“The powdered boneweed we harvested from the sea cliffs will steady the mind,” Emile said. “But there is no knowing, as I’ve said many times, how it will interact with the sap without testing it.”
“Yet we only gathered enough for this lovely day,” Dilly said, holding out the tray of blood-red vials.
Inu reached out and uncorked one, red smoke lifting as it made a slight hissing noise that made my stomach turn.
“Is it meant to make that sound?” Inu asked.
Dilly shrugged. “I don’t know. No one’s made an antidote before.”
“And you are willing to put our fate in the hands of a doctor with limited knowledge on the subject and a mysteriologist known for running straight into danger if only to further her own knowledge,” Emile said.
I took a vial from Dilly, uncorked it, and drank it down before I could think better of it. It burned and singed my throat like it was made of coal, or maybe it really was made from a dragon’s flame. I swallowed hard, and when I blew out my breath, red smoke emerged with it.
Emille’s eyes widened, but Dilly flashed her white teeth, nearly bouncing on her feet.
“I love it when it does that.” Dilly squealed. “I’ve documented that, nausea, and a mild headache so far as side effects.”
“Delightful,” I murmured, resisting the urge to rub at the burning in my chest. “I have great faith in both you and Dilly, Emille. I would not have even entertained this if I didn’t.”
Emille took a long breath that raised his broad shoulders with the effort as he took a vial of his own.
“The potential visions–you know what you are asking me to risk?” he asked, holding up the vial.
I did.
If the antidote failed, then he would have to witness his wife and daughter dying all over again. That was a fate I was not willing to risk. I believed in him and Dilly. They hadn’t failed me once, and they wouldn’t now.
“This will work, and then we will get them back and not have to do shit like this anymore,” I said.
Emille tilted his head and drank down the elixir. He squeezed his eyes tight as it worked through him, and when he opened them again, there was a sense of clarity there that spoke of resignation, but not surrender.
Inu took her dose, and when the red smoke emerged from her mouth, she was sharpened steel. This was the last time.
The last time.
“Everyone’s been dosed,” Dilly said, tone solemn. “I guess it’s now or never.”
“Getting cold feet, Shaw?” Val said, coming up behind us.
Dilly bounced on her feet and licked her lips, and I wished she had hidden it, but that wasn’t in her nature. She was honest to a fault.
“There is always a risk in the unknown, and it isn’t called the mysterious deep for nothing. I trust my research, and I trust Emille’s expertise, but what we are about to do–I calculated the least potent amount so that the effects will be short-term, but I just don’t know that the people on that ship deserve this.”
I opened my mouth to tell her it was James Allen who started all of this, but she held up her hand to me.
“I know, Rose, but the moment deserves some levity. What we do has consequences,” she said.
“Agreed,” Emille said.
The Bane was quickly approaching, and if we didn’t act, it would be us at the end of a noose. We were vulnerable, locked in place.
“I understand the weight of this, but I have not changed my mind. Five minutes, right? That’s what you estimated at this dose? The tests the Navy ran used more potent doses, and that’s why it was banned? Correct?” I asked, unable to keep the frustration from my voice.
Dilly’s lips pulled down. “Five minutes is not nothing. Imagine watching your family drown or Bash for five minutes. Our hands are still stained, no matter how much damage is mitigated.”
I hated that she was right, and the heavy feeling in my gut had known it was true even before she said it.
“We have to scare them. To make them fear us enough to negotiate.” I said.
