Montegue sat on the edge of the bed looking down at me. “It wasn’t there,” he whispered.
It had been a few hours. I was already weak and shivering with fever. They had moved me to the bed, but my neck was still chained. They didn’t bother with tying my hands and feet. His healer was busy wrapping my wounds. There was one bite on my forearm, another on my thigh, the pain already unbearable. Banques, Zane, and Garvin stood near the door. They had just returned from the pavilion.
Every word I said was an effort, strained and shaky. “It’s dark,” I gasped. “I promise you it’s there. Unless one of them took it.”
Montegue brushed a strand of hair from my cheek and shook his head. “No one took it. Maybe when I return in a few hours, your tongue will become a little looser.”
 |
I pulled at the shackle around my neck, my fingers desperately feeling the lock. Even if I had something to pick it with, my fingers shook uncontrollably, and then the cramping started. Every few minutes, a violent spasm doubled me over. The room spun, blurred, the floor bobbed. Your tongue will become looser.
It was my greatest fear. What if it did become looser? What if, as I lost a grip on reality, I said things? What if I answered his questions? Told him where Lydia and Nash were? Or where the other vault entrance was? What if I told him Jase was alive?
Practice, Kazi, practice what you will say, no matter how bad the pain becomes.
|
Hours passed. Days. Weeks. Forever. I screamed for them to come back.
My skin flamed. Burned.
My eyes were coals. My lips melted against my teeth. Fire seared my throat.
The iron ring around my neck was molten.
I don’t where they are! I don’t know where— I don’t know! I don’t—
I … I … I …
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And then I broke.
I told them everything they wanted to know. Every practiced word.
The arena.
The stables.
The temple.
Darkcottage.
Cave’s End.
I sent them chasing everywhere.
Until the words were gone, and there was only pain.
|
Zane was suddenly there. My mother was running for the stick in the corner. Where is she? Where is the brat? The seconds, the years, they swirled in a fog. Zane’s face pressed close to mine. No one will believe you now. You would say anything to save your skin. Keep your mouth shut, or I will kill your mother. It will be your fault if she dies. You can still save her. I blinked and he was gone. Gone. I wasn’t sure if he had ever been there at all.
|
Zane, coming back again, and again, his lips touching my ear, whispering my worst nightmares.
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Please. Come back.
Please. Let me die.
But they wouldn’t come back. And they wouldn’t let me die.
|
The blanket was wet beneath me, soaked with my sweat. Cold liquid touched my lips. I felt my tongue again.
The pain rolled back. The fire in my throat cooled.
I heard voices. Faces loomed in front of me, but my eyes wouldn’t focus. A hand gently curled around mine. “It’s Jase. Can you hear me, Kazi? I’m here.”
“Jase?”
“Yes, it’s me. You’re going to be all right, but I need your help. Lydia and Nash are dead. But if I hurry, I can still save them with the stardust. Where is it, Kazi? Tell me. Hurry.”
“No, they can’t be dead. They can’t—”
“It will be all right.” His lips met mine, his tongue exploring my mouth, his hand caressing my cheek. “Just tell me, my love, tell me where it is.”
How does Jase know about the dust? How could he—
Maybe she doesn’t know?
She knows. Never trust anything a thief tells you, not even when they’re delirious.
Garvin’s voice.
The cool liquid spread from my lips to my fingertips. The room stopped spinning.
And then I saw the face looming above mine. It was Montegue.
|
The voices were nightmares now. I couldn’t trust any of them. They pounded in my head.
It’s Jase. Lydia and Nash are dead. Tell me where it is. No one will believe you. You can still save her … Keep your mouth shut or I will kill her.
Tell me where it is.
Something cold trickled down my throat. The pain receded again, and I saw Montegue standing at the end of my bed. He ordered everyone out of the room.
“It’s only been two days since you were bitten,” he said. “You have days of this agony to go.” He held up the glass I had sipped from. “The healer gave you a painkiller. It will only be an hour or so before it wears off and the pain returns.”
He pulled the chair up to the bed and sat down beside me. He took my hand in his. “The antidote would end your suffering for good. Maybe we can—”
“I will never tell you anything, Montegue.” “You will. Trust me, you will.”
And so it went every day. Or maybe it was every few hours. I wasn’t sure. I lost track of light coming through the attic window. Blinding light was always behind my eyes until cold numbing liquid was poured down my throat because they wanted to give me another chance. An hour or two of lucidity and questioning followed, and then I was plunged back into my fiery hell.
|
More cool liquid.
More questions.
But even my moments of lucidity were growing blurry. Every time they brought me back from the brink, I was weaker. All I wanted to do was sleep, fade away in these brief moments of calm. Dream. Hold on to something good. But even sleep was withheld from me. Sometimes Montegue, Banques, and Zane would sit around the room and talk kingdom business, waiting for the medicine to take effect and for my shaking to stop.
It was as if they were keeping a friendly vigil at a deathbed. More chairs were brought in. Sometimes they argued, stealing my peace in these brief pain-free minutes.
They’re grumbling for payment. They’ll get it.
Taste this.
Delicious. Pass the decanter. Two more loads. That’s all.
Why isn’t it done already?
I can only move one load a day without rousing notice.
Finish it. It’s not safe where it is. Too many come and go at the arena.
And they found a squad of murdered scouts in a ruin yesterday. It was a bloody mess. There are still loyalists out there.
You hear that? We need to get it below ground. Do it tomorrow. More wine, Your Majesty?
Include spy as a charge. That will validate our attack when it comes.
Someone throw water in her face. I want her looking at me when I ask questions.
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The healer’s hand shook as she poured more of her medicine into a glass. Another convulsion twisted my body. She leaned close and I heard a faraway voice. Hers? I’m sorry. I have no antidote. I never did. But I do have other poison I could give you. It would finish this for you. They would never know. Nod if you want me to give it to you.
|
Death paced the room, watching me. Impatient.
He walked to the end of my bed and stared, his bony fingers curling around the bedpost, his stare cutting through me, as if he knew what I was thinking. Blink last. Make it one more day.
My shoulders shivered with his chill. I had always thought those were my words, but they were his. They had been his all along. I remembered the
fear that gripped me that long-ago night. His whisper. His challenge for to me to stay alive.
I felt his fear now. Or maybe it was his anger.
Make it one more day.
