It was just past dawn and the admitting room to Brooklyn Hospital was nearly empty when the monster snuck up from the basement. As he lurched out from the basement stairs, nearly eight-feet tall and broad-shouldered, he startled a nurse, just beginning her rounds. The young and fresh-faced nurse dropped her charts, terrified, as she stared up at him. His battered and stained overcoat was wrapped tightly around his body, hiding all but his massive leather boots; the only thing that could be seen of his face was a brutish, unshaven jaw and a single large, bulging eye, red-rimmed and bloodshot, glaring out at the world. As her hands went to her mouth and she screamed, there seemed to be the crack of lightning and thunder in the background, illuminating the hall and casting deep shadows around his huge, brutish figure, before returning to the warm, peaceful morning sunlight from before. As she fled, papers flying out behind her, the monster grunted and turned towards the main lobby.

  Patients began scattering as they saw him coming, hobbling or wheeling themselves away as fast as they could. At the main doors, a woman was just arriving, being helped into the lobby by her struggling husband. She was wincing in pain, favoring a red and swollen ankle as her husband held open the doors. She looked up and saw the monster advancing towards them, and a moment later her husband was blinking, watching his wife sprint down the street, away from the Hospital.

  The monster ignored them all, picking up speed. At his side, he carried a bulky, swollen carpet bag, crammed so full that it was tied shut with two lengths of rope. With every step, it jostled and clinked, and strange, sharp edges poked out of the fabric, suggesting tools of some cruel, medieval design.

  He was ten feet from the double doors leading outside when the nurses at the admission desk noticed him. The younger nurse froze, her morning coffee halfway to her mouth. As the coffee began to slop and drip from her trembling hand, the older nurse turned around curiously to see what was the matter. When she caught sight of him, she gave a great sigh.

  “Doctor Paicus, you know what the Director said about you being up on the main floor,” she said in an exasperated tone.

  The monster froze and then slowly turned towards her. Out of his battered, stained overcoat, a surprisingly civil, educated voice spoke up. “I’m tired, Agnes,” he told her. “I’ve just worked a double-shift in the lower floors and I’m tired of taking the delivery exit up to the side street, tired of walking all the way around the hospital, just to reach the taxi stands in the front of the building.” He walked over to the counter and placed a hand on it, making the wood groan as he leaned over. As his back blocked out the morning sun, the younger nurse shrank lower in her chair, her eyes going wide. “I’ve worked here since this hospital was founded,” he complained, “why can’t I simply leave through the front entrance like everyone else?”

  “It’s Chief Crayton, you know that,” she reminded him. “He’s had it out for you for the past year.” She put a cigarette in her mouth and snapped the fingers on her free hand, concentrating. For a split second, there was a hint, a flash of a red symbol floating just above her thumb, then it was gone with a crackle and burst of light, replaced with a small yellow flame, suspended in the air. She brought her thumb up quickly to the cigarette and lit it, smiling up at him with amusement as she shook the flame away. “What you’d do to get on his bad side, anyways?”

  Dr Paicus reached up and removed his hat, revealing a slightly pointed skull with a crown of blonde-gray, slicked back hair. He had one, single eye in the middle of his forehead, just above the bridge of his wide, flat nose. It was a large eye, nearly the size of a goose’s egg, and hazel, when it wasn’t bloodshot. He gave a rueful sigh. “I reminded him who trained him,” he admitted.

  “In front of the rest of the staff?”

  “There might have been a few people there…”

  She laughed. “You need to find some way to work with him.”

  The Cyclops shrugged. “I’ve outlasted worse. Chief Mansfield didn’t even want me in the building. I had to work in the sheds outside.” He smiled bitterly. “This is progress...”

  She gave him a commiserating look. “If anyone asks, I haven’t seen you.”

  “You are a saint, Agnes. A living saint.”

  She snorted with laughter and made a shooing gesture with her hand. “Have a good morning, Doctor.”

  He smiled at her and then looked at the younger nurse, still frozen in fear. “And a good morning to you too,” he told her.

  The poor girl managed a strangled squeak and Agnes rolled her eyes. “Ugh, don’t mind her, sir. She’s new.”

  From somewhere behind them, there was the sound of a door slamming open and a young voice called out over the floor. “Doctor Paicus!? Doctor Paicus, just a moment!”

  Agnes picked up the morning paper and started to read. “Haven’t seen him all morning.”

  “Doctor Paicus!”

  Paicus gave Agnes a sour look and then turned. A young man in a white lab coat was rushing across the floor, almost stumbling in his hurry. “Doctor Paicus, thank God I found you,” he gasped, nearly out of breath.

  “Yes, William, good morning,” Paicus said, glancing towards the exit, oh so close now. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old brass pocket watch, scratched and pitted. “I’m late already,” he moaned, then glanced up at the young man. “What is it?”

  “We’ve got… we’ve got– there’s a- a-”

  “Take a breath!”

  William did so. “There’s an emergency, sir,” he finally panted. “Down in the east wing. The Director needs you.”

