“We can make this work.” Granny paced faster now, excitedly rubbing her hands together.
“That’s what I’m thinking.” Trulie circled the table and surveyed the room. “So, you think I need to be found on the floor beside the mess, or should I make a fuss and take to my bed because I feel sick?”
“That’s the problem.” Granny squatted down and scowled at the wet floor. “We don’t know what kind of poison they used, so we have no idea of how it would affect you.”
“Can you smell anything?” Trulie inhaled a deep breath. Nothing smelled suspicious to her.
Granny leaned forward and took a hesitant sniff. She waited a moment, sniffed again, and then shook her head. “No. I can’t make out any kind of smell. It just smells like wet floor to me.”
Trulie picked up a shard of the broken crockery and brought it close to her face. Karma grumbled his disapproval as she touched the tip of her tongue to the damp side of the fired clay.
The taste made her turn and spit. As she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, she noticed her lips were already getting numb. “Yuck. The taste reminds me of old almonds. It’s so bitter the unknowing drinker wouldn’t swallow much and judging by the way my lips already feel, it wouldn’t take much to be effective.”
Granny’s expression darkened into a thoughtful scowl. “Cyanide.” She turned and glared back down at the puddle.
“Cyanide? In the thirteenth century?”
Granny dismissed Trulie’s statement with a wave of her hand. “Organic cyanide has been around for centuries and is easily attainable.”
Seriously? Trulie gingerly dropped the contaminated bit of pottery back to the floor. “How do you know so much about cyanide?”
“That is not important.” Granny’s tone implied Trulie really didn’t want to know how Granny had come by such information. “And since they used that dad-blasted poison, our little charade is going to be a bit more difficult.”
“Fast acting and deadly, huh?”
“I am afraid so,” Granny said. “Especially if mixed strong enough to numb your lips with barely a drop.”
Trulie motioned Karma to the opposite side of the room, snatched a cup from the table, and stretched out on the floor beside the puddle of poison. “Well, maybe we can make them think they didn’t mix it right, so it wouldn’t kill me right away.”
Granny bent over Trulie, spit in her hand, and wiped her wet fingers across Trulie’s cheek.
“Granny! That is just gross!” Trulie cringed, shying away as Granny spit in her hand again.
“You have to look like you were drinking the water when you collapsed. How else am I going to make your face look wet? I can’t use that.” Granny nodded at the poison and reached for Trulie’s face again.
Trulie grabbed Granny’s wrist and held it away from her face. “My face is wet enough. Now just go stir up a panic so we can see how everyone reacts.”
“You know we are going to have to make Gray believe it too,” Granny said as she wiped her hand on her skirt. “He is not going to be happy when he finds out we fooled him.”
“He’ll get over it.” Trulie did her best to assume the most likely position of someone who collapsed from poison. She closed her eyes and motioned toward the door. “I’m ready. Let’s rumble.”
* * *
Gray hitthe door at full force, barreling into the room as the door bounced against the wall with a resounding bang. He didn’t give a damn. All he knew was Granny had sent word that Trulie had collapsed. A knot of fear choked off his air as he pounded into the room.
Karma lashed out like a rabid animal, lunging toward him as he moved closer. Teeth bared and hackles raised, the protective dog stood watch over his mistress. The animal’s reaction fanned Gray’s fear into deeper panic.Lore, dinna let her be dead.Any direction Gray moved, Karma mirrored it.
“Ye must let me pass,” Gray said as he slid his dirk from its sheath in one slow, smooth movement. He would do his best not to hurt the dog, but he would be damned straight to hell before he allowed the animal to prevent him from reaching Trulie. She looked so pale, even the pink of her lips had taken on an odd hue. “Allow me to help her, Karma. Ye ken I willna harm her.”
A softer warning growl clicked deeper in the dog’s throat. Karma hunkered down, ready to pounce as he hesitantly eased back a mere body length away from Trulie.
Every muscle tensed for an attack; Gray slid over to Trulie without breaking eye contact with the dog. He passed the dagger to his left hand, keeping the tip pointed toward the dog as he reached for Trulie with his right.
So cold. Gray pressed his fingers harder against her throat, letting out a relieved breath as a strong, steady heartbeat met his touch. Her pale, clammy skin concerned him. The rise and fall of her chest was too rapid, too shallow to satisfy her need for air.
Gray glanced at the dog one last time as he slid the knife back into its sheath. “Stand down, lad. I mean to place her in her bed.”
Karma relaxed back a step. The dog no longer bared his teeth, but his hackles were still raised. Gray felt the dog’s gaze upon him as he scooped Trulie up into his arms.
