Page 19 of Veil of Web and Ruin

Hastily, I race over. I should have brought a knife with me, something to make cutting off the leaves easier.

As it is, all I’ve got to use are my hands. Idiot!

I grimace, but I’ve no choice. I can’t go through all of this and return empty-handed. Rula’s not the forgiving type. So I cover my fingers with my shirt.

The entire plant is toxic. The last thing I need is to get some in my eyes or even brushed against my skin.

Unfortunately, trying to break off the leaves with fumbling hands is less than straightforward, and though the first handful I snatch is a decent size, I can’t keep hold of it. Over half of it slips to the ground.

Next time I go for less, and this bunch I actually get into the bag.

There’s more than enough for Rula to distil into something potent, maybe even enough that I could keep a leaf or two for myself. Maybe one day I’ll find a way into High Hold again, and I could slip some into King Korvane’s cup or into his lying son’s. These thoughts of vengeance often warm me in the dead of the night. When Ruben’s not there to do the job, that is.

I pull the drawstrings of the bag tightly closed and turn around, ready to leave, only to find my path blocked. Oh fuck.

‘What in the Goddess’s name are you doing?’

Chapter 8

Idon’t know the priestess glaring at me, but her features are hard, and her eyes narrow and angry.

Oh, this is bad.

She huffs. ‘I will not ask you again. In the Goddess’s name, what are you doing here?’

My throat dries and my heart hammers while I fumble for an innocent explanation, but there’s only one priestess I can be taken to who might not see me thrown in jail.

‘I’m here fetching some things for Dinah,’ I blurt.

‘Dinah?’

‘Yes, yes, Sister. She asked me to fetch something.’

The woman looks behind me, searching for the accompanying priestess I should have with me but don’t.

‘Priestess Dinah? What exactly did she ask you to fetch?’

There’s no way I can say hemlock. No one is going to be foolish enough to believe a priestess of the Goddess of Life would want poison.

Pleading ignorance is the only thing I can do. ‘Allium. She … she asked—told me, yes … she said they were white plants. Bushy flowers.’

‘Yes, they are. But those are not alliums,’ she says firmly, pointing at the hemlock plant before glancing at me, eyes trailing down to my hands. ‘You did not pluck any?’ she asks.

‘No,’ I lie easily, shaking my head. I make sure I stay in the shadows and pray she will mistake my white-stripped hair for something else in the darkness, a honey-blonde or even an old woman’s grey.

‘You’re lucky. The sap alone is enough to blister your skin. Allowing you to wander through this garden alone … it’s highly irregular for Dinah, not to mention dangerous.’

‘It’s my fault. I wanted to impress her, so I told her I knew what they looked like,’ I say.

‘Still, it is not right. I will take you to her now.’

I bite down on my bottom lip. Taking me to Dinah. I’ve already seen one more priestess than I wanted to on this trip, and there’s no way Dinah is going to buy a lie about me not knowing what plant is what.

I have no choice but to nod politely and let the priestess guide me to a far corner of the garden.

There, pruning in near darkness, is the priestess who raised my mother – my grandmother in all but name. Her eyes widen at the sight of me and her fellow priestess by my side, but she recovers quickly.

‘Sister Dinah,’ the stern priestess says. ‘I found this young woman wandering the gardens alone. She said you had sent her to find something.’