I cross back to the desk as quickly as I can. I lower my body, baring my ankle from beneath my ancient nightgown and stretching my toes until they contact the handle of a drawer.
Then I throw myself backwards towards the bed, snatching the drawer out and back as far as I can.
It’s the elixir drawer, I realize as I hear the sound of glass clinking. There are several brown bottles within it, not just the cologne Seth used earlier.
I rush back to search the drawer. Nothing has broken, thank the gods, but I don’t know what I’m going to do with these unlabeled elixirs. They could be anything. Even opening them to smell them and identify them might be dangerous.
I pick up the first bottle, the one I’m fairly certain is the cologne, and I notice a small piece of paper adhered to the bottom.
Essence of bergamotis scrawled in tiny script.
Of course Seth would label them. I pick through the bottles as quickly as I can: silphium, reduction of willow bark, lemon balm, aloe. Healing remedies and contraceptives. I open the silphium and give it a whiff to verify it’s correctly labeled, and it smellsexactly as I expect it to: sweet and vaguely herbal, like licorice. I take a swig of it and replace the bottle.
I’m ready to give up and try the next drawer when I notice the bottom of the drawer moves when I reach near the back. I press on the wood, and it gives a little, almost as if there were something beneath it.
I reach along the sides until I feel the clasp. The false bottom of the drawer releases, lifting to reveal a compartment underneath.
This is where he keeps the good stuff. A highly potent gin, oil of cannabion, tincture of belladonna, and a potion simply labeled “Sleep.” I skip the intoxicants and the deadly poison. Putting the servant girl to sleep ought to be enough. I creep back to the cot and slip the sleep elixir under my pillow.
Then, carefully, I replace the hidden compartment and push the drawer back to its opening. I pull down on the front with my toes to lever it upwards, freezing as the bottles roll forward. But nothing breaks, and I manage to maneuver my other foot to push until the drawer wedges back into its slot.
Then, using my arms on the ground for leverage, I kick it back with both feet until it shuts. It makes a loud slamming sound, which I cover by rushing back to the cot with my chains, taking a seat so quickly I nearly lose the sleep potion from under my pillow.
But I catch it just before it falls and slip it back into the pillowcase, lying down just as I hear the pounding of footsteps outside the tent.
The flap flies open, and a young guard in full armor enters. “Everything alright in here?”
His eyes survey the room fearfully, relaxing only when he sees me in bed.
“Fine,” I say, glancing at the desk to make sure it appears undisturbed.
Fuck. There’s a bottle I missed on the ground. It must have blended in with a dark patch on the rug.
The guard turns to where I was looking, and he’s going to see the bottle if he steps any closer. I have the sleep elixir, but I’ll need to sneak up on him to use it, which is impossible given that he’s watching me closely as he approaches.
“Can you send the servant girl? I’m having an issue. Aladyissue,” I say, looking down meaningfully into my lap.
It isn’t true and won’t be for a couple more weeks, thankfully, but he doesn’t need to know that.
The guard halts abruptly, his young face blanching. “Right. Right away, ma’am.”
I breathe a sigh of relief as he backs out of the tent. This is my chance. If he sends in the servant girl alone, I can get out of here.
I’ll take her uniform and put her into the bed in my place. Then I should be able to move around the camp without notice, at least until morning. If I can find my way to a boat, I can steal Octavia’s idea and use the shadows to conceal my movements.
My hand slips into the pillowcase and retrieves the sleep elixir, uncorking it and stoppering it with my thumb. I’m not sure if this is the type that can be inhaled or if I’ll need to force her to drink it. I hope it’s the former.
It takes a moment, but she finally enters carrying fresh linens, a washbasin, and another ancient nightgown. “Sorry to hear that you’re feeling poorly, ma’am,” she says. She fills the washbasin on the floor with her water magic. “It always happens at the worst times.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” I say, and she smiles at me. Just a little closer.
“Let’s get you cleaned up then,” she says, reaching for the key in her pocket to release my chains. I’ll let her open the right shackle, and then I’ll shove the elixir in her face. If she doesn’t collapse, I’ll drop my shadow and pour it in her mouth beforeshe can react. I hold out my right arm first, keeping my left arm with the vial concealed under the sheets.
She unlocks the clasp, completely unsuspecting. She’s muttering about how cold it is out and how she’ll need to heat the water on the fire, and I’m grateful I went for the sleep elixir, not the belladonna.
She reaches for my left hand. “I’m sorry,” I say, but just before I shove the elixir in her face, I feel something stir in my chest.
My shadows. The physical ones; they’re here. Which means—
