“Is he tame?”
“I suppose we’ll find out when he wakes up.” I meet his eye. “Thank you for helping me.”
“Of course.” He smiles and reaches out to stroke the sleeping fox along his protruding ribs.
“For a split second I thought you might say no.”
He huffs through his nose. A quick breath. “I wasn’t going to stand in the way of you helping an innocent animal. If it wasn’t clear, I’m not actually the worst person ever.”
His eyes flit from the fox to my face. They’re very intense as he asks, “What are you going to name him?”
I consider a moment. “Dante.” Then I wait with a little apprehension to see if Finn will recognize it. Dante, the name of Elowyn’s fyrehound in legends, who supposedly chased themoon across the sky. Mother taught me how to find him in constellations.
If Finn understands its Elven significance, he gives no sign. He just smiles, settling beside me. Our knees touch, and I shiver.
“For the record…I don’t think you’re the worst person ever,” I say.
He chuckles. “I appreciate that.” Then his voice lowers to a hush. “I don’t want to be like my father. I know more than anyone that he’s done terrible, terrible things. But I want to be different, and better.…I will be better. I promise. And I promise to be honest with you. I’m just asking for you to give me that chance.”
I lie awake for a long while after he leaves. I can’t stop seeing the horrible scene in the Great Hall: the mix of apathy and enjoyment on the faces around me while they watched. I’ve heard the stories; I’ve seen the heads on the wall. I thought I understood Verdish prejudice, in theory. However, seeingtheir hatred—feelingit—is different. For the first time, I realize why Mother was so afraid to let me escape our cottage.
Even with these revelations and a mounting awareness of the very real danger I’m in, I can’t find it in me to go. Maybe it’s foolhardy. But as I listen to the crest and fall of Dante’s breathing, I’m reminded of what brought me here: the last beautiful creature I couldn’t resist saving. Deep inside, I feel some small, blazing kernel of satisfaction, like I’m on the right path somehow, even if I can’t see it all clearly.
I did something good today. Maybe, if I finish the omnidraught, I could do something great. Finn wants to see the world shaped differently, as I do. Maybe I could be a part of that, too.
I can’t give up this life. For the first time, I have a purpose. I have friends.
I havehim.
After a lifetime alone, the prospect of surrendering any of that outweighs all other fears.
he nocturn keeps Dante sedated until about an hour before dawn, when I get abruptly awoken by a small furry assailant pouncing onto my face. A semiconscious scramble ensues, during which I get twisted in the sheets and topple off the bed before realizing I’m not being attacked by a tiny assassin.
Dante retreats to a corner as I untangle myself, rubbing the sore spot on my tailbone where I crashed onto the stone floor. The fox sinks onto his haunches and stares at me while I stand up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “Well,” I grumble, “good morning to you, too.”
He’s ripped off his bandages. When I step toward him, he growls.
“Unbelievable.” I stop, frowning. “You should be thanking me! I saved your life!”
He just blinks at me suspiciously, tail flicking.
I sigh. “Hungry?”
I put my kerchief back on to fetch him some breakfast and take him out to tend to his needs. But when we start to leave, I find a letter slid under my door. It’s from Finn, informing me that he’s been called off again on official business and is unsure when he can return.
I read it carefully before shoving it into my pocket. I’d like to have it with me on what’s sure to be a difficult day. Tonight, I’m supposed to meet with the queen and report on my progress making the omnidraught. After last night’s sadistic display, I might prefer a pleasure swim in shark-infested waters.
Worse than my apprehension, though, is the memory of what I did. Icompletelylost control of my Talent, something I swore I would never do again. Covering my tracks after Finn left took the better part of last night. It’s nothing short of a miracle that my lapse occurred under cover of night, and in private. I don’t even want to consider the alternatives.If I slipped like that in a room full of people…
Dealing with Dante takes much longer than I anticipated, and I’m running late by the time I head to the hospital. I’m not looking forward to explaining my tardiness to Cygnus. But upon arrival, I discover his office empty. After poking around, I determine he’s in surgery with one of the soldiers who was injured in the ambush with Finn. It seems he’s forgotten to assign my chores in the chaos.
On the staging floor, I overhear a pair of nurses gossiping about a fire that broke out in the gardens in the wee hours of the morning. No one was hurt, and the blaze was extinguished quickly, but not before it devoured several trees. Apparently, they recovered a pipe amid the charring. There’s a lively debateabout who it might have belonged to. I listen with a smile, then hurry to the storehouse to prepare for my meeting with the queen.
It takes the better part of the day to compile a list of the ingredients I need sourced to complete the omnidraught. Some, like cliffcrow feathers, I can forage myself. But there’s a long list of specialized items, including unicorn hair and dragon scales, that must be sourced from illegal markets. Though I am not sure if it counts as an illegal market if the Crown’s buying, consideringtheymake the laws.
Fortunately, my meeting with the queen is quicker than expected. When I show her the list of ingredients, she just nods and hands it to one of her soldiers. I hoped I could convince her to let me travel to the quarantine zone for additional research, but she insists there’s no need to leave the palace. Feeling a little miffed, I do my best to smile and thank her for her generosity.
The ingredients arrive with remarkable swiftness.
