“How did you even get in here?” I ask after some time.
“Shapeshifting has its perks,” he shrugs. “Tiny spaces, tiny body.”
He opens his mouth to say more, but the sound of footfalls outside the door distracts him. A bright light flares, and once again, I’m seated across from a little white mouse.
One of the twin guards with hair like burnished copper unlocks my cell and drags me down the corridor. Zadyn scurries behind as I am ushered up endless sets of stairs and hallways that open up to a castle so stunning my mouth drops.
Like the diamond cave, every surface of the high arching hall sparkles brilliantly. I gape at the polished blue-white marble floors and pillars, the ceilings lined with diamond chandeliers that dangle overhead with no visible suspensions, the windowed walls that peer out over shadowed hills and black waterways glittering with night. In the distance, I can vaguely make out the twinkling lights of a city in the valleys below. The beauty of my surroundings successfully distracts me until I’m yanked to a stop.
The guard knocks twice on the door before us. “Madame Gnorr, I’ve brought the girl.”
“Send her in,” a voice calls from the other side.
The door opens to a small infirmary. A slight, elderly woman in flowing gray robes turns to face me. Her face is so wrinkled I can barely make out her eyes. She must be athousand years old. Her hair is concealed beneath a matching headpiece, displaying her gently pointed ears.
“Have a seat here, child.” Her voice is warm and inviting as she gestures to one of the clean cots lining the wall. I move toward her wearily while my eyes dart around the room, taking in the shelves full of colorful vials, the stacks of folded linens, and the small wooden work table scattered with scrolls and parchment.
“Privacy, if you please, Sir Maxim,” she says to the guard.
He clears his throat, dipping his head. “I’ll be outside.”
The door closes, and a small silence ensues as the ancient-looking fae assesses me, hands folded in front of her.
“A familiar,” she regards the white mouse at my ankles.
“How did you?—”
She smiles knowingly. “How rare they have become. Treasure that bond.”
I swallow as she turns her back and moves to open a wooden cupboard.
“Are you going to torture me, too?” I finally venture. She whirls to me in surprise, taking in my bloodstained pants.
“No, child. But mark me, I will be having words with the captain about that,” she promises. “My name is Gnorr. I’ve been the king’s healer for fourteen hundred years. Long before King Derek was born. I served his father and his grandfather before him. I am not here to harm you, child. I am only meant to examine.”
“You want to know if I’m a Blackblood.”
She nods. Moving closer to me, she lays a gentle hand on my shoulder prompting me to sit back on the cot. In her other hand, she holds a vial of fizzy blue liquid. She places it in my palm and gives me an encouraging nod.
“Drink.”
“Not unless you tell me what this is,” I protest mildly.
“You will sleep and I will search.” She taps my forehead twice. “Here.”
“I’m not letting you into my mind.” I shake my head.
“I promise to leave everything as I find it.” She smiles, amused, lines crinkling her ancient face.
I dare a glance down at Zadyn.
Can I trust her?
In answer, he zigzags between her skirted legs, weaving between her frail ankles.
Take that as a yes.
I watch her warily as I gulp down the shimmery blue liquid, praying she didn’t just feed me a melted Tide pod. It tastes sickly sweet. Like pears and cough syrup. Before I can form another thought, I’m out cold.
