Caspian skipped on.
Manticore, a magical beast resembling a lion of unusual size with a powerful barbed tail-he sat bolt upright, hunching over the account. -insatiable appetite… quilled fur… cunningnocturnal hunters… lives in hot mountainous and desert environments.Caspian’s brow furrowed. Everything else was right. He shook his head. This had to be it. He skimmed through descriptions of how to recognize, track, and defeat the monster. Then-The manticore’s sting causes confusion, high fever, hemophilia and corruption of the skin. If untreated, the venom will paralyse the heart within a matter of hours. Effects may be delayed with proper sublimentary care for up to two days.
Caspian looked back at Keira and swallowed before reading further.
The manticore’s venom is the primary ingredient required for the antidote…
His eyes danced over the page as it described the exact details for producing the cure.
First was to retrieve the venom. The night was heartlessly cold without the consoling warmth of the sun to temper the chill. His cloak flapped in the wintry breeze as Caspian held his torch aloft.
Finding the manticore’s remains would have been almost impossible if it had not been for the scavengers that had found the body before him. A pack of wolves had taken to feasting on the carcass. Caspian managed to chase them off with threats of fire and only a few warning strikes of his sword.
From there he had removed the final joint of the tail, and followed the cliff line until he saw the beckoning light of their fire. He removed his cloak, which was now covered with snow, and laid it to dry beside Keira’s clothes. She rested as he had left her, her breaths slow and shallow.
Caspian took the stinger in hand. Butchering the thing was a disgusting and precarious process. He had to break through the hard shell without damaging the delicate venom sac within. The smell was unbearable, acidic and putrid. Caspian had to cover his face with his arm as his eyes watered. In the end, he stucka gloved hand into the mess until it closed carefully around the intact gland.
Suppressing a gag, Caspian carried it to the small cook pot he had prepared. It was already filled with simmering water. He removed the glove and tossed it away with the other refuse. It was a waste of fine leather, but after this he’d never wear it again.
Last was the purifying agent. The Toxinomicon had listed many potentials: extract of lily flowers, powdered ram’s horn, a handful of white pearls, or a silver ingot.
Caspian looked down at his hand, the signet ring that he now wore on his smallest finger. The symbol of his house, the bear of Northall, was engraved into the seal. All of it pure silver. He twisted it off his finger and dropped it into the pot.
Now all there was left to do was wait. The text had been unclear how long it would take for the pot to begin to emit a sweet honey like scent. But that would be his marker.
Caspian waited.
The pot boiled.
The winds howled.
Caspian slept.
The venom spread.
Caspian woke with a start as sunlight peeked into the cave. He was upright at once, looking to the pot. The fire was nothing but burning cinders. The water was no longer simmering. Panic surged through him. How long had he been asleep? Had he ruined the process? If he had, what then? This was his only supply of the venom-
The air was thick with a sickly sweet scent, like honey.
It must have undergone the necessary change. Caspian could only fear that it had been overdone.
His attention shifted to where Keira lay across the fire. She wasn’t moving. Caspian watched breathlessly for even the subtle rise and fall of her chest. Nothing.
He was on his feet, at her side, before he could think. The corrupted skin had spread over her chest, the veins marked her cheeks. Her lips were a deathly black. Her once sun kissed skin was sallow and sunken. His mind screamed. He couldn’t think as he studied her still form looking for any sign of hope. Because she just couldn’t be-
Caspian’s hand smoothed back her hair. He cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb against her venom stained lips. A weak breath tickled against his skin. The panic coiled around his heart melted into relief.
He went to work without hesitation. A handful of quills had been laid out on a cloth with care. Caspian took one and carefully punctured the gland. As he removed it, a thick golden liquid seeped from the puncture. He took the treated quill to her. Hesitation stilled his hand for only a moment. What if this didn’t work?
He stuck the quill into the center of the wound before his doubts could get the better of him. It couldn’t possibly make things worse. She was dying.
Caspian leaned back, breath held. He’d done everything he could do. Now she just had to live. Any minute he would see her green eyes again. He would ask her all the questions that he had- Curse him, she didn’t even have to answer him. Keira just needed to live.
He almost fell backward as Keira’s back arched suddenly. Her arms bent at her sides, taut at odd angles.
His blood turned to ice. What had he done?
But then, the black veins began to recede, retreating like so many snakes.
