She’s eyeing the egg and I don’t know if I can trust her not to cleave me in two, now we’re already in her nest, and grab her baby. In her shoes, I’d do it.
But she pulls back. “Ask, then. What do you wish to know?”
“I was wondering?—”
“Fuck,” Roane says.
“What is it?” I ask as a fine tremor goes through the cave.Shit.Quake. Not the best place to be if the rock starts crumbling. “Roane?—”
He gets up—then drops to one knee, blinking. His face has gone gray. “What the fuck is…? I can’t…”
“Roane! What’s wrong?”
“Poison,” the griffin says. “I can smell it on him. Hydra venom.”
Hydra. The fight in the river. He said he hadn’t been hurt.
Gods, he lied.Again. And I can’t even muster any anger, all the space in my head taken up by worry and fear as he falls back on his ass and sprawls, his head hitting the nest piled with eggs.
“That’s where you found the hydra poison you killed the metal birds with. I should have guessed, though, how did you know the story?” I crawl over to him. “Where? Where is the wound?”
His hand trails over his hip and cursing inwardly, I unlace his pants with shaky fingers and pull them down.
The wound is a deep cut, its edges dark. His flesh is hot there, but otherwise his skin is cold and clammy.
“Will the venom antidote be enough?” I whisper to myself. “Or is there an infection, too? It doesn’t look good.”
“The egg,” the griffin hisses. “Give it to me.”
“Wait… wait. How can I cure him?”
“Is that your question?”
“Aline,” Roane breathes. “No…”
“Is that your question, human?” The griffin insists. “Is that what you want in exchange for my egg, you nasty little thief?”
Suddenly, there is no doubt in my mind. “Yes. Yes! How do I cure him? Venom, infection and all. Tell me.”
“Put the egg down in front of you,” the griffin says, “and I will tell you.”
“Aline,” Roane breathes, “don’t. It won’t help. This isn’t the solution.”
But he looks like he’s standing on death’s doorstep and I’m not letting him cross over. He may not want me around, but I care for him, helpless to erase my feelings.
Sitting back on my heels, I take the egg out of the sling. Heavy. Whole. Perfect. I place it carefully in front of me, between the griffin and myself.
Gods, am I making a mistake? Will she kick me out of the nest and not answer? Keep Roane to eat as supper?
“Probably,” Olm says. “You’re a crazy girl. I wish I’d known that before deciding to go with you.”
I don’t have the mind space to unpack his statement and give it the answer it deserves.
Bile rises in my throat as I wait for the griffin to make her move. I’m showing trust.
After I stole her egg.
After she kidnapped me.
