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“What is going on here?” Jenkins stared in mild horror at the Annex table.
He thought that he’d be alone in the Library for at least a few days. Colonel Baird had given the young Librarians a week’s leave to go see their families and relax. “We all need a chance to unwind, see new people.” She’d said. “The army makes soldiers go on regular leave for a reason – spending so much time with the same people is enough to make a pacifist trigger-happy.” Jenkins was just glad for the chance to have his space back. The Annex had never been so quiet once everyone else had left (the quiet had never felt so lonely either, something deep inside whispered).
The man proceeded to close himself in his laboratory and catch up on his experiments without the constant interruptions (not that they were bad interruptions, something whispered). It was only when he emerged two days later for some more tea that he noticed it – The Library had, once again, been invaded. The difference in the air, the quiet, made it obvious that there was more than one person occupying the space. It was almost expected – last time Colonel Baird had given the young Librarians a day off, all of them had migrated back within a few hours. Jenkins just wasn’t expecting it to be the Colonel herself.
The long table was covered with strewn papers – both old manuscripts and newer printouts – with books and with artefacts. He could see Bathsheba’s Oil of Healing, the Shroud of Lazarus, the Rod of Asclepius, the Golden Fleece. There were smaller magical objects, like snakestones, adder stones and bezoars. In one corner was a small pile of plants, made up largely of verbena and silphium. Mixed in was what looked like half a drug store, six small first aid kits and a large medical chest. Stepping closer, he could see that every single paper, every book and manuscript pertained to a single topic – Healing. There was a list of every healing artefact the Library contained, and a list of ones that were missing. A small pile of pens and a bright red notebook held court at the head of the table alongside a group of used coffee cups.
When Jenkins had seen Colonel Baird off two days ago, she had seemed fine. A little run down and ragged at the edges, but fine. She needed the break as much as the Librarians did, though she hadn’t admitted it. Now… She was organising papers at the other end of the table and hadn’t flinched at his question. Hadn’t even looked up. Her hair wasn’t pulled back as normal, but in a messy bun secured with a pencil. Even from this distance he could see the dark marks under her eyes, the shaking in her hands. There were ink smudges on her face, like she’d fallen asleep on her papers.
That sleep didn’t appear to have been restful.
Jenkins cleared his throat. “Colonel?”
She looked up with a start, hand slipping to her hip. She relaxed. “Oh, Jenkins. You startled me.”
“Yes, I can see that,” He raised an eyebrow at the hand that hadn’t left the butt of her gun. “Do I want to know what you’re doing?”
Colonel Baird winced at his tone and came to join him at the other end of the table. “I just want to be prepared.” Close up, the dark smudges were more pronounced, wrinkles obvious in her clothes. “We’ve already had some close calls and I – we can’t be constantly scrambling for – if we’d known about Bathsheba’s oil, if it was somewhere closer to hand – and I know we can’t use it for everything, it’s not like we can just pop down to the pharmacy to get more – we need options. I…” She looked annoyed at her own disjointed sentences. “I need to know what we have and what we don’t. I can’t not know.”
Jenkins nodded slowly. He had seen this before – the manic need to do something, do fix things – many times in his long life. “I assume this is because of your recent mission to collect the Gems of Asteria?” That had been one of the Librarians’ harder cases. Mr Stone received a concussion, Mr Jones and Cassandra a series of small cuts and bruises. Colonel Baird had suffered the worst, with numerous second degree burns and one third degree burn half the length of her forearm. Cassandra had been distraught, and even Mr Jones was somewhat subdued.
“It’s not the only reason, but yes. Things are only going to get harder, and I want to be prepared. I want all of us to be prepared.” The Colonel grabbed one of the small first aid kits. “That’s why I’m putting together these.”
Inside was a surprising number of items for such a small space. A bandage roll, dressing pads in descending sizes, bandage tape, a small bottle of antiseptic and saline… “Impressive.” Jenkins handed the kit back.
“It’s not quite done yet,” Colonel Baird said, “I still need to add in general remedies for the more magical situations were get into, as well as some of that miracle paste you used on my arm.”
“I see. Did the Library provide you with the recipe for the Panacea?” Jenkins asked, “You seem to have all the ingredients ready.”
She waved the aged paper carefully. “It was dropped on my head when I was scouring the healing section. Not sure if it was the Library or just luck.”
