“Very interesting.” She nods, examining my hands.
I’m still strapped to the bed, or else I’d be mighty tempted to wring her bloody neck for calling this “interesting.” Somehow I would find the strength to do that, despite my limbs feeling like liquid.
“The manticore venom had the usual effect, but then… it was like your body began to process it. It caused a lot of stress to your system, and there was a strange reaction from your skin—like the aconite hazed out of you.” She pulls up my sleeves, pinching the skin and nodding.
“Your heart stopped for a while. But then it restarted on its own. And”—she ducks close, peering into my eyes—“I didn’t need to heal you. You’re clear of all effects.”
I shoot upright—or as upright as I can with the straps biting into my wrists. “I’m cured?”
“What? Oh.” She laughs. “No, not that.” Another laugh that makes my fingernails cut into my palms. “The manticore venom. It didn’t work as a cure, but…” She frowns and unbuckles one wrist. “It seems you might be immune to poisons.”
I can’t do anything but stare at her, too exhausted to process, too drained to reply.
She flashes me a smile. “Like I said: interesting.”
I pulled back to the here and now. Take it. I didn’t want anything from that room. I offered the memory to Kaliban and sagged when he swept it out of my mind, even though I didn’t know why I felt so relieved.
“Thank you,” I murmured, scrubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes. Despite the coffee I’d had at the meeting, exhaustion came crashing over me. I could sleep now. And I needed to rush back so Bastian wouldn’t know I’d snuck out.
Kaliban made a low sound. “You should be careful of the Serpent, Kat.”
“Sorry.” I gathered myself. “I didn’t mean to think so loud. I’m just so tired.” But I frowned at him as I processed what he’d said. I thought he might’ve had sympathy for someone else who was disliked by society.
His lips set in a thin line. “Not for him.”
“Bloody hells.” I squeezed my eyes shut. I was used to controlling my actions and my speech—today’s outburst to Lysander being a rare exception. But my thoughts were the only place I got to be free. At least, usually they were.
When I dared to look again, I found Kaliban watching me with a thoughtful frown. “Do you ever let go?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re trying to hold tightly on to your feelings—to yourself. The tighter you squeeze a bird, the quicker it dies.”
Rising, I snorted. “What a cheerful image.”
“So is the image of what that healer has done to you.”
I flinched, folding my arms.
He grunted as I made for the door. “You might want to reconsider pursuing a cure, Kat.”
I paused, hand on the handle. “Why?”
“I can’t keep taking your memories forever. It damages the mind to have gaps.”
I laughed darkly. “You’re telling me.”
Hadn’t I lived half my life with a yawning gap in my memories? The empty space had haunted me, little shards of that night poking through until it had all come back.
What I’d forgotten had haunted me, and now the memory of Elthea’s treatments did the same. I couldn’t win.
44
Kat
Despite Kaliban’s warnings, the next few days were good—great even. My routine resumed. Archery and self-defence with Faolán. Magic training with Ari. What she tried to teach me didn’t work, but I took what Kaliban had shown me with the fire and applied it to whatever was nearby. It calmed my mind and made the stains on my fingers recede. Much better than trying to squash the power down.
It made more sense than his comments about letting go. That sounded a lot like losing control, and the haze had come off me when I’d been utterly out of control. Daily practice with the fire—that seemed my best bet. Maybe this was as good as it got, and I just needed to hold out for a cure.
In the afternoons, I read and took notes, searching for anything that might be related to the Circle of Ash. It shouldn’t matter, but the new bouquet of roses in my room were a rich, deep pink that made me smile every time I saw them. A scrap of something.
Meanwhile, things between me and Bastian were… complicated.
Shocking, I know.
We weren’t arguing. In fact, we were playful and friendly—flirtatious even—but there seemed to be a forcefield around us that neither of us dared cross. We sat on opposite sides of the table in his dining room. We took separate armchairs in the sitting room. He didn’t enter my bedroom and I had yet to see his.
It was all perfectly safe.
Though my body grew tight and empty at once, like I wore an ill-fitting skin.
To combat that, the day before the Solstice, for Ella’s birthday, I arranged a lunchtime poker party, followed by an afternoon theatre trip and dinner at Moonsong Spire. A fun distraction with my friends and no Bastian.
Although he had the afternoon off ahead of a busy Solstice festival, he gave me space and went to Rose and Faolán’s. Meanwhile, I put the finishing touches to our suite and waited for Rose, Ella, Perry, and Ariadne to arrive.
I decorated the space with oversized playing cards and red, white, and black flowers from a florist near Kaliban’s. (I’d also taken the opportunity to drop off food for him and the new tin of shoe polish he’d requested.) I placed the last lemon tart on the cake stand, stirred the jug of fruit punch and stood back.
Too much food for five people.
Probably more decoration than a card party required.
But… I kind of didn’t care.
The frothy white hydrangeas made me smile. The card designs were silly—I’d copied them from the deck of cards we would play with tonight, but I’d added little touches that made the different characters look like people we knew. I hadn’t really thought about it when I’d made Bastian the King of Spades and me the Queen, but…
It still looked good. And tonight, I was going to have fun.
Ella squealed and begged to have the picture showing her as the Queen of Hearts. Perry laughed, especially when she found herself as the Knight of Diamonds. Ariadne cooed over the stack of macarons. And Rose stared at it all, smile the broadest I’d ever seen it.
As we sat with plates piled high with cakes (the best I’d ever eaten) and the golden-brown sausage rolls Rose had brought, Ella cleared her throat. “We need a toast.”
Rose paused with a sandwich halfway to her mouth. At Ella’s nod, she placed it back on her plate.
“We may have both been fooled by someone we trusted…” She held my gaze as her chin dipped, and the gleam in her eye said she was thinking of unCavendish and what he’d done to us both. “But that prick brought us two together, and if not for that, I’d never have met all of you, either.” She turned her smile upon the rest of the table, infecting us each in turn. “To friendships forged in shitty circumstances.”