“I trust you.”
There wasn’t a trace of doubt in my words.
“Bring him back to us,” Azrael chimed in.
Bastien nodded, exhaling once more as he crossed to the table where Lynette lay. His lips moved soundlessly to an incantation, the phial in his hand illuminated, casting long shadows against the far wall that exaggerated his movements. Reaching down, he slid his hand around the nape of her neck, lifting her head gently. Lynette’s pale lips touched the phial, parting slightly to allow the liquid in. Tucking the now empty phial into his shirt pocket, Bastien massaged Lynette’sthroat, keeping her head elevated till he was satisfied that she’d swallowed everything.
The room contracted with anticipation, all eyes on the copper-headed woman. But the steady fall and rise of Lynette’s chest went on unchanged, and Bastien returned to the counter to select the next concoction.
Five rounds we watched as Lynette consumed the required components, each with varying results. My heart nearly leaped out of my chest during the third when Lynette began to cough so violently that Bastien had to roll her over on her side as she vomited a puddle of black bile that bubbled as it hit the floor. Azrael and I quickly mopped up the mess, but Lynette’s slumber continued once the fit subsided.
After the fourth round, her body began to convulse, and it took all three of us to prevent her from thrashing herself off the table. And with the fifth, the convulsions grew still, but her eyes opened wide, their normal emerald green color clouded with obstructions of purest white, as she stared up at the ceiling.
“Well, I suppose that’s progress,” I huffed, releasing my hold on Lynette’s shoulders as her muscles stilled.
“She’s stronger than she looks,” Azrael added, wiping a mixture of sweat and blood from his face where a kick from Lynette had caught him off guard.
Bastien returned to the table, holding the small phial with the corked top that I had helped him with earlier. The poison had retained its acidic green color, the viscous solution inside teeming as he unfastened the stopper. Reenacting his previous methods, he lifted her head from the table, tipping it forward enough to empty the contents into her mouth. The moment the poison hit her tongue, she began to thrash once more, a snarling, wet gasp bursting through a mouth of spitting foam. I pressed down on her shoulders, Azrael seizing her ankles before anotherill-timed kick could render him witless, while Bastien chanted from his notes in a language that buzzed like insects in my ears.
The horrible choking sounds slowed from Lynette as Bastien’s chanting ceased and he staggered back a few steps, resting against the counter. We all watched as Lynette’s thrashing slowed, her breathing becoming sporadic—then ceasing altogether.
No one spoke. Spittle mixed with white foam dripped from the side of Lynette’s slack jaw, her eyes—no longer clouded—stared up at me in glassy defiance.
“Did something go wrong?” Azrael whispered, still frozen in place, holding Lynette to the table by the ankles.
“No,” Bastien breathed. “No, I followed every instruction to the letter.”
Shaking myself from the stupor of shock, I pressed a finger to the side of her neck, allowing my magic to flow into her body in search of a pulse. All I could sense was the echo of silence within her veins.
“She’s dead.”
“What?” Azrael balked, violet eyes shifting over to Bastien. “Can’t you do something? Bring her back?”
Bastien stood, rooted in place, gaze locked on Lynette as he muttered incoherent comforts to himself. He was unraveling, that much was certain. I went to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and ushering him to the other side of the room.
“Bastien,” I spoke softly. “I need you to hear me. Can anything be done?”
He blinked a few times, his golden eyes—now listless and mired with dark circles beneath them—finding me. “I can try. I’ll have to see if I can find her in the Ether. Convince her to stay put till I can figure out what went wrong and if I’ll be able to fix the damage to her body. Gods, what was I thinking, Cirian? I trustedthat lunatic, and look where it’s led me. I’ve killed her.Gods,I’ve fucking killed her?—”
A sputtering gasp resonated through the room.
I reeled back, watching in disbelief as Lynette propped herself up on an elbow, leaning over the side of the table to wretch. To my surprise, it wasn’t the caustic green poison, but instead, more black bile that poured from her mouth, pooling under the table.
Azrael backed away slowly, the three of us standing shoulder-to-shoulder in a shocked daze as Lynette Greene sat up, wiping her mouth on the back of her sleeve, then grimacing at the lacy material.
She opened her mouth, her voice cracked and brittle as desert clay. “Amelia, I presume?”
We nodded in unison.
Lynette managed a broken chuckle that quickly devolved into a raspy cough.
The initial shock having passed, Bastien dashed over to her, nearly slipping on the puddle of ichor as he did so.
“How are you feeling?” he asked in a shaky voice, fumbling through his pockets to procure his notebook and flipping it open to a blank page.
Lynette ignored the question, looking over at the second table where Tobias lay asleep. With a grunt, she swung her legs over the edge of the table, attempting to stand. She let out a pained yelp as her legs gave way under her, collapsing on her side across the stone floor.
I rushed forward, Azrael swinging to the opposite side of her as we helped her back onto the table.
