I squinted. They looked familiar, but I couldn’t tell why.
“Yes, Mr. Nelson?” The older one folded his arms, light reflected from Castiel’s wings playing across his pale face and ruddy cheeks. The other man was shorter and bulkier, with tight black curls and deep brown skin. My mouth dropped open. They were footmen from Lord Fallon’s home. I barely recognized them outside their livery. What did they have to do with this?
But the elder ignored them, instead locking eyes with Castiel. “I had some information to give you.” Then he snapped his fingers at me. “Lilith, pour us wine.”
I moved on instinct, obeying him like I had for nearly twenty years. My chilled fingers gripped the pitcher’s handle while Castiel drifted near and picked up the first piece of paper.
“What are these?”
Elder Nelson stayed where he was, glancing around the dome with interest. “No leaks. That’s good.”
“The iron is well made,” Castiel replied absently.
I handed Elder Nelson the first cup, only a third of the way full with the deep red wine. When I handed the second to Castiel, my hand trembled.
Castiel took the cup from me, his fingers brushing mine. I nearly dropped the cup at the bolt of energy that passed between us.
“To beginnings and prosperity.” Elder Nelson raised his cup. “And blessings from Lord Erlik, of course.”
Castiel straightened, giving the elder his attention. He mimicked the gesture and took a long swig of the drink.
Before I had turned to set the pitcher back on the table, he let out a gasp.
“Wha-wha-what?” The words came out half formed and strangled, as if his throat was closing over to smother him.
I stared, aghast.
Castiel stumbled, hand going to his throat. His eyes bulged and his face reddened.
“Castiel!” I started toward him, hands outstretched.
He choked, and blood poured from his mouth. His lips and teeth stained red. He retched, and all the wine he’d just drunk erupted. It splashed on the hem of my dress, staining it dark as the blood on his lips.
“Do something!” I spun to beseech the elder.
He stared, impassive, at the horrific scene playing out before him. “I’m not sure what I could do, dear.” His eyes finally moved away from Castiel to meet me, and the flat, uncaring expression sent chills down my spine.
I hurried to Castiel’s side, dropping to the ground.
He was on his knees now, his wings stretched behind him. Long, primary feathers lay on the cold ground.
“It’s going to be fine,” I assured, though my heart galloped and my lungs seized. I put one hand on his shoulder, the other on his cheek.
He coughed again, and red spittle flew from his mouth. His eyes rolled to meet mine. “S-s-s,” he struggled to say.
“Don’t speak,” I soothed. “I’ll find a physician. We’ll get you help.”
Seeing this mighty being brought low terrified me. It was wrong, so utterly perverse, like a piece of nature violating the laws of the universe. My mind unraveled with horrifying possibilities.
“Sa-salt.” His throat constricted, and he could speak no more.
I gasped. “Salt? You drank saltwater?” I stared at the ground soaking up the red drink. Then, glaring up at the footmen, I shouted, “Go! Get help!”
They shuffled their feet, looking at the elder behind me.
Castiel wheezed, clutching at my hand.
“What is it?” I asked.
