Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
A lthea dreamt of the seer again.
‘Remember me,’ the magic wielder whispered into the night as she carved the promise of death into the piece of jade. She had no face. No distinct features. But her voice was a song like a cyren’s call. How many had come before Thea? How many had she handed over to Enovius?
The cold surface of the fate stone pressed into Thea’s palm and she jerked awake with a ragged gasp.
Wren was watching from the bed beside hers.
‘What is it?’ her sister asked, brow furrowed in concern.
Panting, Thea allowed herself a moment to adjust to the dawn light filtering in through the windows and the chill of the crisp morning against her heated skin. The others were still fast asleep.
‘It was nothing,’ she mumbled, her heart still hammering as she released her fate stone, tucking it down the front of her nightgown.
But Wren had seen. ‘You had another nightmare.’
There was no point in arguing. Thea gave a stiff nod, mopping the sweat from her hairline with her sleeve.
‘I really think you should talk to Farissa. She could give you something —’
‘I’m not taking some potion to wipe my mind for sleep,’ Thea snapped. ‘I need to be alert.’
‘Forget I mentioned it,’ Wren replied with a sigh. ‘I just wish you’d confide in someone about it.’
‘You know about it. That’s enough.’
‘Is it? To wear a fate stone… It’s a heavy burden to bear.’
But Thea was done. ‘It’s no burden, but a gift,’ she insisted as she swung her legs from the bed, wincing at the iciness of the floor. ‘To know when you die, is to know how to live, sister.’
‘Well, just remember, it’s not fate until you actually die.’
Thea tugged on her pants and tunic. ‘Noted.’
A groan sounded from the other side of the room. ‘Don’t tell me you two are at each other’s throats already?’ Ida muttered from beneath her pillow.
‘Nothing but sisterly love over here,’ Wren groused as she, too, dragged herself from her bed.
‘Good gods, the world must truly be ending then.’
Thea winked at Wren and tapped the hidden fate stone. ‘Not today.’
If there was one place Thea didn’t want to be that morning, it was the alchemy workshop.
The tasks were tedious and she usually ended up with a fresh burn or cut to her hands.
She felt naked without her dagger in her boot and she was restless, desperate to scour the Bloodwoods for it before it rusted beneath the damp leaves or some nosy shieldbearer discovered it.
‘Shit.’ She drew her hand back from the bunch of wild lavender she was cutting, skin stinging from where the knife had slipped.
‘You don’t pay any attention.’ Wren tossed her a clean cloth to stem the bleeding on her index finger.
‘Because the job is thankless,’ Thea retorted.
Wren’s hands flew to her hips. ‘Do you even know what we’re making right now?’
‘Some sort of potion?’ But Thea said it quietly because, by the looks of things, her sister was about to burst.
‘It’s a tincture for blinding headaches —’
Thea opened her mouth, but Wren’s hand flew up to silence her.
‘Blinding headaches exactly like the ones your library friend gets.’
Malik .
Wren wasn’t done. ‘So you’re telling me this work is thankless , too lowly for the likes of you , even though it eases the suffering of those who made unimaginable sacrifices protecting our realms?’
Thea flushed. ‘No.’
‘Good. Now shut up and don’t cut off any of your fingers.’
A huff of laughter sounded from behind them and Thea was mortified to find Farissa, the Alchemist Master looking over their shoulders, her arms crossed at her chest.
‘I couldn’t have said it better myself.’ She smiled pleasantly. ‘You’d do well to listen to your sister, Thea.’
Thea’s teeth clenched. ‘Yes, Farissa.’
‘I see you are much recovered from yet another bout of nosebleeds… How fortunate.’
Thea shifted from foot to foot, training her gaze once more on the lavender. ‘Yes, very fortunate.’
The Master Alchemist shook her head before turning to Wren. ‘I’d like to see those designs again when you have a moment, Elwren. I trust you brought them?’
Wren nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘I’d ask you to leave your sister to finish the tincture, but we don’t want to poison anyone, do we?’
Wren laughed at this. ‘Definitely not. I’ll see you after.’
‘Gods, you’re a kiss arse,’ Thea muttered as Farissa walked off to one of the other workstations.
‘And you’re as bad as a spoilt child,’ Wren bit back. She gave a sigh. ‘If you weren’t such a pain, I’d show you what I’ve designed. It’s something… Well, it’s something you’d appreciate.’
Thea recognised the note of deviousness in her sister’s voice and when her sister was in that mood, Furies help them all.
Though she was loath to admit it aloud, Wren’s mind was nothing short of brilliant.
She was a born inventor and the spark in her eye told Thea that whatever she’d created was something that was bound to change fates somewhere in the realms.
