“We can make it,” she says, more to herself than to them. “That’s not the problem.”
Vren leans back against one of the stone outcroppings, arms crossed, watching her with the kind of patience that comes from a lifetime of waiting for things to go wrong.
“Comforting,” he mutters, a crease forming between his dark brows.
Rubi ignores him.
“The antidote is viable. It makes sense. I can use the dragon’s blood, dilute it enough to use for all of Virellin, and make sure it actually does what we need it to do.” She drags a hand through her hair, frustration sharpening her tone. “But administering it to an entire city? That’s where this falls apart.”
Saana, seated cross-legged near the water’s edge, looks up from the bundle of dried herbs in her lap. She has been quiet until now, listening, watching, a finger looping through the curls of her hair.
“Could we put it in the water?” she asks gently. “Along with the threvenar. Allow it to cannibalize the threvenar before it gets to the people?”
Rubi shakes her head immediately.
“No. Dosage is too unpredictable that way. Too diluted. It could lose potency before it reached the population. And if Ilyra is already using the water to deliver threvenar, we can’t trust it as a delivery method for the antidote.”
Vren huffs a humorless laugh, dragging his hand down his face. “So poisoning the poison won’t work. Good start.”
Rubi shoots him a look but keeps moving.
“Food?” Saana offers, though it sounds more hopeful than viable.
Rubi exhales sharply. “Inconsistent. Not everyone eats. Not at the same time, not the same amounts. And the moment someone realizes something’s off, it’s over.”
“We force it, then,” Vren says bluntly. “Line them up, dose them.”
Rubi stops pacing.
“And start a riot in a starving city?” she snaps. “You want them fighting us while we’re trying to save them?”
Vren shrugs. “Just offering options.”
“Well they’re bad fucking options, Vren.”
Silence settles, heavy and unhelpful.
Rubi presses her palms to her temples, thinking, calculating, discarding possibilities as quickly as they form.
She is born for this. She needs this. If redemption is possible, this is exactly the form it would take. For the first time in days, her hands are steady. Not because the withdrawal has passed, but because her mind finally has something louder than the craving to hold onto.And she needs to leverage that. Because if she can save them—if she can return an entire city to itself—then maybe her life has been more than a long trail of people she could not save.
“There’s no way to reach everyone at once,” she mutters.
Saana watches her for a long moment, head tilting slightly.
“You’re thinking too narrowly.”
Rubi’s hands drop. “I’m thinking realistically.”
“You’re thinking individually,” Saana corrects, her voice still soft, but steadier now. “One person at a time. One dose at a time.”
“That’s how healing works.”
Saana shakes her head. “Not always.”
Vren straightens slightly, interest flickering.
“Go on,” he says.
