I run.
Hitting the rune on my wrist, I shift into my wolf form, using her strength to leap over furniture, her agility to navigate through tight spaces, shifting back into my human form when I need to clamber across the top of several wide sets of drawers that are all pushed together to form a platform she can’t jump over. Then back into my wolf form.
The cobalt-blue vial glints within a trinket box on top of an unassuming table.
I’m only ten paces away from it when pain hits me again, but this time it isn’t Arga. I break into a sweat, my vision blurs, and my stomach heaves. A sudden, sharp ache wracks my insides and I jolt sideways against my will, knocking into a tall cupboard before I drop to the floor.
Forced to shift back into my human form, I find myself curled up into a ball, my arms around my stomach.
Wrenching agony shoots through me.
Oh… fuck…
The poison’s starting to work.
I force myself to crawl forward through the next gap between furniture, horribly aware that if pain makes Arga stronger, the agony of being poisoned will only give him strength.
The table with the trinket box is a few paces away now, but my hands are slick with sweat and I can’t find purchase on the smooth floor with which to pull myself along.
Releasing my claws, I strike them into the marble and use the resistance to drag myself forward. Inch by painstaking inch, leaving a trail of sweat behind.
The world swims as I reach for the tabletop. I just… need to… pull myself up…
The table tips, and the trinket box falls toward the floor. My heart flies into my throat, a final rush of adrenaline giving me the speed I need to catch the vial as it flies from the box—a moment before it would have smashed onto the floor.
My movements have been as quiet as I could make them, but the wooden box shatters against the floor and I sense the silence beyond me when Arga’s heavy footfalls stop.
Will he come for me or continue after Esta?
Breathing heavily, I try to make my hands stop shaking long enough that I can uncork the vial, mentally screaming at myself to hurry.
The cork is stuck so tightly and I’m shaking all over the place, the vial a rattling blur in my swimming vision.
I nearly sob with relief when the cork finally pops off. I lift the vial to my lips, my instincts telling me that the silence beyond me can’t be trusted.
The cool liquid slips down my throat and deep relief fills me when I drain the last drop.
I’m still shaking, but with left-over adrenaline now, as the liquid warms my insides, a softly growing burst of…
I groan.
Sheer and utter bliss.
Damn.It’s more than an antidote. It’s pure happiness. Unless I’m hallucinating. I’m not really sure.
My demon sight bursts with colors, little rainbows forming and fading, while I force myself to count the seconds, trying to ground myself, convincing myself that I haven’t somehow died and I’m not floating off to Stella-Astrum right now.
A piercing scream breaks through the haze within my mind, cutting through the mire as cleanly as a knife.
My senses are suddenly sharp. I recognize Esta’s voice.
She screams again. A cry of agony. Then there’s a crash. The sounds of a struggle.
My eyes widen. I have to help her. If I can stop Arga getting the last vial of antidote, then I’ll not only save Esta, but Arga will meet his end. He’ll be out of the trials. I can stop a future where he controls Mortem, right here, right now.
Leaping to my feet, I stumble a little, my head still light, but I force myself to focus. I need to reach them as fast as possible. Shifting into my wolf form, snarling as Esta’s screams continue to peel throughout the room, I race toward the sound, leaping over furniture, skidding around clocks and under tables.
As I leap over the next cupboard, I finally catch sight of them.
