"The apple," she gasped. "It's burning me!"
26
You chose rashly. I've warned you before.
She is far too clever and you underestimate the Sapient.
"It's poisoned!" Finn clambered over the table and grabbed her; she choked, clutching his arms. "Do something!" Gildas shoved him aside. "Get my bag of medicines. Hurry!"
It took him precious seconds to find it, and by the time he got back Gildas had Attia lying on her side, writhing in pain. The Sapient grabbed the bag and tore through it, then pulled the cap off a small vial and held it to her lips. Attia struggled.
"She's choking," Finn muttered, but Gildas only swore, forcing it on her so that she drank it and coughed and convulsed.
Then, with a horrible racking sound she was sick.
"Good," Gildas said quietly. "That's it." He held her tight, his quick fingers feeling her pulse, the clammy skin of her forehead. She was sick again, and then slumped back, her face white and mottled.
"Is it out? Is she all right?"
But Gildas was still frowning. "Too cold," he muttered. "Get a blanket." Then, "Close the door and guard it. If Blaize comes, keep him out."
"Why would he...?"
"The Key, fool boy. He wants the Key. Who else would have done this?"
Attia moaned. She was shivering now, a strange blueness on her lips and under her eyes.
He obeyed, slamming the heavy door.
"Is it out of her?"
"I don't know. I don't think so. It might have entered the bloodstream almost immediately."
Finn stared at him in dismay. Gildas knew about poisons; the women of the Comitatus had been experts, and Gildas had not been above learning from them.
"What else can we do?"
"Nothing."
The door shuddered; it hit Finn on the shoulder and he turned, drawing the sword with one fierce slash. Keiro stood still
"What's ...?" His quick eyes took in the scene. He said, "Poison?"
"Some corrosive." Gildas watched the girl retching and squirming. He stood slowly, resigned. "There is nothing I can do."
"There has to be!" Finn shoved him aside. "I could have eaten that! It could have been me!" He knelt down next to her, trying to lift her, make her easier, but her mutters of pain made him stop. He felt angry and helpless. "We have to do something!"
Gildas crouched by him. His harsh words cut through the moans. "It's acidic, Finn. Her internal system may be already burned, her lips, her throat. It will be over very soon."
Finn looked at Keiro.
"We go," his brother said. "Right now. I've found where he keeps the ship."
"Not without her."
"She's dying." Gildas forced him to look. "Nothing can be done. It would take a miracle and I don't have one."
"So we save ourselves?"
"That's what she'd want."
They had hold of him, but he shrugged them off and knelt by her. She was still and seemed to be barely breathing, the faded bruises clear in her skin. He had seen death, he was used to death, but his whole soul revolted against this, and the shame he had felt at the Maestra's betrayal came back and swept over him like heat, as if it would overwhelm him. He choked back words, knew tears were filling his eyes.
If it would take a miracle, Attia would get one.
He leaped up and turned to Keiro, grabbing at his hands. "A ring. Give me another of the rings."
"Now wait a minute." Keiro jerked back.
"Give it to me!" His voice was a rasp; he raised the sword. "Don't make me use this, Keiro. You'll still have one left."
Keiro was calm. His blue eyes gave one glance at Attia as she curled in agony. Then he stared back. "You think it will work?"
"I don't know! But we can try."
"She's a girl. She's no one."
"One each, you said. I'm giving her mine."
"You've had yours already."
For a moment they faced each other, Gildas watching. Then Keiro tugged one of the rings over his knuckles and looked down at it. Wordless, he threw it at Finn.
Finn caught it, dropped the sword, and grabbed Attia's fingers, pushing the ring on; it was far too big for her, so he held it there, praying under his breath, to Sapphique, to the man whose life was in the ring, to anyone. Gildas crouched beside him, deeply cynical.
"Nothing's happening. What should happen?"
The Sapient scowled. "This is superstition. You yourself scorned it."
"Her breathing. It's slowing."
Gildas felt her pulse, touched the dirty scars where the chains had been. "Finn. Accept it.
There's no ..." He stopped. His fingers tightened, felt again.
"What? What—"
"I thought... The pulse seems stronger ..."
Keiro said, "Then pick her up! Bring her. But let's go!"
Finn threw him the sword, crouched, and picked Attia up.
She was so light, he could carry her easily, though her head lolled against him. Keiro already had the door open and was looking out. "This way. Keep quiet."
He led them out.
They ran up a dusty winding stair to a trapdoor; Keiro flung it back and hauled himself into darkness, dragging Gildas quickly after him. "The girl."
Finn passed her up. Then he looked back.
In the stairwell a strange hum seemed to ripple the air. It rose ominously toward him and he climbed hastily, scrambling up and slamming the trapdoor down. Keiro was wrestling with a grid on the wall, Gildas grasping it with his knotted hands.
Attia's eyes flickered, then opened.
Finn stared. "You should be dead."
She shook her head, speechless.
The grid came off the wall with a rattling crash; behind it he saw a great dark hall, and in the center, tethered to the floor by an iron cable, the silver ship, floating free. They ran, Finn with Attia's arm over his shoulder, tiny figures over the smooth gray floor, vulnerable and exposed, like mice under the wide stare of an owl, because in the roof above them a great screen lit, and as Finn stared up it showed him an eye. Not the tiny red Eyes he knew, but a human eye, gray-irised, magnified enormously, as if it stared into a powerful microscope.
Then the ripple in the air came through the floor and threw them all off their feet, a Prisonquake that made the thin needle of the Sapient's tower vibrate to its top.
Keiro rolled and leaped up. "Over here."
A shimmering rope ladder hung down. Gildas grasped it and began to climb, swaying awkwardly, though Keiro held the end firmly.
Finn said, "Can you get up there?"
"I think so." Attia pushed hair from her face. She was still deathly pale, but the blueness was ebbing. She seemed to be able to breathe.
He looked down at her finger.
The ring was shrunken. A thin brittle hoop, it fractured as she grasped the rope; tiny fragments fell unnoticed. Finn touched one with his foot. It looked like bone. Ancient, dried bone.
Behind them, the trapdoor clanged open. Finn whirled; he felt Keiro hand him back the sword and draw his own.
Together, they faced the dark square of blackness.
"AND SO everything is ready for tomorrow." The Queen placed the last of the papers on the red leather desk and sat back, putting her fingertips together. "The Warden has been so generous. Such a dowry, Claudia. Whole estates, a coffer of jewels, twelve black horses. He must love you very much."