The restless warriors fall silent at once.
“How can we trust you when you tell such fantastical stories, queenling?” Orsa demands, staring pointedly at Valoria.
She holds Orsa’s gaze, keeping a gentle smile on her face despite the insult. “It shouldn’t be too hard. I’ve already given you my trust.” She nods to me, Jax, and Simeon. “I sent three of my best friends onto your ship. And I’m here. You could slit my throat right now if you chose.”
Orsa’s lip curls. “So? All my warriors would gladly die for me on an enemy ship as well. And I would be there, too, fighting beside them. Now, give me a real reason to trust you, or you’ll have to watch—watch your friends die before I kill...” She doubles over as another coughing fit squeezes all the air from her chest.
A murmur of concern ripples through Orsa’s warriors as she chokes and gasps, dropping to her knees. Someone rushes forward toassist her, offering a handkerchief that quickly turns from ivory to a deep purple when held to Orsa’s mouth.
“We have a cure for the sickness that ails you,” Valoria says coolly, unruffled by the threats. “We don’t have enough for everyone yet, but if you give us time to take back Karthia from my brother’s army, we’ll be able to make plenty. And as a token of our goodwill, we’ll give this ship what little we have of the cure right now.”
“You have my attention, queenling,” Orsa chokes out, still breathing heavily from the coughing spell.
Valoria turns back to theParadiseand signals to Azelie, who begins making her way across the bridge between ships with a dancer’s grace, several glass vials clutched in her fingers. If she’s nervous, it doesn’t show. It’s only when she’s standing beside me that I notice the liquid inside the vials sloshing around slightly thanks to her hands shaking.
I can’t imagine what it must be costing her, facing the warriors who’ve been battling her people and not being able to retaliate. I don’t think I could stand as still as she is, or offer to save their lives if they’d already wounded Karthia the way they have Sarral.
Orsa nods to the fair-haired woman on her left, who appears to be some sort of commander, judging by the sun-shaped pin on her leather vest and the extra array of tattoos on her face and hands. She steps forward to accept the vials from Azelie, who takes care not to let her skin brush the Ezoran woman’s in the slightest. Once the cure is out of her hands, Azelie releases a breath and balls her hands into fists at her sides.
I put a hand on her back, lending my silent support. I just hope she’s saved at least one vial back on theParadisefor all of us who might have been exposed here.
“Now, who’s going to test this for me?” Orsa demands.
Several of her warriors volunteer at once, but Orsa’s gaze remains leveled at me and my friends. “All five of you will drink it at once, while we watch,” she says firmly.
The commander uncorks a vial and wafts it under our noses, surveying us calmly.
“If this is poison, we’re going to kill every last Karthian and take the whole kingdom for ourselves,” Orsa snarls, returning her gaze to Valoria as she drinks deeply.
“I’ve already told you,” Valoria replies steadily, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, “that there’s an army of spirits inside metal bodies murdering my subjects. We don’t need any more enemies. There was a time when it might have been in my best interest to poison you, but what we need now are allies.” Nodding toward a warrior with black goo on his hands, she adds, “And since you’re all sick, and your only hope of survival is our cure, it would seem we need each other.”
Azelie gives me an encouraging nod as the commander presses the vial to my lips. I take a small, hesitant sip, remembering the bitterness of other potions. This one, despite the liquid’s grayish appearance, tastes surprisingly sweet.
“This unique combination of herbs and flowers purifies the blood,” Azelie says before it’s her turn to drink. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Orsa falls victim to another coughing fit as Jax and Simeon take their sips from the vial.
“They should show signs of any type of poisoning within a few hours,” the commander tells Orsa, tossing the empty vial aside. It shatters on the deck, glittering like diamonds. “I’ll monitor them, and if they still look healthy at the end of the third hour, we’ll try this cure.”
So we wait, the silence on the ship broken only by the occasional cough, listening to the wind rippling in the sails overhead. The commander walks back and forth in front of the five of us, peering closely at our faces for signs that we’re taking ill.
My thoughts wander back to Meredy, to home, and to all the lives we could be losing at this very moment thanks to Hadrien.
A drop of sweat beads on my neck and trickles partway down my spine.
Somewhere in the distance, gulls cry, having strayed too far from home.
Finally, the commander nods, satisfied, and begins distributing the cure among her people, saving an entire vial for Orsa alone.
The Exalted One lifts the glass to her blackened lips, tosses her head back, and downs the liquid inside in one long gulp. “I don’t feel any different,” she mutters, narrowing her beautiful eyes at Azelie.
“That’s because it doesn’t work instantly,” she huffs, crossing her arms. “This is medicine, not magic.”
Orsa considers her for a moment, then nods and returns her gaze to Valoria. “If your cure works, we’ll have a deal. Food and land for peace,” she grits out, her words ending with a cough. “And if not, we’ll board your pathetic excuse for a ship at sundown...” She pauses for a labored breath, during which I swear I can hear Kasmira spitting a curse at her. “...and kill every last one of you. Slowly.”
XXXIII
With the threat hanging over us, we’re free to return to theParadise.
