“You broke your cast. Need a new one?”
I was still puzzled. “No, I… guess I don’t.”
“You know, that’s one thing those moon priestesses can do that I could never figure out. They can make a bone knit in a fraction of the time it should take. They call it magic. But there’s no such thing, is there?”
The weight of this final revelation made me suddenly very tired. I leaned back against the door and closed my eyes. So there it was: I’d known no one when I came to Grand Bruan, and it appeared that was still true.
TWENTY-FIVE
In a little while Kern held up two small bottles. One was open, the other corked and sealed with wax. The liquid inside the open one was clear, the other deep forest green. He said, “You wanted magic? I give you the power to raise the dead.”
I said nothing. I was way past irony.
He shook the bottles so the liquid in them sparkled. “I’ll give this to her now,” he said about the clear one. “The other is for when you want her to come out of it.”
I took the sealed bottle and put it in my jacket’s inner pocket. The nice thing about expensive clothes was that they were loaded with little compartments like that. “And you’re sure this will work?”
He glared at me in annoyance. “Fuck, no. I’ve never done this before. I don’t have a goddamned lifetime’s accumulation of apothecarian knowledge.”
“I was just asking.”
“Well, you got your answer, didn’t you?” he muttered as he put away the various ingredients. He’d been through a lot, too, I reminded myself.
We went back into the cottage. Amelia sat on the bed beside Jenny and held her hand. The stitched wound no longer oozed blood, but Jenny was still bathed in sweat, and her knuckles were white where she gripped Amelia’s hand.
The tall girl stood and pried herself free from Jenny’s grip. Kern knelt beside the bed, touched Jenny’s forehead and neck, then leaned down to listen to her breathing.
Amelia sniffled next to me. I would’ve put my arm around her shoulders to comfort her, but I couldn’t gracefully reach that high.
“Jenny,” Kern said softly. “Can you hear me?”
She opened her eyes and looked wildly around, terror in her face like a little girl’s. I’d never felt so helpless in my life. She said, “My fingers and toes feel like they’re burning.”
“I know,” Kern said. “It’s the poison from the knife that cut you.”
“Am I going to die?” she whimpered. “Please, tell me.”
“I can’t say for certain,” Kern said. “But… probably.”
Her eyes welled with tears. “How soon?” she asked in a tiny voice.
He forced himself to meet her gaze. “I don’t know. But not long.”
She turned her head and cried silently into her pillow. Amelia, also crying, sat on the opposite side of the bed and stroked her hair.
Abruptly Jenny tried to sit up. “I have to see Elliot one last time. Can you send for him?”
“I’ve got a better idea,” I said. “I’ll take you to him.”
She looked at me with the hope of a man in the desert wondering if the oasis is a mirage. “You will? You promise?”
“I promise.” For her sake I managed a no-big-deal smile, as if I took dying women to find their husbands every day and twice on holidays.
Kern handed Amelia the bottle. To Jenny he said, “Drink this. It’ll help you sleep. Amelia will stay with you. And when you wake up, you’ll be with Elliot.”
Amelia put the bottle to Jenny’s lips and she drank it in one swallow. Almost at once her face visibly relaxed, and her heaving chest began to slow down. Her eyes slowly closed.
“I’ll get her dressed,” Amelia said. “You men wait somewhere else.”
Kern nodded toward the door and I followed him out once more, this time into the sitting room. He lit his pipe and took several furious puffs, pacing in the small space like a bull in an outhouse. Once again I found myself backed up to the closed door. Through it I heard Hoel’s continued cries of pain and outrage.
“That little peckerhead son of a bitch Agravaine,” Kern snarled, his words accompanied by blasts of smoke. “They say poison is a woman’s way, did you know that? That’s probably why he used it. Kill them with their own weapon of choice. Even a total stranger.”
“He thought she was the queen,” I said. “He didn’t know about the switch.”
Kern looked up at the ceiling and blew a thin, narrow column of smoke at it. “It didn’t matter. For Dave, if a woman wasn’t on her back or her knees, she was out of line. He killed his own mother, did you know that? Caught her in bed with another man.”
“Another man besides her husband, or besides Agravaine?”
Kern touched his nose to say I’d caught the crucial detail.
“Did he kill her with poison, too?”
“No, he chopped her head off. Medraft used his influence to keep him from hanging for it.” Kern laughed coldly. “It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
I felt the poetic justice of what I’d done to him. “He won’t be hurting any more women.”
Kern looked at me from the corner of his eye. “No, and he won’t give you any more information, either. Think maybe you acted too rashly?”
The roomful of smoke was beginning to mellow me out, and I didn’t want that. “I’ll regret things when I’m your age. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go talk to the survivor for a moment.”
Hoel stopped moaning and glared up at me as I emerged from the cottage. The sun had moved past its zenith, and he was not in the shade. His sweaty skin was pale from blood loss, and his exposed hands were purple. His sword, still stuck in the earth between his legs, reflected a vertical bar of light on his face.
I ignored him, walked a few steps away, and took a long, deep breath. Partly it was to clear out the giggleweed, partly to annoy Hoel. It did both.
“I can’t feel my fingers, you asshole,” he hissed, recovering a bit of his soldier’s bravado. “Loosen the goddamn knots. I’m not telling you squat until you do.”
I took in the scene of pastoral carnage. The two dead men lay where they’d fallen. A crow perched on Agravaine’s chest and pecked at the stump of his neck. The remaining pair of military horses grazed placidly alongside the ones from my wagon. Where the grass was taller, it waved in the gentle breeze.
“You hear me?” Hoel’s struggles made the wagon creak. “I’m a Knight of the goddamn Double Tarn, you can’t intimidate me.”
I picked up Agravaine’s severed head by the hair, with its smashed and ruined face, and plopped it beside the sword in front of Hoel. “Your friend had an attitude with me, too. Look at him now.”
Hoel sneered up at me. “I remember him being taller.”
I slapped him so hard his head slammed against a wheel spoke. Fear mixed with his hatred when he glared back at me. “You’re a big man with someone who can’t fight back. Untie me, then we’ll see how tough you are.”
“I am going to ask you questions,” I said carefully. My chest was so tight with fury the words came out as a wheeze. “Answer them, and you’ll live through this day.”
“And if I don’t?” he sneered mockingly.
I pushed his bruise-colored pinkie back until it snapped. His hands weren’t as numb as he thought. His scream startled a flock of birds from the nearby trees.
“Nine more fingers and ten more toes,” I said. “Plus a mouthful of teeth and a couple of balls. I sure do hope you keep trying not to be intimidated. Now: who sent you here?”
He glanced at the severed head. “Look, we just followed Agravaine. He outranks us, we have to do what he says.”
“Like when you ambushed me in that courtyard at Nodlon?”
Hoel nodded and tried to laugh. “We were just delivering another love poem from General Medraft to the queen, we didn’t even know you’d be there. We just had standing orders that if we saw you again, to make sure you didn’t cause any more trouble.”