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Sitting down at my desk, I begin to write out a list of ingredients I haven’t tried yet on one sheet of paper. On another, I attempt to predict possible outcomes based on what I know from my previous experiments.
By the time I’ve filled out two sheets of parchment, front and back, my eyes are dry, and I can barely focus. I force myself to pull out the few ingredients I have on hand for the next experiments, setting the glass vials on my desk for quick access.
Two blue mountain flowers. Three Nordic Barnacles. Briar heart. One ounce antler dust. Each ingredient is known for its regenerative properties.
Maybe if I combine them all together with the petal, we will be closer to something that will help them. Or maybe it would end in more death and tragedy.
I close off the vials and sit back in my chair, my eyes barely staying open.
If a petal falls later today, I will need to sleep to be able to think quickly. And that isn’t going to happen unless I force myself to go back downstairs to my bed.
That I’m currently sharing with Ulla’s prodigy.
Groaning, I replace the quill pen in its stone holder, organize the parchment on my desk, and stand to stretch.
I quietly slip back down the stairs and into my chambers to see that Zaina still hasn’t moved from her spot on the bed. Her slight frame is hidden under the blankets while Khijhana lays against her back.
Closing the door as quietly as possible, I climb into bed next to the chalyx, hoping that the soft glow streaming in through the window is a lie. That the sun isn’t rising, and that I will have more time to rest before I have to face Zaina and my people once again.
Chapter Twenty
Zaina
The day of my funeral dawns appropriately hazy and cold. My body is stiff from lying so still all night. Every clink of my chain in the dark pulled me back into a dank cell. The scattered moments of sleep I managed to eke out for myself inevitably disappeared in the wake of memories harsher than anything my nightmares could conjure up.
Einar is already dressing for the day. He doesn’t look in my direction or acknowledge me, but the slight tightening of his shoulders is evidence that he realizes I am awake.
He slips his shirt off, every bared inch of skin taunting me before he replaces it with his usual fur tunic. Wordlessly, he disappears into the privy.
I know I have no right to be hurt, let alone angry, that I am being treated exceptionally well for someone in my position.
But I never asked to be in this position.
Maybe I am a coward for wishing I’d died in that cave, but I find myself resentful of each breath I take chained to this bed. Once again, I am out of control of my life while every single person I care about is in danger.
Einar is painfully perfect when he emerges, hair and beard freshly braided and his silver crown resting on his head. He turns to me as though he can feel my gaze on him. His own eyes hold all the warmth of the icicles they resemble, and the same quiet lethality.
He parts his lips to speak, then closes them with a shake of his head, turning to leave. And somehow...somehow, I can’t quite bear him stalking off to my funeral without so much as a word.
“Off to bury me?” I ask.
He angles back toward me, not quite looking at me. “We burn our dead, actually. Frozen ground.”
I swallow, the acrid scent of burning flesh filling my nostrils as surely as if I were back in the cave with the dragon.
“How are you going to manage that without an actual body?” Burying an empty casket was one thing, but this is something else entirely.
Einar’s features go unexpectedly grim, and the answer hits me before he even opens his mouth.Willem.
“YourDamiantook care of that.”
“Damian is notmyanything.” The revulsion is clear in my automatic response. “I am sorry about your friend, though,” I murmur quietly.
He scowls. “You really don’t need to pretend to care about anyone other than yourself, Zaina. I thought we were past lying to one another.”
One of Madame’s favorite forms of torture was a serum injected by needle that would make the victim feel as though their insides were being attacked by angry hornets. Einar’s comment feels a little like that, only this time I am entirely unprepared.
“Well then allow me to say I’m sorry I couldn’t take his place on that pyre. If not for his sake, then for my own.” I let him see the truth of that statement burning in my gaze.
