Except his brother. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t care about Gabriel. But I don’t point that out.
“Can you be fixed?” I ask.
“Only our other brother can remove the curse,” Gabriel says, his voice echoing down the hall.
“So why don’t you ask him?”
The Tinman licks his lips. “I would sooner feed myself to a dragon.”
I roll my eyes. “It can’t be that bad!”
“Let’s focus on the water,” he says, turning into the hallway.
“Fine. But… the drug—”
“Tinman!” The witch’s voice reverberates off the stone like a primordial war cry.
A shiver rolls down my spine.
“You’ve been down there too long and I am losing my patience.”
“I’m fucking trying!” he shouts back.
The fire in the iron torches gutters out.
“Shit,” the Tinman mutters.
“What’s happening?” I ask.
“He fucked up,” Gabriel says.
The Tinman makes a choking sound. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I can see him clutching at his throat.
“Is she doing this?” I ask.
“Yes. Get his canteen,” Gabriel says.
I hurry forward, pulling the strap for the canteen over his head.
His eyes bug out. I can only imagine he’s starting to turn blue.
“Now what?”
“Pour the Oil into the cap and help him drink it. It’ll help him combat the magic.”
“Get up here now!” The witch’s voice echoes down the stairwell and through the hall. “Balor!”
There’s a clank of metal as the winged monkey on guard steps away from his post at the entrance.
With shaking fingers, I fill the canteen cap. The Tinman’s hand clasps over mine and together we bring the cap to his mouth.
He drinks back the dark liquid.
“Now that water,” Gabriel whispers.
The Tinman sucks in a breath.
“Empty out the Oil first.”
