Page 18 of Veil of Web and Ruin

My bag slips around to the side of me again, and I curse as I shift it more squarely onto my back.

What kind of person breaks into a Goddess’s temple garden? Not someone who wants Etta’s favour, that’s for sure.

As much as the woman at the tavern gave me the creeps, I did fold her cloak and place it safely by the drain before I ventured into the muck so that I could return it to her in decent condition.

That’s assuming I don’t get caught.

I’m not sure what the punishment would be for sneaking into the Goddess’s Garden, but when you consider that nobody would do it for an altruistic, harmless reason, combined withmyfamily’s chequered past … I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be offered leniency.

As much as I hate this revolting crawl through the sewers – and I really do hate it – at least it’s giving me time to think. To plan how to do this, to think about the hemlock, where it’s likely to be, and how to get in and out of there as quickly as possible. There are several other poisons that would do the job and kill the man who has done Rula wrong, but she was specific about wanting it to leave no trace.

In some ways, I have to admire her, given that knights would never care enough about the death of some slum murderer to bother working out the cause, but I understand her desire for secrecy. No one wants a target on their back, and maybe it’s not the knights and Gods she’s worried about, but the bastard’s family or friends.

I turn my thoughts back to the poisons. Anything that acts too slowly will lead to suspicion of poisoning, and I don’t want him to start frothing at the mouth or vomiting. Foxglove’s out, too, as he’d see green and yellow haloes in his vision before it took effect. All the victim would have to do is tell somebody and a bit of digging around would undoubtedly lead to the cause.

Rula was right; my best bet is water hemlock. It’s so fast he won’t even know what hit him, let alone have time to seek help. Hopefully, the fact that it likes waterlogged environments means I’m likely to find it close to the drains. Maybe I won’t even have to stray too deep into the garden.

If the Goddess of Life is watching, she already knows why I’m here. And if Etta lets me take the hemlock, then I know I have her acceptance, if not her blessing.

I keep moving, crawling through the mostly frozen slurry, keeping careful note as the pipes twist and turn to ensure I’m still heading in the direction of the garden.

Every so often, there are grates above that allow me a glimpse of the starry sky. To start with, these grates show very little, but it doesn’t take long before I’m under the temple itself. I can hear the patter of feet above me, the muffled talking and prayers of worshippers. This would be a perfect vantage point to spy from, that’s for sure. A great way to listen in on other people’s libations and desires, though I have neither the time nor inclination for that. Each person’s wish is their own. Who am I to judge? Life has taught me I am nobody.

My hands are growing numb, and my lungs are struggling with the lack of fresh air. I’m desperate to cough and retch, but I strain against my stomach muscles. A misplaced cough in a quiet moment and I will be discovered.

A little way above me I can see light filtering through that is somehow different. More muted. Evening light, perhaps? If that’s the case, then I will soon be back outside on the other side of the temple and in the garden. I quicken my pace until I reach a ladder and climb up, gulping a breath of fresh air with pure relief. I hang there for a moment, just grateful to be free of the stench. I listen, and when I’m sure I’m alone, I push open the grate and step out of the sewer.

All I can do is stand and stare. The garden is truly spectacular, even lit only by moonlight. A massive expanse, a field almost, it’s carefully curated. Is it any wonder my mother loved the place so much? Having the ability to control plants and growing up with this garden must have been intoxicating. I know from my own visits here as a child how it felt to have all that power and those resources at your fingertips, and my magic had barely even begun to settle. My mother had years to harness her skills in these surroundings. No doubt it was a boon to the priestesses, too, I think cynically.

As I stand there, noting the viscous layer of mud – at least I’m desperately hoping it’s mud – coating my shoes, I curse the fact that I don’t have my mother’s notebook with me.

Even here, at the edge of it all, I can already see there are so many things in this garden that I’ve never seen before, so many I’m sure I could use to make tonics that would earn Kay and me so much more money, if I were to take something extra.

I close my eyes. No. It’s not worth the risk.

I’m here for Rula, and for Kay, not to become a common thief, which means taking the one thing I need and leaving the rest. Even if every step causes me to eye the foliage with envy.

Scanning the area around me, I try to work out the planting pattern. My mother once told me about the garden’s layout, how all the plants that adore the sun are straight in the centre so that they aren’t affected by the looming shadows as the sun rises and falls. But water hemlock isn’t one of those, meaning it’s likely to be near one of the walls – but which?

I bite my lip as I consider where to go next. Hemlock is a fast-acting poison, so even though the garden is suitably protected against thieves and intruders, no one in their right mind would place something like that where it could be easily accessed. Which means I probably need to move deeper in.

Some of these plants are over six feet high, and even the smaller plants are so dense it’s difficult to see through so many leaves. I know I’m looking for a plant with white blossoms, but no such luck there.

I bite my lip. Maybe itwouldhave been wiser to come earlier in the day. Sure, there are a couple of torches on the wall, illuminating bits of the garden, but it’s nothing like daylight. Not only that, but the torches give off a yellow hue, which tinges almost everything.

As I begin to feel panic rise, my eyes adjust to the light and fall upon a cluster of the lightest-coloured blossoms I’ve seen so far.

I head towards the first one, only to realise from several feet away that it is some kind of allium. When I spot another, it looks like some form of dogwood.

As I head towards a third, muttered words catch my attention.Shit!

Immediately stilling, I peer between the bushes to see two priestesses in their cloaks talking as they make their way towards me. Hurriedly, I duck down into a plant.

Please don’t let it be poisonous, I pray to Etta as my skin brushes up against it. That would be a disaster. Not only would I not be getting Kay a job, but I’d be killing myself in the process.

I stay down, with my breath held and form low, until the pair pass. I wait a moment longer still, just to ensure they’re not glancing back, then scramble to my feet.

Moments later, I spot bright white nestled nearby. My heart skips. It’s hemlock.