12. Illness
CHAPTER TWELVE
Illness
The ceiling swam into focus above me. I could not move. When I lifted my leg, it sent shards of agony through every inch.
Al’s face blurred before me. His mouth moved, but I could not hear the words. My vision wavered again, and when it refocused, Al and Hester stood beside the cot I slept in every nightfall.
Al took a vial from Hester’s hand. Was it that truth serum he had worked on? He pressed it to my lips, and I kept them sealed. He withdrew it.
“What is that?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Tonic so you’re not hindered by inconvenient human bodily urges.”
When he pressed it against my mouth, I had no choice but to choke it down. Hester replaced Al with my next blink.
“Inch my slippers under the cot,” I begged.
“Okay,” she whispered, and her soft voice faded under the wave of fogginess.
When my vision cleared, Officer Brandt came into view, moving too fast for me to follow. His arms swept under my legs and back. The stone ceiling was all I could see with my head dangling off his arm.
I whimpered.
The stone ceiling changed until light beamed across the surface, illuminating the windowless chamber.
“What is wrong with her?!” Cassiel’s bellow vibrated my breastbone.
“Stay back, or she will suffer the consequences.” Al’s voice reached me, soft and cajoling. “She will need you, and I would rather heighten her chances of survival by handing her to you.”
That was all I was to him: an experiment.
A searing pain wracked my frame, and I turned my face from the light, whimpering.
Officer Brandt’s face flashed, then I lay upon a hard stone floor. I opened my eyes and Cassiel was there, hovering so close to my face that the red of his eyes pulsed into the gold.
I blinked again, the piercing pain dragging me under until darkness took over.
A heaviness rippled through my body, as if every inch had been carved open.
Now that I had experience working with Al, I knew all the organs present in my body.
It seared through my kidney, then traveled upwards until my lungs hurt as if the pain worked through each and every single one.
Still, I could not surrender to unconsciousness. It was as if my mind were captured and pinned in place. I was unsure of how many dawnlight rotations had passed, or if it had been mere breaths since the pain began. Finally, I surfaced, even though the agony was nowhere near gone.
“Alchemist!” Cassiel bellowed. I moaned, the volume of his shout bouncing in my skull.
Cassiel’s face hovered over mine, sweeping his thumb over my cheek in smoothing glides. “Mortal,” he breathed out, relieved, cupping my face. “You blasted girl.”
His exasperation reached through me and roused a bit of strength.
“What happened?” I inhaled harshly, wiggling on the hard surface, struggling for comfort. Cassiel had me stretched out upon his lap.
“You began the Awakening process. Cease writhing,” he ordered.
“She woke?” Hester’s voice whipped my head to the side. I winced, groaning.
“Do not move,” Cassiel chastised.
I breathed through my nose.
Al stood outside the glass cage, while Hester stepped into the compartment. An officer entered and strode to Al where he held the latch to the door.
One side of the glass entrance closed, and the other opened, allowing her inside with us. She carried a basin and approached hesitantly, keeping herself out of Cassiel’s reach.
I lifted my hand out toward her, and her gaze flitted to Cassiel above me.
“Hester,” I croaked, her words echoing in my mind.
“Approach,” Cassiel snarled.
She yelped and ran forward to take my hand. She kept her back straight as an arrow. Cassiel moved his hands up against my shoulders, propping me up.
Hester looked over her shoulder to find Al’s attention on the officer.
“I heard of the next ‘celebration.’” Hester kept her face forward as she spoke. “After you have completely Awakened, there will be a dinner.”
Cassiel’s legs stiffened under me. “That is when we strike,” I said.
“Branwen had a plan to take the poison and place it in the pitchers when the servants bring the pitchers for the festivities,” Hester continued.
My sluggish mind worked. If we managed to escape that eve . . .
“Be ready to leave with only what is on your body.” A cough wracked my frame on the heels of my words, and I tasted blood.
“Speak of this later,” Cassiel said harshly.
“No,” I bunched the front of Hester’s dress and pulled her close to my mouth.
“I have something important for you to bring me, but you must tell no one.” It was best that way.
Her eyes flicked to the side. “It is a book under Branwen’s wardrobe.
” I squeezed her hand hard, more for my sake.
She blurred. Only a bit more and I could give in to the sweltering heat.
“No one can know about it. Find a way to strap it to you.” Her throat bobbed.
“And the journal I left in my drawer—burn it.”
“I understand.” She would not hold still, her glance darting about.
I could see uncertainty flitting across her features. I let her hand go, and she dragged the basin over.
“There are rags, a small water jug, and a loaf of bread. If you need anything else, tell Al, and he will send me with what you need,” she said rushed.
“You are dismissed,” Cassiel said.
I thinned my lips.
Hester straightened to her feet and curtsied. “Yes, my lord.” She retreated to the glass pane and knocked. The surface vibrated.
“What is the glass made of?” I slurred.
“Indestructible material found in Jalixo.”
“That’s another realm.” The dark pulled at me again. Cassiel kept speaking, but it sounded as if he were attempting to speak with his mouth closed.
“Amara!”
I jolted awake. A damp rag rested on my forehead. Cassiel dabbed it on my temple.
“Keep your eyes open. Do not sleep, not yet,” he ordered.
“I must,” I mumbled. “Exhaustion . . .”
“Tell me how we will leave this place.” That phrase came through the fog, and I pried my eyes open. “You have a plan with the feeders.” I hummed and nodded. “Tell me.”
“Just for you to tell me that it is foolish? And to let you handle it?” I croaked. “Your teeth are gritted.” I poked the side of his hard jaw.
“I will not tell you it is foolish.”
I scoffed. “I will only tell you if you agree to my plan.”
His silence prodded me to shut my eyes. I shrugged at his non answer and regretted it as soon as the pain shot through my veins.
“I will follow it,” he bit out harshly. “Now look at me and tell me the plan.” He tucked me against him. It was the only place that I felt any sort of peace.
I hated it.
“I collected a flower that can be turned into poison. I gave them directions on how to turn it lethal.” His eyebrows rose on his forehead. “Hester discovered when we would be gathered with the council again.”
“They will poison them.”
My nod took effort.
“Brilliant mortal,” he murmured, running his thumb across my temple. “And what of the book you mentioned to the feeder?”
I hesitated before speaking, unsure if he would betray me.
“You must learn to trust me.”
“It is pure necessity at this moment.” I didn’t withhold the snap. Cassiel’s mouth flattened. “It is the Lore of Old.” I lowered my voice even more.
Confusion flitted across his features. “The text Vaner shouted about. You have it?”
“Yes,” I breathed. “It mentions the truth,” I stated in simple terms. “I believe it will also tell us how to Awaken Warlords.”
He recoiled, his brows furrowed. A cough rattled in my chest.
“I do not feel well,” I mumbled.
I shoved off his chest to land on my knees before him. Though I heaved again and again, nothing came out. I would not survive a sennight more of this.
“I have you.” Cassiel pressed a damp cloth to my temple.
Cassiel did not release me once.
I detested admitting it, but his touch soothed my torment.