  Paicus’ eyebrow, long and bushy, rose. “Oh, that’s surprising.” He hesitated. “He asked for me specifically, did he?”

  William pushed his hair up out of his eyes. “Uh, not in so many words, sir,” he admitted. “It is an emergency though, sir!”

  Paicus nodded glumly. “I thought as much.” He patted William on the shoulder and started to edge towards the front doors. “Well, don’t worry, young William. I’m sure Chief Crayton has everything under control.” He hefted his bag and nodded again towards the nurses. “I’m sorry, but I really have to get going now,” he told them. “I have an important prior engagement-”

  William jumped in front of him suddenly. “Uh, I’m sorry, sir, but it’s a, uh, special emergency,” he told him.

  “A special-”

  “Your type of emergency, sir.”

  Paicus frowned. The exit was so close now, he could easily push by William and be out the door in moments. Indecision flashed across his face and then he sighed. “Lead the way.”

  William led him into the east wing, and then down to the lower floors. There were few patients in this part of the hospital, it was mostly used for offices, storage space, and the old demonstration theaters. Usually at this time of the morning, it was quiet, with doctors and staff preparing for the long day ahead, but now it was all in a panic. Nurses and orderlies were rushing about, shouting for various supplies, while a whole team was ransacking their small medical library, reading desperately through every journal and textbook under the frantic eyes of old Doctor Zimmer. Pages were practically flying as they tore through the books.

  “What’s going on?” Paicus asked.

  “The Director had her immediately moved to the old lecture theater when she arrived,” William explained, almost running ahead of him. “First he called in Chief Crayton, then everyone working the main floor, and then nearly every doctor in the hospital! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

  “I must have missed the call,” Paicus said dryly, unbuttoning his great coat. “And slow down, a doctor doesn’t run unless something’s on fire or there’s a free lunch involved.”

  William slowed down, but only just a bit. “Uh, that’s the thing, sir. She is on fire, or looks like it anyway. Smoke’s pouring out her body like a chimney!”

  Paicus’ eye widened. “Oh, really? How wonderful!” He quickened his gate. Now it was William’s turn to run after him.

  “Wonderful, sir?”

  “Of course! This is a fantastic opportunity!” He stopped then in the hallway, so suddenly that William collided with his back. “Of course, a doctor should never look too excited at the prospect of treating a patient either,” he told the young man contritely. “It’s a serious business we’re in after all. Even if,” he allowed, “it provides an opportunity to remind certain parties that magical remedies indeed still have a place in a modern hospital.”

  William smiled. “My thoughts exactly, sir,” he said. Paicus gave him a tight grin and they started down the hall again.

  As they hurried through the corridors, Paicus was muttering to himself. “Smoking from the inside, eh? The Ignatious curse, perhaps? Some form of poisoning? Or something she ingested, hmm? Oh, that might be it! Quickly, what color was she?”

  William stumbled, but before he could answer, the double doors to the old operating theater at the end of the hall sprang open. A flood of doctors and staff poured from the room, eyes wide in panic. As they rushed towards them, Paicus froze, then held his bag up over his head. The crowd slammed into him and then broke, bouncing off and flowing past, the finest medical minds in the hospital desperately running to get away.

  “What’s going on?!” Paicus yelled, but no one would stop to answer him.

  “Doctor!” William was crying out behind him. “Doctor Paicus, sir!” He was waving his hands, struggling to keep his head above the crowd as they carried him back down the hall.

  “William!” Paicus called out to him. He tried to wade with the crowd to reach, but they were carrying the young man off too quickly. “Go find Ficlan’s Bestiary in my office! Volume three!” he shouted. “It should be on top of the stack in the corner, under the janitor’s bucket! Oh, and bring the bucket too!”

  Paicus squinted, trying to tell if the boy had heard him. Then he saw his head reemerge, nodding frantically. “Yes-Yes, sir!”

  The flood of staff had meanwhile died down finally to only the slowest and most senior remaining. As they slowly tottered around him down the hall, he could now see a thick white fog creeping about the floor, only a few inches high. Paicus slowly lowered his bag and knelt down, staring at the vapors. When he looked up at the theater room doors, he could see the smoke leaking out from underneath the frame, and through the cracks.

  “Curious indeed,” he muttered.

  Before he entered, Paicus took a moment to adjust his tie and coat. He snatched off his hat, revealing a slightly pointed scalp, and carefully smoothed back his few strands of hair remaining. He had to make the best impression here; from the look of things, everyone was in a panic, and just when things looked lost, he would come in, bearing the solution to the Hospital’s woes. That was the just the thing he needed, of course. Let Chief Crayton try denying him lecture time on proper bone knitting technique and mer-skin grafts now!

  Taking a deep breath, he laid hands on the doors and opened them wide.

  “Good Morning, gentlemen, perhaps I can be of assistance–”

  “Let me go, you brutes!”

