She obviously doesn’t see it that way. I force myself to show no fear, even as Roane lets out a broken moan, shifting on the ground, hands clenching.
“Now tell me.” I wince when my voice cracks, and I clear my throat. “Tell me what I need to do.”
She uses her beak to roll the egg toward her. “I can help you cure the poison bite, but not what really ails him.”
“Whatever that means. Tell me!”
She fixes me with a yellow eye. “The hydra’s bite isn’t venomous. Her blood is. He got blood into the wound. If you had sucked out the venom right away… but now you need to get Stymphalians.” A clack of her beak. “They are the antidote.”
“Right! Their… their urine? Was that what Naida had said? Is it supposed to cure all poison?”
“Their tears.”
“Tears?They are birds, how do they even cry? And oh, shit… I’ve turned them into egrets.”
The griffin is staring at me. “Egrets?”
“I turned them into what they used to be before they became metal birds, but what if I could turn them back? Wait, what if I haven’t turned all of them into egrets?”
Talk about a magical gift coming back to bite me in the ass.
“Egret tears will do, too, but if you find another bird able to shed tears for the guardian, that’s also okay,” the griffin says.
“Who would shed tears for him? Can you tell me?—?”
“I have answered your question,” she says. “Now get out of my nest before I tear you to pieces.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
A STUPID PROMISE
ADELINE
“I think she showed remarkable restraint,” Olm remarks as I lift Roane’s head off the rock floor of the nest. His long hair slips through my fingers like water and I have the inexplicable urge to stroke his pale face.
“Shut up, Olm,” I breathe.
“Fine, don’t beg for my opinion later, then,” he grumbles.
“Roane.” I cup his jaw. “Roane, wake up! We have to go.”
He grunts, dark lashes fluttering. “Ellin.”
“Yes, it’s me. Whatever that stupid nickname means. I’m here.”
“Sparrow…” he whispers. “Little sparrow.”
He looks terrible. I press my palm to his brow and find his skin burning. How long has he been like this?
I close my eyes and draw a deep breath. “Roane. Call Simu. We are leaving. If you don’t want me climbing down this wall with you on my back and falling to my death, call your phoenix now!”
For some reason, my threat rouses him. He twists onto his side and sits up. “It’s happening faster than I thought,” he mutters.
“That’s because you hid that wound from us until it festered.” I regain my feet and tug on his arm. “Get up. You can do it.”
He manages, lifting a hand to touch the cave ceiling, though he weaves on his feet. He has to hunch his shoulders to fit inside. It scares me more than I care to admit, seeing him so weak.
I glance at the griffin who hasn’t moved an inch, the scaly egg safely hidden in the nest.
