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“There is a bean in my pocket,” Rothbart said. “You’ll need to picture my estate…” He faltered briefly, realizing that the only reason she knew what that looked like was because she’d been plotting to kill his family. He cleared his throat and continued in a gruff voice. “Then throw it and the portal should appear.”
Odette nodded, then rooted around in the pocket of his cloak until she found the bean. She lifted it and threw it at the nearest tree. A portal opened, revealing the gates of the large manor. He’d forgotten he’d cast a spell that would keep anyone other than him from traveling beyond the front gates and into the manor. The portal bean had led them to just outside his estate for that reason. No matter.
The girl in his arms moaned, and he looked down at her. Her eyes were hazy, her skin pasty and pale.
“Come,” he said and stepped through the portal, Odette following after him.
Rothbart laid the girl on the desk in his study. She was unmoving except for an occasional twitch followed by a moan.
Odette hovered next to him, her scent of lilies and rain filling his nostrils. “A desk? Really? You don’t have any beds free?”
“If we’re going to have any chance of saving her, then I need to be close to my books as well as her.”
Holding the girl’s hand, Odette muttered calming words. “You’ll be fine, Lina. We’ll find a cure.”
Lina shook her head. “I deserve this,” she groaned. Guilt flashed across Odette’s face, but she didn’t contradict her.
Rothbart pushed his curiosity aside. He didn’t have time for that. Reaching up into his bookshelf, he shoved aside a dust covered amethyst with elegant cerulean swirls, pulled down several large tomes and searched through them. A mention of a cure came up in one of his reference pages, pointing him toward another book. He grabbed it and flipped it open. His stomach dropped. The cure was written in a language Rothbart couldn’t read. Luckily he owned a magical cipher, but it would take time to translate everything. Time he feared they didn’t have.
“Do you know how to write, Odette?” he asked without looking up.
“Of course I do.” Odette seemed offended by the question, even though they both knew there were many in their kingdom who never learned their letters.
“Then I’ll need you to be my scribe while I translate.” He grabbed a parchment from the discarded supplies and set it on the ground with ink and quill, before sitting on the floor and gazing at her expectantly. Odette settled next to him and picked up the quill.
Rothbart first translated the ingredients since they were in list form and he’d recognize right away if the cure was possible based on whether he had all the supplies on hand. He sighed in relief as he rambled out the last item. Everything was on the premises, though he’d have to send someone to the gardens to get a few plants.
A gasp startled him and brought his head up.
Zoya, disguised as the maid, stood in the doorway staring at Lina laying on the desk. Rothbart immediately wanted to yell at her to get the hell out, but with his step-sister disguised so well, only his reaction could give anything away. Besides, he needed her help.
He snatched the parchment out from under Odette and walked over to Zoya. “Ah, Alice, I’m glad you are here,” he said, using Zoya’s fake maid name. “Go to the gardens and gather the plants on the list.”
Zoya continued to stare at Lina as if in a trance.
Rothbart cleared his throat. “Did you hear me, maid?”
She slowly nodded, taking the list. “Get the plants in the garden.”
“Be quick,” he added.
Zoya left with the list while Rothbart grabbed another parchment and sat next to Odette to finish translating the instructions. He hoped they’d be able to prepare the antidote in time to save the girl’s life.
“Please, hurry,” Lina moaned to them.
When they finished, Odette glanced up from her annotations, looking past Rothbart to where Lina lay. Shock flashed in her eyes and she jumped to her feet.
Rothbart followed, spinning around.
The plants that he’d sent Zoya off to retrieve along with the parchment lay discarded on the floor. Zoya, still looking every bit like the maid, was on the desk, straddling Lina, a knife pressed to the injured girl’s throat.
Odette tried to get past Rothbart, but he threw out an arm, blocking her path, giving her his most threatening glare.
“Not a move, swan.”
Impatience flashed in her eyes, and she pointed toward the desk. “Then take care of it, sorcerer.” Somehow she managed to make it sound like his profession was the dirtiest of words.
He turned and took a cautious step toward his sister. “What are you doing, maid?”
