“Good,” the king said, scooping them back into the bag and sliding them into his doublet. “I will examine these further at my leisure.”
“The diamonds are impressive, Your Majesty, but they are not the most precious of the empress’s gifts. This is.” Ash displayed a small ceramic bottle inscribed with runes.
“What is it?” the king asked.
“Living silver,” Ash said. “Very rare, very valuable. Here, let me show you.” Uncorking the bottle, he poured a small amount onto a ceramic plate. It formed small silver globules that rolled around in a mesmerizing way. Ash poked it with his finger and the droplets shimmered and danced.
What the hell is he up to? Lila thought. She craned her neck to get a closer look.
“That’s remarkable,” the king said, looking smitten. “But . . . what is it good for? Can it be molded or hardened like ordinary silver?”
“Not unless it is married with other metals,” Ash said. “But that would be a waste. It is most valued for its magical qualities. When burned or heated, it releases white magic.”
The king was extending his hand toward it, but now he drew back. “White magic?”
“Bear in mind, I’m no expert,” Ash said. “All I know is what I’ve read in the old manuscripts. In the Northern Islands, it is used as a kind of talisman. Its vapors protect against evil. It is particularly abhorrent to snakes, assassins, and other malevolent creatures.”
Fosnaught made the sign of Malthus. “Your Majesty,” he said. “It is the grace of God that protects us against evil. I can’t imagine that the use of such agents would be consistent with—”
“Where was the grace of God when some villain put a viper in my bed?” Montaigne said. He turned back to Ash. “How is it used?”
“Some sprinkle a few drops on a pomander and carry it with them. Others use a small lamp or diffuser and let it burn all night so that the vapors accumulate during sleep. When used in that way, it has been known to cause some irritation to the eyes and throat, but most sources say that it is relatively minor, and well worth it, given the protection it affords.”
Lila had never heard of liquid silver or white magic, but then she didn’t run in magical circles. “Have you heard of that?” she murmured to Destin. He shook his head, frowning.
“Why should we trust you, healer?” General Karn glared at the silver puddle suspiciously. “How do we know that’s not some kind of poison, or black magic?”
“The general is right,” Fosnaught said, looking thrilled to have an ally. “Here in Arden, we have used sorcery in very careful, tightly controlled ways to the glory and in the service of the great saint. It is best not to proceed too quickly down this road lest we go astray.”
“I understand, Father Fosnaught. These days one can’t be too careful.” Ash carefully scooped the living silver back into the bottle, restoppered it, and slid it inside his carry bag. “Is there anything else you wanted me to clear, Your Majesty?”
“Not so fast,” Montaigne said, putting up a hand and giving Ash a narrow-eyed look. “You want the living silver for yourself—admit it, Freeman.”
Ash wet his lips. “I only thought that, since you would rather not risk it, that I would—”
“Do you think I’m a fool?”
Ash hastily dug out the bottle and held it out to the king. “Please. Take it. I never meant to presume that—”
“If you think it’s safe, then why don’t you demonstrate for all of us,” General Karn said.
Blood and bones, Lila thought. Now the princeling has backed himself into a corner, and there’s no way to get him out. But she had to try, even if it meant taking her life in her hands.
“Your Majesty,” Lila said, hoping to change the subject. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but before Lieutenant Karn and I go, I wondered if you might want to choose a new talisman from this old flash collection.”
Irritation flickered across the king’s face. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Well, since people say that old flash is the best, so—”
“I’m happy with what I have,” Montaigne said, waving her away and turning back to Ash. “Well, healer? The general makes a good point.”
“He does, Your Majesty,” Ash said. “I am happy to oblige.” He picked up the bottle, uncorked it, tipped back his head, and sipped. His lips were silvered when he lowered the bottle. They all stared as he pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and blotted it away. “I don’t recommend drinking it, as it’s not the best use of a precious element. But, as you can see, it is perfectly safe.”
The king smiled. “I am convinced, healer. And therefore, I will keep the empress’s gift for myself.”
“As you wish.” Ash bowed. “Careful,” he warned, “it’s heavier than you think.” He put the bottle into the king of Arden’s hands.
32
A LITTLE BAD JUDGMENT