96 - Calbian Molting Tonic [Cherno]

“For these,” Firminus held up the yellow painkillers, “Swallow one pill every eight hours. For acute pain, chew two pills instead. They strain the liver somewhat, though you needn’t worry unless you eat them like candy.”

The yellow painkillers’ label read, in an attractive, commercial font:

TABRYXA

Since 3987 AB

The second painkiller came as greenish, cloudy liquid in bronze-and-glass cartridges lined up in a wooden box, the cartridges one centimeter across and five centimeters long. Firminus gave her a cartridge-fed injector to go with it, resembling her souldreg extractor in basic shape. Its outer case was decorated with bronze designs of similar style but far lesser complexity to the Catalyst’s injector. The second painkiller’s box was also labeled, though in a significantly less commercial manner:

Class 3 Pain Inhibitor

Property of the Grafting Church, Audunpoint Branch

Produced: 10th Day, 4th Moon, 5238 AB

“For truly serious pain, of the sort that would inhibit your ability to function; it turns your sense of pain sideways. If it comes to it, it can be useful as a combat drug. The solution is not toxic in the prescribed dosage and has no hazardous side effects, but those it does have are unpleasant enough that you will not want to use it unless you must. There is a storage and use guide inside the box with the side effects listed. Read the list once you have time. There are anathemists who would kill for this stuff, so keep it out of sight.”

Krahe glanced towards Casus, who gave her a solemn nod.

“The same warning pertains to this, though it applies to rogue grafters. Same thing with the guide,” he continued, taking out another box with yet more of the same phials. The difference was that the liquid was translucent with glimmering, wispy threads of deep blue. The label read:

Class 3 Graft Rejection Suppressant

Property of the Grafting Church, Audunpoint Branch

Produced: 17th Day, 9th Moon, 5224 AB

“In simple terms, inject this and come to us if you experience acute signs of rejection. Incision swelling, rashes, abnormal sensory experiences, loss of graft function, a kind of burning pain. You’ll know it if you feel it. Zavesh willing, you won’t. One dose will suppress acute rejection symptoms for two hours. It’s hell on your liver and deposits gunk in your veins, but it’s this stuff or Baneworm Venom Elixir. The odds that you will need it are infinitesimal, but I agree with Fidelia’s judgment; better to have it and not need it.”

Firminus returned to the large, round graft suppressant pills. Once more, the box had the same labels, but stamped on the paper box rather than nicely carved into wood. He took one out and partly unwrapped it, showing its glossy, dark-green surface.

“Just eat one every day until you run out. I suggest cutting them up into quarters and using liquid, they can be sticky. No side effects.”

He took out two long, narrow talismans, and plastered them over the middle line of the two Class 3 medicines’ labels. As for the Class 1 suppressants, he instead took a brush and just crossed the line out with silver-glittering ink.

Last of all, came the curious healing potion. Its injector was just as large as the Catalyst’s, though it only had one chamber and a simpler outer casing rendered in silver. The needle, however, was long and thick, abnormally so.

“This is Calbian Molting Tonic. You insert the needle between the ribs into your heart. Pull it out once the injector is empty, the tonic will make the hole seal itself. I can’t tell you how it works, only that it can help you survive beyond lethal injuries… Though getting full use out of it is not an enviable position. This one is from me, not Fidelia. I know you have a Kenoma Pocket, keep it in there. Go off, I still have business with the High Grafter after this.”

____________________________________________________________________________

The stretch of time from that moment to when Krahe sat down on the sofa of another hidden safehouse was suspiciously uneventful. Casus, having dutifully remained well outside the operating area during the procedure, spoke little on their way back, being tense and on alert. The vehicle provided to them was an unassuming little thing, a two-seater car whose body shape, though slick and tasteful, had touches reminiscent of the ancient antiques from the early decades of motorized transport. A moving art deco exhibit, made unassuming solely by the fact its extraordinary design sensibility was the norm. Its handling was, fortunately, nothing like the antiques it reminded her of, with a suspension that made cobblestones feel like smooth roadway, a pinhead turning radius, and a deceptively powerful engine. She learned the last part right away, as Casus drove much faster and more aggressively than she would have ever expected from him. It seemed effortless, but she supposed it made sense if this was similar to maneuvering in that armor of his.

The first thing he said to her when they arrived at the safehouse was: “Now my debt is repaid. A relic for a relic. I truly hope you do not come to regret your choice, though I get the sense you were the best possible fit for that eldritch thing, just as I was for my belt.”

“Guess so. Guess so…” Krahe said, still settling down.

Immediately afterwards, almost automatically, the Banisher vanished into the kitchen and returned with coffee. He then found his way to the living room’s cabinets and started reading. It was a touch unsettling how consistent the interior design was across these safehouses.

A question came to mind.

“Does graft-apostle status include being allowed to freely use these safehouses?”

“So it does, though I suspect you would prefer the absolute privacy of a dwelling wholly your own. You will find it fortunate that Audunpoint’s real-estate market is not overly difficult to navigate, at least when it comes to finding a place to live. If you maintain this pace, it ought to only take you a short time before you can buy a property on the spot… Emphasis on if.”