  The Director of the Hospital was struggling wildly, trying to fight his way out of the grip of Doctors Webb and Young, who both held him by the arms. The Director was straining towards the center of the room, where a small circle of doctors were gathered around a low metal tub on the floor, filled with ice, water, and smoke. Despite the hunks of ice piled up in the water, the entire surface was seething and bubbling, smoke pouring over the sides and covering the floors in a thick blanket. A senior doctor, Cobb, was hunched over the tub, his arms thrust elbow deep below the surface, where something was struggling weakly.

  “What in the hells is going on here!?” Paicus yelled. Everyone jumped and Cobb’s head snapped up, staring at him in shock. Paicus was at his side in an instant, pushing him back away from the tub. “Let her up before you drown the poor woman!”

  As Cobb stumbled back, the figure’s head broke free of the surface, and Paicus was suddenly engulfed in smoke. He waved his hand in the air, trying to clear the blinding fog, until a drenched and dripping face came into view.

  It was a thinly old woman, her face quite withered and gray. Her hair was piled up one side of her head, and though it looked to have been quite rich at some point, it was now scraggly and coming out in clumps. As she coughed weakly, spitting up water, small clouds of smoke escaped from her mouth, drifting down to the floor. William had been right, it did look like something was burning within her. Smoke was even bubbling out of her ears and nose. As she continued to hack, Paicus took hold of her hand, and lightly turned it over, noting the dark black veins pulsing on her wrist. His eye narrowed and he pursed his lips grimly.

  “Did-did it work?” she asked plaintively, coming back to herself. She held up her hand and stared at her own gray fingers. “Oh, drat,” she sighed, letting out a fresh burst of smoke, which only seemed to make her more despondent. “You better put me under again, doctor,” she advised. “Maybe hold me down for a bit longer this time?”

  “They most certainly will not!” the Director burst out. He pulled himself free from the other two doctors and marched up to the metal bath, taking hold of the old woman’s hand. He started to tug at her arm. “Get out of there this instant, Mrs Clark! This barbaric treatment has gone on long enough!”

  She pulled back against him, holding onto the tub with her other hand. “But it was just starting to work,” she protested. “I could definitely feel like something was starting to die out inside me. Like a light was starting to go dim…”

  “That’s called drowning,” Paicus told her bluntly.

  Mrs. Clark blinked and looked up, noticing him for the first time. “Oh, Doctor Paicus!” she started, and her face took on a wet, guilty look. “Good Morning! Uh… What brings you here?”

  “To the hospital where I work?” he asked, raising an extra long eyebrow. “Oh, nothing in particular. I’m more curious about you, though? Any strange new ailments to report, hmm?”

  She flinched and the smoke billowing out her ears seemed to speed up. He turned to Cobb and looked scornfully at the soaking doctor. “Is this how we’re treating patients these days? What a wonder modern medicine is!”

  Cobb opened his mouth helplessly, but a more stern and commanding voice answered for him. “We’re attempting to treat a serious case, Mr Paicus. Thank you, but your services are not required at this time.” Paicus turned to see Chief Crayton standing nearby, arms clasped behind his back.

  The highest ranking doctor in the Hospital, Chief Crayton was a thin, precise looking fellow in his early sixties. Despite the chaos of the room, he stood ramrod straight, with not so much as a hair or thread out of place on his body, from the hem of his lab-coat to the tip of his bottle-brush mustache.

  Even the Director blanched at the sight of Crayton. He blustered for a moment, waving his hands in the air. “Please, sir! Mrs Clark is a senior member of the Hospital Board. She needs to be handled with care and respect; she’s not a patient, for God’s sake!”

  Crayton waved a hand lazily in the air, and the small crowd of nurses and orderlies behind him flinched reflexively. “That’s what we’re doing, Director. There are, after all, far more invasive methods of determining what’s wrong with her.”

  Paicus followed his gaze and saw the surgical equipment laid out beside the operating table in the center of the room. He stepped in front of Mrs Clark and gave Crayton a cold look. “I can save you the trouble, Robert,” he told him.

  For a shadow of a second, a muscle twitched on Crayton’s face, then it was gone. “Thank you, Mr Paicus,” he said in his dry voice, “but again, a consult isn’t necessary If you could please return yourself back down to the basement, I’m sure–”

  Paicus shook his head. “No, I don’t think I’ll be hiding myself away this time. Despite not following my instructions, she’s still my patient, and I’m responsible for her care.”

  Crayton started back at him, and the tension hung thick in the air. The Director then stepped in carefully, wringing his hands as he looked pleadingly. “Please, what’s the harm in letting him try?” he asked Crayton. “This is exactly what I was telling you, after all: his expertise in the unnatural corners of medicine is exactly why we need him!” Crayton raised an eyebrow grudgingly, but the Director went on. “He knows the strange, and bizarre, and… and… I’m sorry,” he stopped suddenly, turning to Paicus. “Did you- did you say that she was your patient?” he asked, his face aghast. “Have you been treating a senior member of the Board?”

  “Mrs Clark is really more of an old friend…” Paicus started to explain, but the Director cried out in horror.

