“Did a damn fine job you old coot!” Ed opened and closed his hand as if to demonstrate his fine motor skills.

“That’s hardly a feat of strength…” Ebenezer’s dry response sent Ed’s prideful car crashing into the wall.

The dark skinned Psyker stared at the Apothecary with angst, “Then get a load of this!”

Ed took his southpaw boxing stance. He switched his feet a couple times for good measure, did a couple weaves and threw a few soft jabs at an invisible opponent. He spotted an oak tree at the edge of his property. Pretty sure that tree’s on my land… pretty sure… Whatever! Ed cleared his mind.

“Look here ya blind fool!” Ed pointed at the massive tree.

Ebenezer turned his head lazily and regarded the giant oak. It was at least twenty feet in diameter, no doubt a result of a certain someone washing away his medicinal poultices nearby. Ebenezer’s nose itched at the light scent of herbs that wafted into his nose. Ebenezer smiled. He felt a kinship to this tree. Little wooden friend, shall I help you out? He thumbed his left nostril. Then plunged the digit deep within to mine gold. He excavated the precious metal from the crevice and rolled it into a nice ball and flicked it — but it flew off target! The gooey ball landed in Ed’s hair — or lack of hair, on his bald head. The golden missile splattered onto Ed’s scalp, but the Psyker was too hyped up to notice. Ebenezer was horrified at what he had done. He was aiming for the tree! Ebenezer’s hair, “gold” and skin were all saturated with nutrients that benefited plant life — on account of his wood cultivation — he just wanted to help a kindred member of plantkind! As the mineral deposit dissolved into Ed’s scalp Ebenezer watched, powerless to stop it.

Almost instantly a black curly hair sprouted on Ed’s head.

Ebenezer’s jaw dropped in shock! My snot can grow hair?! Damn!!! I need to analyze this! The market is huge! Oh prick me… if my snot can grow hair… what the frig is my hair gel going to do to Oz?

“ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME!”

“DAMMIT STOP SHOUTING!” The apothecary rubbed his ears in irritation, then exclaimed with heat, “Light untold! I was thinking something important about Oz and I just forgot!”

“Don’t go thinking ‘bout ma boy.”

“Just shut up and show me yer damn circus powers!”

“IT’S PSYCHIC POWERS!” Ed punctuated the statement with a devastating left straight. A wobbling ball of ethereal energy plummeted into the oak. The tree rippled up and down, like a snake swallowing its pray. The deep thrum of bass filled the air. Then.

Boom!

The oak tree exploded into a cascade of splinters.

Ed smiled triumphantly.

Ebenezer put his hand to his heart and muttered, “I feel a strange sense of pain… like I’ve lost a friend.”

Ed turned to face his companion¸ “See, now that’s what I’ve been —”

“What did you do to my tree?”

The voice was gentle and quiet. But full and weighty. Ed and Ebenezer both jumped in surprise. Then turned. And were surprised.

In front of them was an old man — they didn’t notice him approach. He looked like a farmer. His back was bent and hunched over, and deep scars crisscrossed his brow. His beard was patchy, as if some of it had been torn out. He had a straw hat over his head and white hair peeked out from underneath its brim, his eyes were a glittering brown — seemingly dancing with light — and his skin was wrinkled with age. He wore a plain white and dusty tunic, tied around the waist with a rough rope. His feet and legs were bare and marred with scars. In his right hand was a gnarled old hoe, the metal rusty, the wood old and grainy. He leaned on it as if favouring his right side.

“Who’s asking?” Began Ed slowly. He’s never seen this man before. But if he was the self-professed owner of the tree… this could be a problem.

“Me.”

Ed almost shook a fist in anger, but upon seeing the old man’s wizened smile he reigned in his anger.

Ebenezer bowed his head and stepped forward, “Dear sir! It was this monster who has so brutally slain that one of plantkind! Please, exact of him the maximum penalty for his arsonous act!” The apothecary’s voice was laced with righteous indignation, then his tone became low and conniving. “He has lots of money he can certainly pay!” Ebenezer chuckled, his eyes devious.

Ed’s mouth went slack. “Sell out!” He shouted.

The old man raised his hand to stop Ebenezer from retorting.

“My name is Piers… you can repay me with labor… I need help ploughing my fields.”

“Eh? Ploughing? How do I know you even own the land?! Dammit those fields ain’t been ploughed since they was a forest — and they’ve been a forest forever!” Ed shook his fist angrily at the old farmer.

Ebenezer turned and was about to retort on the farmer’s behalf but was interrupted by Oz’s tearful cries.

“Papa! Papa!”

At some point during their conversation Oz had flung open the house’s door and sprinted out to them, his body covered in black poultice. As he ran tears streaked down his face and the visible skin was a fiery pink, globules of medicinal fluid dripped off him as he ran and smoke arose from wherever the sticky liquid touched the ground. A foul smell filled the air, more putrid than usual. There was definitely something wrong.

“Eh? Oz what’s wrong why are you —”

Blood. Oz coughed up red and black blood and collapsed before he could reach the men. Ed shouted. Ebenezer wrung his hands in worry. The ploughman looked on, his brown eyes aglow.

“What the hell happened to my boy?” Ed whisked off the liquid with a burst of psychic energy. He scooped up Oz in his arms and placed a hand on his forehead. “Dammit, his mind is on fire! What the hell is happening?!” Ed glared at Ebenezer accusation evident in his eyes.

Ebenezer’s face was filled with worry and he rummaged through his pocket and with one flick of his wrist emptied out an array of potions, herbs, poultices and mixtures. He fumbled through the pile, searching for something in his panic.

Ed shouted, “His mind is fading! What the hell?! He’s dying!” Tears began to fall down Ed’s face, “DO SOMETHING!”

“He took three doses at once!!! The recipe has been altered, I don’t —”

“WHAT THE HELL?! OZ NO!”

The boy’s breathing became erratic, his entire body began to turn beet red. The boy spasmed and gurgled out a massive amount of black blood.

The old farmer spoke.

“Open his mouth.”

Ed and Ebenezer froze. What did this stupid farmer say?!

“Open his mouth.”

Ed mutely complied to the strange command and opened Oz’s mouth. The boy coughed up more blood.

The farmer stepped up to Oz and held an old gnarled finger over the boy’s mouth. He raised his rusty hoe and dug into his finger, slowly slicing it open. A small drop of red glittering blood, flecked with gold, fell from the finger into Oz’s mouth. It dissolved on his tongue.

Immediately the boy was well. His flushed skin returned to normal. The beads of sweat on his body vanished and his eyes fluttered open. Oz’s brown eyes met the farmer’s. The old man smiled.

“You might need to come back every now and then for a little more… but you should be fine.”

Ed and Ebenezer’s mouths were open in stupefaction.

Ebenezer shuffled close to Ed and leaned in, his nasally voice grating Ed’s ears, “This is what you call a crouching tiger hidden dragon! Make nice… be a good farm hand!”

Ed groaned deeply and set down Ed on his feet. Though he was deeply suspicious of the farmer, he was also deeply grateful. Ed bowed to the farmer. “Sir… thank you… my son’s life is worth more to me than you could ever know.”

“Eh? A man my age might have an idea.”

Ed looked up hastily to see if he had offended the old man, but the mirthful grin on his lips told him otherwise. Ed continued, “I’d be honored to help you plough your fields… what’s your name?”

“My name is Piers. Piers the Ploughman.”