The shadow moved on, and Ahnna let a string of curses loose before retrieving her food. James kept up the act, groaning and retching, but hours passed with no sound from above.
Four times, she heard the deafening racket of the cathedrals all ringing their bells on the hour, and doubt that this plan would work began to twist her stomach. Except then the faint sound of singing filled her ears.
A shadow appeared above. “I hear you are singing my name, Your Highness. You must be desperate indeed, for I am no friend of yours.”
“James is sick,” she pleaded. “I think it’s poison. He needs help.”
“This is a well-worn scheme in the Furnace,” the Beast replied. “Try again.”
“It’s no scheme, Carlo.” She stared up, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to see her in the darkness. “What will Mother say if you let him die?”
“James is strong. He will endure. And Mother was clear that neither of you is to be let out.”
“Areyoucontent with that?” she demanded. “Will you be satisfied if James dies in a hole in his own filth? Is that the end you envisioned for him?”
Silence.
Ahnna held her breath, watching Carlo’s shadow. Then he disappeared, his boots making soft thumps as he tracked over to the opening above James’s cell. “Nemesis,” he crooned. “I hear you are not well.”
“Fuck off, Carlo,” James groaned, and Ahnna winced at the filthy scene that he’d had to paint to make this realistic.
“Carlo!” she shouted. “Charcoal! If nothing else, get him charcoal. If he has been poisoned, it can help.”
The prince was no fool. She knew he was considering what schemethey might concoct with anything he gave them, but she also knew that he had dreamed of one last epic fight between him and James. His mother had denied him that, but she might yet change her mind. Except if James died, so too did the Beast’s fantasy.
Come on,she silently willed him, refusing to allow herself to dwell on what he’d said about Katarina meeting with Aren.Fall for it.
“Get the charcoal,” she heard him finally snap. “And I want patrols at night. All of Amarid wants James Ashford dead, so if someone has learned his identity, poison is not a stretch. Have every one of them searched while you are at it.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Ahnna paced back and forth through the tiny space, but then she heard the small thud of a package being dropped and Carlo said, “Eat a spoonful of that, nemesis. You cannot aim to rescue your lady love if you are shitting yourself to death.”
James didn’t respond, only groaned.
“Eat it!” Carlo shouted.
“James, you must eat it,” Ahnna sobbed. “It’s the only thing that might stop the poison.”
“Can’t. Find. It.” James muttered. “Can’t. See.”
Carlo made a noise of exasperation, and there was an argument above between him and the wardens, but then a torch dropped into James’s cell. She watched as James crawled and retrieved the packet of charcoal and ate some of it before slumping to the ground next to the flames.
The Beast’s voice filtered into Ahnna’s cell from above. “Call the warden if he grows worse.”
Her lips parted, but he swiftly said, “I’ve no interest in your thanks, woman.”
“And I have no interest in giving them,” she snapped back. “Don’t stray too far, Beast. When I get out of this place, I’m going to slit your throat.”
Carlo snickered, then disappeared, and as he did, James moved. Hetook the cup Ahnna passed through the opening, lighting the vine wick and then handing it back to her. Ahnna watched it burn down to the oil, holding her breath as it guttered, then steadied. A tiny flame that she prayed to every higher power would last until they were ready.
They could not act that night. Not with the wardens pacing anxiously above, everyone terrified that James might succumb to poison and that the Beast would kill them all as punishment. James moaned and groaned to keep up the pretense, and while he did, Ahnna took the rest of the charcoal and got to work, knowing full well that with her impure sources of ingredients, all this could be for naught.
Dawn came, and Ahnna made certain that everything was out of sight of the wardens as they began their morning rounds.
“Prisoner, approach!”
She stepped beneath the opening, looking up at the woman’s painted face, the warden looking like a terrifying doll from a toy shop of horrors.