  “You can’t be treating high priority cases!” He chewed at his fist for a moment, looking appalled. “It's bad enough we allow you to treat the rank and file, but members of the Board…”

  “Mrs Clark came to me-”

  “Well, well, well,” Crayton said, smiling. His face was triumphant. “Have you finally stepped over the line, Mr Paicus? Inflicting this,” he waved his hand at the sopping woman, “on a member of the Board…” Behind him, the theater doors opened and William rushed in, clutching a large, battered tome in his hands. He froze and looked nervously around as he saw Crayton standing there. The Chief hardly noticed him. “You’re done here, Paicus,” he told him, smiling viciously.

  Paicus stared back at him, a corner of his eyelid raising slightly. “Mrs Clark came to me for arthritis pain, something that modern medicine,” he added, casting an eye at the other doctors in the room, “could give no relief to her except for ever-increasing doses of morphine.” The staff shuffled their feet, avoiding his gaze. “I prescribed a solution of diluted Ogre bile, very good for inflammation of the joints. It seems though that she looked for a secondary opinion however,” he remarked, turning back to Mrs Clark, who sunk back lower into the washtub.

  “Where’d you find the healer?” he asked. She remained down in the water, smoke-filled bubbles her only response. Paicus gently reached down and lifted her up higher. “You’ll get no judgment from me, ma’am,” he promised her, “but I need to know what his name was. And where you met. Unlicensed healers can do more harm than good, and more often than not, the blame falls on the law-abiding.”

  She stared at him, blinking back tears. “I tried the ointment you gave me, I really did!” she promised. “It wasn’t working though, I could barely hold a cup in my hands, and walking…” She whimpered and Paicus sighed. “He-he came to me,” she finally admitted. “He was a handsome young man, and a Human too! I thought he was trustworthy. Not like some, well,” she stammered, suddenly flustered and her voice trailed off, “some other types.”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Hmmm,” Paicus nodded, his face losing a bit of its warmth. “What was his name?” he asked dryly.

  “He didn’t mention it,” she admitted, and even in her poor state, she had enough in her to flush. “But he seemed so trustworthy! And charming! And he had such lovely eyes!”

  Paicus grunted. “They usually are trustworthy, right until they take your money.”

  “Oh, he didn’t want any money!”

  “That should’ve been your first warning.” Then his brow furrowed. “If he didn’t want money, what did he want then?”

  “Paper,” she said simply.

  Paicus looked back at her. “Paper?”

  She nodded, giving a little burp of smoke. “He wanted reams and reams of paper. My family owns several plants upstate so it was no problem, but I have no idea what he wanted them for.”

  Paicus seemed lost in thought. The Director meanwhile frowned, tut tutting slightly. “Mrs Clark, such behavior. If it got out that a member of the board was visiting unlicensed healers…”

  “I knew it wasn’t legal,” Mrs Clark explained lamely, “but he promised I’d be pain free in a matter of days. And it worked!” She began to wave her fingers, opening and closing her fists, as nimbly as if she were a child, smiling broadly. “No pain at all! And all it took was a single pill!”

  Paicus frowned, noting the sudden increase in smoke pouring out of her ears. “I believe you, but please! Don’t do that again.”

  He motioned quickly for William to come near. The young man ran forwards, studiously avoiding Crayton’s gaze. He laid the heavy tome down on the equipment table; its cover was scarred with dozens of what looked like tiny claw marks and spotted with acid burns. Paicus clicked open the heavy silver clasp and began to thumb through the pages, muttering to himself.

  “What’s this now?” the Director asked curiously, leaning over to look. He blanched as he saw the illustrations on the page; there were bugs and insects, creatures with many legs or none at all, writhing and crawling in vivid detail. “Ugh, how hideous!”

  “Hideous is quite a subjective term,” Paicus shrugged, still flipping through. “I prefer, differently beautiful. Still, several of the creatures here have incredible healing properties, when utilized correctly, that is.” He stopped finally and tapped the page, looking pointedly at William. He and the Director leaned down to see a spiny millipede-like insect, with long, whisker-like hairs running down its back. “William, if you would?”

  The young man moved closer, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he began to read aloud. “The Dolorcorre, or ‘Pain Gnawer’,” he gave a start and looked up at Paicus, who nodded, motioning him to go on “is a particularly dangerous parasite that lays its eggs on the undersides of leaves and plants for larger creatures to unknowingly consume.”

  The Director made a gagging sound as Paicus looked over at Mrs Clark. She was standing in the tub and clutching the ends of her soaking wet dress, staring panicky at them. “You said he gave you a pill to swallow?” he asked. She nodded. “Greenish, about an inch long?” She nodded again, her face going even paler. Paicus nodded grimly. “I thought so. William, keep going.”

  He swallowed loudly and went on. “Once ingested, the eggs soon hatch and the larva begins to feed on the host. The most insidious part of this process is that the host is usually unaware of their infection, due to the larva blocking all pain signals, hence the name.” William’s voice became more excited as he read faster. “Only in the final stages of growth is the infection visible, when smoke from the transforming larvae begins to leave the host!” He looked up, his face bright. “That’s it, Doctor! That’s what’s inside of her!”