Jenkins took it from her hand and looked it over. Verbena, silphium, aloe vera, batrachite, Golden Fleece, unicorn horn, Rod of Asclepius, water from Nanteos’ cup… “Considering that this recipe was in my desk last time I looked, I’d say the Library had a hand in it. Would you like some assistance putting it together?”
Colonel Baird looked surprised. “I thought you had experiments to do. Don’t change your plans on my account.”
He waved a hand nonchalantly, already moving to collect bowls and pestles from his laboratory, “The require a waiting period for the best results. This will simply be a way of spending my time productively.”
(If he turned off his Bunsen burners and shelved the more volatile chemicals on his way out, well, that was his business)
**************
The actions of grinding down ingredients in a mortar was second nature to Jenkins. The royal purple verbena flowers were turned to royal purple paste in short order, with the golden silphium flowers following suit. The mindless work left him the chance to observe Colonel Baird.
She moved about the table the same way she did anything – with purpose. Her hands were steady as they measured out water in Nanteos’ cup, steady as she removed the slippery clear core of the aloe vera. As she ground together unicorn horn and batrachite in a second pestle, Jenkins had the feeling that the Colonel had done this before.
“Mom liked to grind her own herbs for dishes,” she said without prompting and without looking up from her work, “Crushing up some soft rocks and a unicorn horn of all things isn’t much different.” The resulting powder was silvery with a greenish tint.
In a silver bowl, the powder, the paste and aloe vera gel was mixed together to form a thick consistency not unlike dough. It was an unappetising shade of green with an almost metallic tint. Jenkins cut off a small piece of the Golden Fleece and placed it in Nanteos’ Cup, where it immediately began to smoke.
Colonel Baird took a small step back. “Is it meant to do that?”
“The water in Nanteos’ Cup is so pure, so full of life, that to drink more than a single drop will kill you,” Jenkins’ explained calmly, “Wearing a single strand of the Golden Fleece is enough to make one immortal and survive any attack. The excessive healing of the water is partially negated by the Fleece. There’s also the opposing associated pantheons, so a little bit of smoke is expected when they interact.”
He nodded towards the remaining batrachite. “Batrachite, or frog stone, is famed for its preventive properties regarding poison. Only a bezoar is better, but those lose their potency when ground. Unicorn horn, willingly given, can purify the most septic of wounds. Aloe vera, verbena and silphium are all healing plants. And by using the Rod of Asclepius to bring it all together, you have one very strong healing paste.”
The Colonel whistled quietly. “That seems like witchcraft and wizardry levels of potion-making Jenkins.”
“Well… you’re not completely wrong.” He held the silver bowl out. “Would you like to do the honours?”
She took it gingerly. “This isn’t going to blow up in my face, is it?”
“The mixture is perfectly stable Colonel.”
The look she levelled him said it all. “Here it goes then.” The dough slid into the wooden cup with little fanfare, sinking to the bottom and staying there.
Jenkins handed her the Rod of Asclepius. “One hundred and ninety-six times round the cup Colonel.”
“A hundred and what?”
“One hundred and ninety-six stirs are required. Fourteen times fourteen. You’re lucky it isn’t more – I know of a potion that requires two thousand, seven hundred and forty-four stirs every fourteen hours.” Jenkins inclined his head to her as he headed towards the door. “I leave the Panacea in your capable hands Colonel. I should get back to my experiments.”
She inclined her head in turn. “That you Jenkins, for doing this. Went a lot faster with help.”
He hesitated. “Can I ask why you didn’t bring this up to the Librarians? I’m sure Cassandra, especially, would like to help.”
Her face was tight as she began to stir. “They needed the break.”
“Don’t forget you need a break too Colonel. The Librarians need a healthy Guardian.” As he left, he could hear her murmur behind him.
“The Guardian needs living Librarians.”
**************
Several hours later, Jenkins looked up from his test tubes to see a fresh pot of tea and a small pile of melted ham and cheese sandwiches under the heat lamp. Set beside them was a green first aid kit, with Caretaker: Mr Jenkins written across the top in Colonel Baird’s distinctive handwriting – that is to say, it was barely legible and very much a hasty doctors’ scrawl. As he poured a cup of fragrant jasmine tea, he couldn’t hide his smile.
The Library felt very warm.