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“Tomorrow then. Come to me tomorrow.”
“Come to me. I’m Odran’s consort. You’re only his witch.”
“As you wish.”
The pleasant smile faded as Shana glided away. “I can find Odran a dozen of you, ungrateful child. I swear, the babe’s first breath will be your last.”
Once again, the room filled with smoke. And Breen woke.
In the firelight, Keegan sat beside her in bed. Bollocks, front paws on the bed, watched her.
“Tell me.”
“Give me a minute.”
“You weren’t in distress or I’d have tried to wake you, or join you. It was a watching dream.”
“Yeah, but I still need a minute. I know I can’t forget how dark, how evil, how terrible, but maybe I did for a little while.”
“Here.” He held out his hand. An instant later he held a glass of water. “Drink some, take your minute.”
“Thanks.” She sat up, took the water. When she shivered, Keegan waved a hand toward the fire to boost it.
“I saw Yseult in what must be her workshop. She’s not fully recovered, and I—I felt good about that. A year ago, I wouldn’t have beencapable of feeling good about someone—anyone—suffering. But I did.”
“A year ago, you didn’t know of such as Yseult.”
“True.” And the truth wiped away any small sense of guilt. “She’s almost worse than Odran. She was born in the light, trained in the light, and made the deliberate choice to embrace, well, the dark. She was making a potion—a poison. For me.”
“You’re meaning for you, specifically?”
“Yes.” She drank more water. “Very specifically. A year ago, no one plotted to kill me—or I sure as hell didn’t know about it. So there’s that, too.”
“Did you see all she used to make it?”
“I think so. It was venom from one of those horrible snakes.”
“Sleep snakes?”
“Yes. And, God, Keegan, she has cages. Young animals, babies really. And a child. A human child.” She began to cry then, silent tears as she spoke. “He was two or three, and catatonic. She cut him, and I could see scars from where she’d done it before. His blood with the venom, then his tears. A sparrow, very young. She cut it open, took its heart.”
After swiping away tears with the back of her hand, she listed the rest.
“What words did she use? Did you hear them?”
“I heard everything. It was like watching a play onstage, and I was front row center.”
He rolled out of bed to get one of her notepads and a pen.
“You’ll write it down, all the words, as you remember them.”
“Why? It was black magick, and we’d never—”
“Don’t be an eejit. For a blocking spell. We know what she’s done, and we counter it.”
“Oh, like an antidote.”
“No, antidotes come after. We…” Filling the air with impatience, he searched for the word. “Immunity. Do you see? We conjure immunity to this poison.”