  “Yes, yes, I knew it right off the bat,” Paicus told him. “Of course, I’ve seen it twice before, once on a sailor coming up from the Dutch East Indies, though he was too far gone when he reached me. Still, he left me with quite the extraordinary specimen, I think I still have him stuffed and mounted somewhere…” He trailed off as he noticed the Director and the rest of the doctors staring at him. “Oh, right! Getting it out of her!” He smacked his head.

  “Ah-ah, I’d rather you not cut into me!” Mrs Clark nearly shouted.

  “Oh, don’t be foolish,” Paicus said, waving his hand. “This is the twentieth century! There’s plenty of alternatives.” He snapped his fingers at William and the lad rushed to grab his bag.

  “Absolutely not,” Chief Crayton said suddenly, stepping in front of William. He spoke directly to the Director. “I will not have magic performed in this establishment! This is a modern hospital, dedicated to teaching modern medical practices, not archaic nonsense!” He was almost spitting with rage.

  “Just a moment ago, you were attempting to drown the poor woman,” Paicus reminded them, looking pointedly at Cobb.

  Cobb jumped, going red in the face. “Only partially drawing her!” he corrected nervously.

  Crayton moved closer to the Director, who flinched back. “Director, you can’t allow them to continue with this… this… witchcraft!”

  The Director continued to back away, looking conflicted. “Um, obviously, ah, we can’t allow unapproved medical practices in this hospital,” he stammered. “But, ah, obviously, the care of, ah, the patient must, uh…”

  Paicus placed his hand over his heart. “I can assure you that I will take all necessary precautions. I will save her life.” He looked pointedly at Crayton. “I’m the only one who can at this point.”

  Still looking furious, Crayton pointed. “He doesn’t even have a real medical license! Why must we listen to him?”

  “I have a degree from Rush Medical College,” Paicus told him.

  “An honorary degree!” The Chief jeered. The expression slipped off his face though as he saw Paicus’ eye darken.

  “We are aware of Dr Paicus’, ah, unique medical circumstances,” the Director said suddenly, wringing his hands. He looked between Paicus and Chief Crayton nervously. “Oh, this is a difficult decision,” he fretted.

  “No, it’s not,” Crayton said flatly. “Now that we know what’s wrong with her we can handle the rest ourselves.” He turned and started gesturing to the staff huddled behind him. “Prep an operating room immediately! We’ll perform a full medical exploration of her respiratory system and upper digestive tract! Have triple the ether dose ready, I don’t want her thrashing about once she’s under-” He stopped suddenly as Paicus grabbed his arm. “What do you think you’re doing!?” he hissed.

  Paicus kept his voice lowered so the rest in the room couldn’t hear. “Robert, you can’t perform an extraction on this woman, you wouldn’t even know where to look.” Crayton tried to pull his arm away, but Paicus easily held on. “Don’t let this woman die because of your ego.”

  “Do I have a say in this?” Mrs Clark spoke up.

  “NO!” Paicus and Crayton said together.

  The Director’s head sprang up. “Yes, of course she does! Patients always have a say in their own treatment in this hospital- especially when it could come down to my job!” He clutched at her soaking hands, looking imploringly at her. “Please, ma’am, if you could decide for us? That way, legally, no one could say that we didn’t have your best interests in mind.” He smiled ingratiatingly towards her. “Now, how would you like to be treated?”

  Mrs Clark hesitated, looking from Paicus to Crayton.

  The Chief pulled away from Paicus and straightened his coat carefully. “I promise, madam, that we will take all proper precautions during your surgery-”

  Paicus pulled out his watch again and snapped it open, glancing at the time. “Fifteen minutes,” he said sharply. They all stared at him. “Fifteen minutes, no knives, and not a single cut,” he promised, flexing his fingers. “Well, maybe twenty minutes. I can’t quite draw as fast as I used to.”

  “I choose Paicus,” she said at once, pointing at him.

  Crayton’s jaw dropped suddenly and the Director broke into applause. “Wonderful! I’m glad that’s all sorted now!” he said, wiping his brow. “When can you begin?”

  “Right now,” he nodded, motioning again to William. The young man stumbled forwards with his bag and let it fall heavily onto the table. Paicus quickly undid the rope knots and began rummaging through the bag, removing instruments and setting them down on a nearby stand. Almost unconsciously, several of the staff began to move closer, looking curiously at the silver dials, calipers, and other strange apparatus that he set aside. There was a set of hand-carved obsidian scalpels, so sharp they almost cut the eye, a wooden rack of glass bottles, full of strange, glooping liquids and ointments, a glass dial that seemed to attach to the skin, but whose face had not just numbers, but phrases, such as ‘sanguine’, ‘choleric’, and ‘phlegmatic’.

  Chief Crayton sidled up closer to him. “I’m going to hold you to that,” he promised. He removed his own watch and looked at the time. “You may have fooled her, but not me. ‘Not a single cut’,” he laughed. “Go on then! Show us.”

