My mistress nods. The comedown has begun, the colors of the world darker, the air damper. I reach out my hand, she takes it, and together we stand. We hobble around the perimeter of the Illusion courtyards until finally we reach her chambers.
Once the doors are locked, Kassandra rips off the gloves covering her debt rings and I kick off my boots. We collapse on the ground, bodies sweaty, hearts pounding. I glance over at my panting mistress. She grins back at me, face flushed.
“One day, we will get them both,” she promises.
“For now, we can enjoy them turning on each other.”
“As they have tried to do with us so many times.” Kassandra stretches out a tattooed arm. I clutch her wrist, and we lie there, reeling in our advantage and debt and hope.
“What is this feeling?” she wonders. “I like it on you.”
I let my emotions flood around us. “Victory.”
“Victory,” she repeats. “It smells like a garden.”
A few minutes later, the vomiting starts, black bile surging up our throats. It does not stop for hours.
Chapter Fifty
Dappled sunlight filters through theoffice, the smell of ink and paper filling my nose. It has been a few days since what the Nest now calls the Silver Slaughter—Dominik’s massacre and his crippling. At first, Kassandra and I spent each waking hour in silence, drinking to numb the itching before passing out in various places. Only once did I arise to find my arms around her before rolling off the settee, face hot and heart heavy. She didn’t stir until her meetings began, and they have not stopped. After tending to Briar, I headed to House of Healing.
I approach the grand beveled desk as Eli leans back in his chair.
“Kassandra’s note said it was urgent. How can I help?” he asks.
“First, we would like more pain tonic sent to Briar.”
“Of course.”
I pull out a letter stamped with a wax seal. “As you know, Lady Kassandra has been indisposed in meetings with members of Illusion. I have instructions from her to act as a valet and deliver your response to her directly. She has given permission for me to negotiate on her behalf.”
Eli takes the letter from my hands and breaks the seal, reading.
“As you know, both her brother and father are unavailable, leaving her temporary head of House,” I say, then add, “With theapproval of the other Illusion families. Their responses came in today by raven.”
“Go on.”
“The Head of Illusion would like to know more about what this is and why she hasn’t heard of it before.” Digging into my pockets, I pull out a small leather pouch and toss it onto the desk. Eli unties the leather strap and peers inside. The black powder.
“I see.” He takes off his spectacles, rubbing his face. “Do you know where your mistress acquired this?”
I stare at him pointedly.
“Right, of course you couldn’t tell me even if you knew.”
“If it’s any consolation, my oaths to Illusion and Healing would ensure that the truth remains unknown.”
“It’s called Ashent. My father originally developed it as a cure for Molders.”
“But only faeries are Molders.”
He sighs again, looking away. “Because they do not know of the cure. And even if they did, they could not afford it.”
I frown. So, being magically mute is not just a faerie disease. No, the High Fae simply jump-start their magic again with this drug.How many High Fae advantages are just manufactured?
To say this to the Head of Healing would be treasonous. “You said originally? What is Ashent used for now?”
“My cousin oversees its production at our base in Remiti. She’s the Healing advisor and believes that it could be the key to a stronger kingdom. A way to help High Fae, faeries, and Molders alike.”
