“But Aurelia isn’t anything like her.”
“Does she use magic?”
I nod. “Yes, but to help people. She makes up spells for the crops to grow in Vernallis and healing potions for the soldiers. She saves rodents from wolves, and wolves from wyvern. She’s—” I can’t think of another word, or way to describe what I’m trying to say. “—she’s everything.”
Amora smiles, but also looks sad. “I’m glad Beatrix raised her that way, unfortunately here, kindness will probably get her killed.”
“I know,” I growl. “That’s why I’m here. She doesn’t have to kill anyone, I’ll do it.”
Amora sighs. “Then for all our sakes I hope your friends hurry.”
Iwake up disoriented. I was having the strangest dream.
I try to hold on to the fading images, reluctant to let them dissolve completely. For just a moment longer, I want to linger in that other world, where nothing hurts and everything makes sense.
Somehow, my eyes open anyway, and awareness returns full force.
I’m lying on an unfamiliar plush bed in a room I don’t recognize. I force my eyes open wider, and blink against golden light streaming through gauzy curtains I’ve never seen before.
“Don’t sit up too fast.” A voice hovers somewhere above me, high-pitched with worry. “Be careful.”
My own face swims into view above me, and I recoil in alarm. For a split second, I think I’m still dreaming, only now it’s turned into a nightmare.
“It’s just me,” Silvia says, her eyebrows pinched together, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “You must be confused. Take a moment to remember.”
My tongue feels like sandpaper against the roof of my mouth. “What... happened?” The words scrape my throat.
“I’m so sorry,” Silvia whispers, frantically twisting her rings around her fingers. “The wine—” She swallows hard. “I keep telling everyone about the assassination attempts, but nobody believes me. My private cellar... I never thought... I should have checked...”
My mouth feels like cotton as I form the words. “Where’s Fox?”
“Still unconscious,” she says quickly. “He must have drunk more than you did. I can take you to check on him in a minute.”
I frown, my foggy brain trying to piece together what she’s saying. We were poisoned, and Fox is still unconscious? That doesn’t seem likely.
I push myself up onto my elbows again. The room tilts.
“Please, lie back!” Silvia’s hands flutter to my shoulders. “Oh Gods, we’ve barely exchanged ten words and now you probably hate me. I’m so sorry, I never wanted anything like this to happen.”
“Where are my things?” I croak.
“The things you arrived with? They’re all here. I had them moved in here in case you wanted anything when you woke up.”
I look past her, and indeed I see my satchel and potions belt resting on a nearby chair. Leaning against the chair is Fox’s sword. My brow furrows.
“My satchel,” I croak, pointing. “Please, can you hand it to me?”
For a second, I think Silvia is going to refuse to give it to me, but I’m wrong. She rushes to retrieve my satchel, and shoves it into my shaking hands.
I fumble with the clasp, and I dig around the bottom of the satchel, before finally closing around a small vial of silver white potion. It’s halfway gone, but better than nothing.
I bring the vial to my lips and drink the last of the healing potion I made from the troll hairs I collected two years ago.
The liquid is so cold it burns all the way down my throat, settling like a block of ice in my stomach.
I take a deep breath, and wait. It doesn’t take long before I feel stronger. The fog lifts from my mind, the pain and fatigue clearing from my body.
“Remarkable,” Silvia whispers, leaning closer to examine my face. “Your eyes—they’re clearing already. Would you consider sharing how you?—”