  “I will,” Paicus told him. He pulled a silver crank from the depths of the bag, much like a hand drill, but with four heads. “Stay if you like, Robert. There was a time when you enjoyed learning from me.”

  The Chief backed away slowly, his face set. “Fifteen minutes to go,” he said grimly.

  Paicus smiled and turned, putting him out of his mind. “Now, Mrs Clark, if you would,” he gestured to the operating table.

  William ran forward to help her up onto the table. “Are you sure this will work, Doctor?” she asked fearfully, allowing herself to be led.

  “Absolutely,” he told her with a broad smile. Then he nodded at William. “Now, tighten those straps please.”

  The room became hushed as William finished strapping her down and Paicus readied himself. He’d removed a small ink bottle and quill from his bag and was now leaning over her stomach, carefully inscribing a ring of symbols about six inches around her navel. His eye was almost skewed shut, his tongue poking slightly out, as he painstakingly drew the delicate, small images. William watched closely, trying to read along with the slanted symbols. Chief Crayton lingered on the edge of the crowd, his arms folded and face furious.

  The Director leaned closer, frowning. “What’s that you're inscribing there?” he asked, shaking his head. “Oh, I was never much good with runes.”

  “It’s the holder runes,” Paicus said, sounding otherwise occupied. He wiped his brow on his sleeve and bent down again, focused. Each rune had to be drawn precisely, not a single edge or curve could even be the slightest bit out of place or the entire formula would fail and be nothing more than artwork. There was no room for sloppy penmanship in rune-crafting. “I need to make sure the spreader’s points don’t slip while we’re working inside.”

  The Director’s eyes widened and Mrs Clark spoke up suddenly. “Um, I feel that, perhaps,” she allowed, “I should have asked a few more questions.”

  “Five minutes left,” Crayton announced loudly.

  “There’s no need to worry, ma’am,” William assured her. “Doctor Paicus is an expert. He knows exactly what he’s doing.”

  She looked fearfully at him. “And what is he going to be doing?”

  He frowned, pursing his lips. “I’m not actually sure,” he said finally. “But whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be very interesting.”

  Her eyes grew wider and she started to squirm. The steam began to hiss out of her ears like a siren. “Doctor Paicus!” she squealed.

  “There now, we’re almost done,” he assured her, laying a comforting, but restraining hand on her stomach. “Don’t move now.” He carefully made four last lines on her stomach, running from her navel to equidistant points on the inscribed circle. As he lifted the quill off the last line, the circle seemed to almost tremble on her skin, flexing as if the ink was alive, then settled. He smiled and put the quill down. “There, hard part’s over,” he announced. William began to applaud quickly, but he stopped as he realized he was the only one.

  Mrs Clark’s head was secured in place with a thick leather strap, but she still tried her best to peer down at her stomach. “What happens now?” she asked.

  “Four minutes now,” Crayton announced.

  Paicus lifted the crank and placed it above her stomach. He spread the four clips out and began to secure them to her skin, clipping each of them to the ends of the lines, starting at her navel. “Now comes the painful part, I’m afraid.”

  Her face lost whatever color was left in it as she stared at the crank above her stomach. “Should I be awake for this?” she asked, almost in a panic.

  He considered it. “Normally no,” he admitted, “but thanks to the parasite, you won’t feel pain in any case, so…” The four clips were now in place, leaning out along the four lines that he had drawn. The lights in the room seemed to dim, or maybe it was that the sigils began to glow with a faint blue light. Everyone, even Crayton, seemed to take a step closer, their breath held.

  “Now we just need to make our entry point,” Paicus said. He turned a knob on the side of the device and a small needle appeared from the bottom of the center rod. It hung poised just an inch above her bare navel.

  “Doctor Paicus!!” she cried.

  “Another pinch now!”

  The needle plunged down and then up, and her whole body seemed to flinch. Mrs Clark let out a huge gasp, her eyes screwed tightly shut, but after a moment, she peaked them open. The needle had retracted back above her skin, with only the very tip dotted with blood, which Paicus quickly swabbed away with a bit of cloth. “Is that it?” she asked, straining to see her stomach.

  A single speck of blood appeared in the middle of her navel, no larger than a pin-prick. Paicus turned the knob again and the needle retracted back, vanishing inside the device. “Yes, that’s it,” he promised.

  Mrs Clark sagged back in relief. “I didn’t feel a thing,” she said, looking like she was ready to faint away.

  “I told you,” Paicus reminded her. “No pain. One of the few benefits to our little friend.” He began to turn the crank laboriously. “And now, we can begin the extraction.”

  Everyone gasped simultaneously. As he turned the crank, the four points of the spreader began to pull apart, and the prick mark in her navel expanded outward, yawning open like a sudden sinkhole. Skin, muscles, and fat seemed to shift away, not tearing, but merely stretching out to make room. The hole continued to grow until it reached the now glowing circle of runes sketched on her stomach. Paicus stopped cranking, standing back and admiring his handiwork. There was now a six inch wide hole in her abdomen, gaping open like a well.