‘Alright then.’ Thea folded her arms. ‘Let’s have it.’
Wren’s answering grin was villainous. Their spat forgotten, she rummaged through her satchel and pulled out several sheets of parchment, smoothing them out on the workspace before them.
‘Here,’ she said proudly.
Thea frowned, scanning the sketches. ‘A teapot?’ It was artfully drawn; perfectly symmetrical, but then again, her younger sister was exceedingly good at nearly everything she tried. She was infuriating like that.
‘It’s no ordinary teapot…’ Wren smirked. ‘I’m calling it the Ladies’ Luncheon Teapot.’
‘I see,’ Thea replied, though she didn’t. She had no interest in ladies’ luncheons.
But it didn't dissuade Wren, instead she turned to the next page, which featured a more detailed sketch of the interior.
Thea’s eyes narrowed. ‘Two chambers… Why?’
‘One for tea,’ Wren replied, celadon eyes bright. ‘One for poison.’
‘What?’ Thea scoffed. Of all the things she expected to come out of her sister’s mouth, ‘poison’ wasn’t one of them.
‘I’ve been working with Farissa on several minor projects while you’re off having your nosebleeds,’ Wren explained.
‘This was one of my ideas. Each chamber has a hidden hole near the teapot’s handle.
’ Wren pointed to the place on her drawing.
‘To pour a specific drink out, you need to keep the hole connected to the chamber uncovered.’
‘But —’
‘Think about it, Thea. If you were already suspicious of your host, would you not want to see them drink the same drink as you before you took the risk?’
‘Yes…’
‘The drink in each chamber needs to look identical. And the server needs to remember which is which. From there, they need to keep their finger over the spot with the unpoisoned drink in order to poison their foe and over the hole with the poisoned drink if they wish to pour for themself. But to the guest… It appears to be the same, coming from the same place. Do you see?’
Thea stared at the pages in disbelief. ‘How?’
‘I’m starting a working model this afternoon to show the theory.
It’s quite simple: the surface tension and pressure prevent the liquids from pouring out.
By covering the hole, the server prevents air from entering the chamber.
’ Wren touched her hand to the sketch again.
‘This should decrease the surface area of the liquid and prevent it from exiting through the spout. When the server covers the hole with their finger like so, it allows the air’s pressure to hold the liquid in place. ’
Thea gave a slow, disbelieving shake of her head. ‘Impressive, Wren,’ she managed, as she continued to stare at the illustrations.
‘Thank you.’
‘You know… It’s quite a deplorable contraption.’
‘Well, you can’t have every drop of wickedness in the family.’
Thea laughed, finding her sister’s passion infectious. ‘I’m relieved to hear it.’
They worked in amiable quiet for the rest of the hour, making a range of tinctures for the healers and some more nefarious tonics for whom they didn’t know and didn’t ask.
Thus was the work of Thezmarr’s women. Mostly, Thea listened to Wren’s instructions, still marvelling at her sister’s cleverness, and imagining the stealthy missions the Ladies’ Luncheon Teapot would be needed for.
All the while Thea chopped and ground ingredients, she missed the press of her dagger at her ankle, unable to believe she’d been so careless.
Over the course of their shift, she tried to find an opportunity to slip out, but Farissa was watching her like a hawk.
A damn good imitation of Audra, as though she knew Thea had one foot out the door.
To Thea’s dismay, midmeal was brief and again provided no window for escape to duck away to the Bloodwoods.
Feeling bitter, she made her way through the ground floor corridors with Wren, defeat chasing her with every step.
Farissa had gone easy on her for missing the previous day’s shift, but she doubted she would enjoy the same leniency from Audra.
She touched her hand to the scab on her cheek, wishing she’d had the foresight to cover it with Wren’s cosmetics.
Just as they reached the steps to the east tower, harsh laughter rang out from nearby. Thea flexed her fingers, recognising who it belonged to. Where that amusement sounded, no good ever followed. She took a step in its direction.
‘Thea, leave it.’ Wren’s hand was already poised to grab Thea’s arm.
Despite the squirming sensation in her gut, Thea acquiesced. ‘Fine,’ she muttered, making for the stairs.
Six years ago, during one of the defence classes, Thea had requested a more challenging opponent after sparring with a rather unenthused Wren.
Sebastos Barlowe had volunteered to show her what a worthy adversary he would make.
Only, she had landed a blow against him in front of the whole cohort, and sent him staggering sideways.
Although he ended up winning the round, Seb had taken the hit personally.
Thea had tried to make it right, offering to shake his hand at the end, but he’d refused.