Page 184 of Harbinger

“I’m more concerned about her.” Bishop strides over to assess Shea.

“It won’t be long,” Hadrian says grimly. “Minutes at most.”

“No,” I finally say so loudly that all three of them startle, remembering that I’m here. “There has to be something we can do. An antidote. Look in your stupid books!”

They can’t just give up on her. She needs to be here for Breccan. She’s so close to being a knight. There’s so much left for her to do.

This can’t be happening.

Hadrian takes off his glasses, his eyes squeezing shut as if he’s running through an inventory of the knowledge he’s collected in this room. But when he speaks, I realize he’s not looking for an answer. He’s trying to find the right words. “That’s why they call bellanotte ‘the assassin’s friend.’ A full dose will kill slowly.” He glances at Bishop, a look of understanding passing between them. “There’s nothing we can do but wait.”

I shake my head, starting toward them, but Bishop catches me. He grips my shoulders. “It will be okay.”

But it won’t be. “We should get her brother,” I say, voice breaking. “He needs to say goodbye.”

Even if it hurts, I know it’s worse when you don’t get to say goodbye.

But when I try to take a step, my knees buckle, the darkness chasing me nearly winning.

“She will be okay,” Bishop says gently but firmly.

“She’s dying!” I try to pull away from him, but he anchors me in place.

“Just tell her,” Taliesin snaps as he lingers by her side.

I look between them. “Tell me what?” I grab hold of Bishop’s shirt. “What is going on? What is this about?”

“She’s a scion. That’s why she came here.” He pauses. “Why I brought her here with her brother.”

“Oh.” It comes out as a breath instead of a word. For a moment, I only stare at him, trying to decide if I want to strangle him or kiss him. Then a laugh bubbles out of me.

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t my—”

“Secret to tell,” I cut him off, rolling my eyes, which does nothing to help my growing headache. “I know. I’ve heard that excuse before.”

He frowns. “It’s not an excuse.”

“I don’t care,” I say, surprised to discover I mean it. I release my grip on his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. I feel almost weak, the relief sapping whatever was holding me together. “As long as she’s going to be okay.”

“She will be, eventually.” But shadows linger in his eyes, as if he’s thinking of his own deaths.

“Is everyone in this house a scion?” I ask with a brittle smile. “Have you left anyone out?”

Bishop’s lip lifts at the corner. “Lenora isn’t.”

“I’m not, as far as I know,” Taliesin says. “Unfortunately, there’s only one way to be sure.”

I snort, afraid an actual laugh will encourage him. “Please refrain from finding out.” I press a finger against my temple, realizing this headache could have been avoided if any of them had trusted me. “You could have told me, you know.”

Still, I can’t muster any real anger this time. All that matters is that Shea will live. That we’re all alive. But, with the danger past us, questions rise in its place. “Why would someone poison her?”

Bishop shrugs. “Vessica is trying to figure that out.”

That’s why he didn’t tell everyone the party was over. Because someone here is responsible for what happened. Dread creeps down the back of my neck.

“Maybe it was one of the other conscripts. A rival?” I suggest. There are plenty of them here tonight. “Someone who doesn’t want her to become a knight.” I’ve seen her fight. She’s hard to beat in the proving grounds, but without a sword …

Taliesin opens his mouth, but before he can speak, Shea’s back arches. Her arms flail, knocking a book off a nearby table. He lunges to pin her shoulders, holding her down as she continues to spasm. Her eyes snap open, her pupils as dark as the Night’s Scar. Then she collapses again.