  “What’s going on now?” Mrs Clark asked, struggling to lift her head. “I can’t see, someone tell me!”

  The Director fainted dead away, just simply falling backwards like he’d been shot. The doors in the theater and the balcony flew open as people fled from the room. Chief Crayton stood frozen, his face turning purple. William leaned forwards excitedly, his eyes wide with delight. “Incredible!”

  A faint blue light seemed to shimmer over the opening in her stomach, but behind it was everything that he’d ever studied, stomach, spleen, large and small intestine, all moving and twisting in living color. He leaned in further, his ear was almost pressed to the opening. “I think I hear something moving!” he said, looking up.

  Paicus meanwhile, had removed a heavy leather glove from his bag and was handing it to William. “Here, now, put this on,” he told him. “You’ll have to do the extraction.”

  William blinked, staring at him. “Me?” he asked.

  The Cyclops waved his huge hand, nearly the size of a dinner plate. “Well, I don’t think I’m going to fit.” He lifted the young man’s hands and slapped the glove into them. “There now, nice, delicate surgeon’s hands. Just what we need! But be sure to put that glove on, you don’t want to ruin them,” he advised. “From what I’ve heard, these little things have quite the bite!”

  William still stood there blankly, holding the glove, until Paicus shooed him. “Quickly now! It’s not going to hold forever!” Still numb with shock, William tugged on the glove, it was thick and scarred, with a cuff that went well past his elbow. Trembling slightly, he moved closer to the hole, his eyes enormous.

  “Try and reach up, towards the abdominal cavity,” Paicus advised him, holding the spreader in place. “They usually like to settle in there. Try and feel around with your fingers. It’s a bit like noodling for catfish, have you ever done that?” The young man shook his head quickly. “Nevermind, you’ll pick it up. Oh, and don’t touch the spreader if you can help it.”

  William swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “Of course, sir,” he said, trying to sound enthusiastic, but his hand remained hovering above the hole.

  Mrs Clark was staring at him now, her eyes flying from his hand down to her stomach. She took a sudden breath and began to scream, smoke hissing out her ears.

  Paicus shook his head. “Please, Mrs Clark. This isn’t helping…” She continued to wail however, and he looked at William. He was still frozen, his hand dangling above her.

  “William,” he said, getting the young man’s attention. “It’s just another type of surgery,” he told him.

  “Sir?”

  “This woman needs help,” he said over her wails. “So help her.”

  William stared at him for a moment and then swallowed. He took a breath and then plunged his hand down, reaching deep inside.

  Mrs Clark’s scream cut off, and she made the most peculiar face, her cheeks expanding outwards like she’d suddenly bitten off more than she could chew. The doors flew open again as more of the staff fled the room.

  The Director shook and rose up in a half-stupor. “What’s going on-” he mumbled, then saw William, standing on his tip-toes, with his arm bent inside her. He sank back to the floor again.

  William stared upwards, sweat forming on his brow as he moved his hand around. “I’m not feeling anything yet, sir,” he told Paicus, gasping slightly.

  “Just keep going,” Paicus urged him tensely.

  “St-Stop this!” Chief Crayton seemed to come out of his stupor. “Stop this at once!” He sprang forwards, and Paicus only barely managed to get in front of him before he could lay hands on William. “Keep going!” he shouted to the young man as he wrestled the chief backwards.

  “Let me go!” Crayton yelled, struggling, but he had no more hope of overpowering Paicus than he did for an ox. “I’ll have your job for this!” he promised. “You’ll never work in another hospital in New York! In the entire country!”

  “You were so much easier back when you were a student,” Paicus sighed. He took hold of the struggling man and lifted him off his feet, holding him a few inches off the floor. “We’re almost finished! We just need-”

  There was a sudden snapping sound, much like a mouse-trap going off. Paicus and Crayton froze, looking at William. “I think I found it,” the young man said in a very small voice, his face turning a bit gray. His lips were pinched shut and he gave his fingers a little tug.

  “Are you sure?” Paicus asked.

  William closed his eyes and then opened them. “Pretty sure.”

  Paicus dropped Crayton and clapped his hands. “Excellent!” William stared at him. Below him, Mrs Clark’s cheeks were even wider now, and her face was turning purple. “Now, make sure you’ve got a good grip-”

  “-that won’t be a problem sir,”

  “-and pull it out slowly.”

  William’s face clenched as he started to draw his hand back. The cuff of the glove was soaked and dripping. As he pulled back further, they could see a fleshy, coiled tail wrapped around his wrist. His fingers were almost completely out when he suddenly stopped short. “I think it’s stuck,” he said, tugging harder.

  “Yes, that’s the feelers,” Paicus nodded. Mrs Clark’s eyes were bulging now, almost matching her cheeks. The smoke was beginning to thin around her ears though, dying out now to just a trickle. “Just pull harder, you’ve almost got it.”

