Theodore started down the stairs, towing me behind him. “Eusia will find a way to get her to the water, Imogen—likely bit by bit.”
When we reached the first landing, I heard a quick and shrill scream echo from up above.
Then only the clamorous scuttling and scraping of insects remained.
25
Theodore
The sunlight cut like blades after the darkness of the Mage Seer’s tower.
My guards hurried us through Della’s packed streets, and we made it back to theEleuthiosjust as it was being loaded with provisions. We would cast off before sunset, and if the weather was fair, it would be nearly a week before we reached Obelia, though the Obelian Sea was known for its rough waters and coarse winds.
Trepidation had stitched itself through me with needle-sharp efficiency, the thread pulled so tightly through my body that I couldn’t bring myself to sit. I leaned against my stateroom door, arms crossed, while the sinking sun washed the room in sleepy, warm light. It haloed the scattered waves of Imogen’s long hair in amber.
She sat on the settee with Agatha, wearing a new gown, green with soft pink flowers, that brought out a rosy flush in her cheeks. It made me picture her sprawled in one of my gardens, blooms pressed against her golden skin. The two of them looked through the many parcels of dresses and underclothes and sleep things Agatha and Lach had collected.
Imogen’s smile was full and bright, lighting her eyes as she drewher fingers over the frill of a skirt, then the little bag that matched it. Soft regard filled her gaze as she watched Agatha.
The past weeks had been agony. One harrowing moment engulfing the next, to the point that neither woman had been able to mourn the least of their tragedies: that they’d lost their home, their belongings, and any semblance of the life that they’d fought so hard to build for themselves, as imperfect as it may have been.
I forced a breath into my tight chest and cursed quietly. Helplessness pressed in on all sides, as did my sneaking suspicion that the plan we’d all agreed upon—to have Agatha perform the killing spell—was doomed to fail.
Their conversation turned quiet and serious. Imogen was now flipping through the book on draughts, while Agatha riffled through the little collection of vials we’d stolen from the Mage Seer. Imogen’s finger traced a passage as she bit at her bottom lip. Despite my state, I nearly walked over to her and took that lip between my own teeth instead.
“Theo,” Imogen said without looking up from the book. “How long do you plan on brooding?”
“I’m not brood—”
“You are.” She met my gaze then, her look as intense as the slanting sun at her back, and gave a harsh look. “I know you’re worried. But this is the best plan we have—” She shook her head. “It’s theonlyone.”
I dropped my arms. “I know. The problem is—”
A knock came. I crossed to unlatch the door and there stood Lachlan, holding up a rusted cage with a large black rat inside.
“Oh fucking Gods.” I stepped aside, pinching the bridge of my nose. It had been my suggestion that we get the draughts, that we perform both a spell and a severance, but I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming unease as we took steps toward enacting the plan.
Agatha was still gray-tinged. I suspected she did her best to hide it from Imogen, but I knew the signs of trauma and fatigue. I could feel the periodic speeding of her heart when she was near. And Lachlan had shared his concern over how little she ate.
Agatha straightened herself on the settee, making herself look prepared, but her pulse suddenly thundered. “Your Majesty,” she said, “If I’m meant to perform the spell successfully, I need something to practice on.”
Lachlan’s jaw was close to snapping as he set the caged rat on the low table before the settee. Our eyes held briefly, before he stepped back and crossed his arms. “I’d like to make it known that I hate this.”
Agatha blew out a fast breath. “We spoke about this.”
“Right, and that conversation did nothing at all to change my feelings,” Lachlan said, irritably.
Agatha’s fist struck her knee. “You are the only one here objecting, Lachlan. Stop it and let me do this. Ineedto do this.”
Tentatively, I cleared my throat. “Well, I—” I snapped my mouth shut at Imogen’s and Agatha’s twin glares. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d felt conquered, and being caught in the line of their combined scorn was one of them. I knew, however, that remaining silent would be far worse for us all.
I gulped audibly. “Agatha is not well enough to perform this spell.”
Agatha flushed with fury, but something sparked in Imogen’s eyes. Some concern that I’d perhaps just soothed.
“Did you put him up to this?” Agatha asked Lachlan, voice blistering and sharp.
Lachlan swiped a hand down his face. “No. He simply sees the truth, Agatha. You need to rest. Not to perform—”