  There was a tearing sound and William stumbled back, his hand held aloft. Clutched in his hand was a writhing, worm-like creature, which in turn had its jaws clamped around one of his fingers. It was similar to the illustration in the book, but in much more dripping detail. As it thrashed in his grip, its skin began to sizzle and then smoke began to pour from between his fingers. He held it up in his hand, stunned, and then said the only thing he could think of.

  “Twelve inches, I think, sir,” he said proudly, and then he promptly collapsed on the floor.

  “Well done!” Paicus said, stamping his foot. “You missed the record by seven inches I think, but still, that’s a beauty! Be sure to hold tight now- Oh!”

  The worm had slipped out of William’s grasp and was slithering for the door with amazing speed. “Catch it! Catch it!” Rather than jump in front of it however, the staff and doctors in the room scrambled away, almost scaling the walls in their haste. Paicus started to stamp wildly on the floor, swearing as he lost sight of the smoking critter.

  The Director roused himself again and sat up in a daze. He stared dumbly around, taking in the semi-inert Mrs Clark, laying gasping on the table, the stamping Paicus, and the terrified staff, some still perched on the upper cabinets. “Was it a success?” he asked plaintively.

  Paicus gave up, cursing under his breath in Greek. “Sorry, he got out under the door,” he told the room, walking back. “Dammit, I would’ve really liked to have studied him more closely.” He shook his head. “Well, at least we have a good day or so before he fully matures and sprouts wings. He’ll be a lot harder to catch after that,” he advised the stunned Director as he passed him.

  “Up now, William,” Paicus said, pulling the young man back to his feet. He started to brush him down. “I’ll leave Mrs Clark’s after care to you, I’ve really got to get going, I-” he stopped suddenly as he pulled a brass pocket watch from his pocket and stared at the dial. “I am later than I thought,” he exclaimed. He began to throw his equipment back into his bag in a rush. “I must really be going now- I-” he stopped as he noticed the Director and Chief Crayton staring at him.

  “What?”

  Less than fifteen minutes later, Paicus and William were both leaving the side doors of Brooklyn Hospital, walking through the alley around the building. William was slinking low, feet dragging on the pavement and his chin on his chest, while Paicus guided him forwards.

  “There now, a suspension isn’t so bad,” he advised the young man. “Every young doctor has to stand up one day and make their own decisions, even if that flies in the face of management. I remember the first time I disagreed with Benjamin Rush. He had me polish every pan and instrument till I could see my own eye in them.” He laughed for a moment, then grew serious. “But he respected me for it. You’ll see, when you come back in a few months, they’ll look at you differently.”

  “If they look at me at all,” William moaned. “I’ll be a pariah! Did you see how Chief Crayton was looking at me?” He winced as Paicus suddenly thrust a finger at his chest.

  “Trust me, William,” he told the boy, “Brooklyn Hospital isn’t the be all and end all of medicine. I’ve been suspended from much better hospitals than this place.”

  William rubbed at his chest lightly. “Thank you, sir,” he said wryly. “I’m just sorry that you got suspended as well. I mean-”

  “Terminated,” Paicus corrected him.

  “-you did everything you promised, saved Mrs Clark and they went and–” William blinked. “They what?”

  “I was just fired from this place,” Paicus nodded glumly. He went on a few feet before he noticed William had stopped, staring at him.

  “You were fired,” he asked, stunned.

  Paicus waved a hand in the air. “And glad to be rid of the place,” he promised him, careful to keep his face cheerful. “It’s a long commute from Old Coney. Too long! And it distracts me from what’s important: my clinic! It’s been far too long since I’ve spent any serious time there and Pol is always telling me she needs more help…” He trailed off for a moment and then snapped his fingers.

  “This is the perfect opportunity for you,” he said slowly, a smile growing on his face. The look on his face made William take a step back reflexively. “Didn’t you say you wanted to learn more about Elder medicine?”

  “Uh, yes, in my free time-”

  “Which you’ve got nothing but now,” Paicus beamed. He took hold of William’s arm and started to drag him down the alley towards the main street.

  “Um, well, I-” William stammered, almost yanked off his feet. “It’s just so far away,” he started to protest. “I already live all the way out on Long Island at my sister’s…”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that, I have an old cot in the back, you can stay there.” He laughed aloud.

  They emerged out of the alley onto the Brooklyn street, the morning commuters scattering at the sight of Paicus. Carriages and trolleys rolled by in the muddy thoroughfare, while imps and pigeons rummaged through the gutters and garbage.

  “It’ll be real doctoring experience for you,” Paicus promised him. He thrust out a thumb to the street, causing more than a few taxis to suddenly veer away. “None of this lecture and demonstration, you’ll really have an opportunity to now get your hands dirty. Time one on one with patients! Though one on three or four is much more likely, given our caseload.”

  “I think I’ve had enough of that already, sir,” William moaned softly.

  There was a shout from the street and a large carriage started to pull towards them. “We’ve got to just make one stop first,” Paicus told him. “Very quick! I’ve got to stop by at Maiersons this morning”

  William’s ears pricked up. Paicus noticed and grinned.

  “Come now,” he said. “What morning can’t be made better by a stop at Maiersons?”