Page 82 of Brimstone

“I have.”

He took the cup I handed to him, peering suspiciously at the liquid inside. “I’ve never considered drinking your blood before now, Fisher, but . . . I’ve got to say, I’m pretty fucking excited about this.”

I clinked my cup against his. “You’re welcome, Swift.”

We both downed the concoction and immediately began seizing.

My bones were broken. All of them. They had been badly set, their edges scraping against my flesh. My stomach churned with acid, my eyes burning so badly that I almost wished I was blind.

But Iwasalive.

“Do you ever wake up sometimes . . . and think . . . ‘Gods, wouldn’t it be nice if Ihadn’tjust gone toe-to-toe with a scorpion demon from hell?’ ” Carrion croaked.

“Hah!” I pressed my good hand against my solar plexus, curious to see if the pressure might ease the stabbing pain there. It did not. “More often than I’d like.”

We were sprawled on the floor, lying among the broken glass and destroyed furniture. We’d been here for at least an hour, twitching, and spasming, and foaming at the mouth. The fates must have been feeling particularly vicious today, because we’d been conscious the entire time as the anti-venom had wrought its work.

Slowly, I closed my eyes. “How do you feel?”

“Shitty,” Carrion answered. His voice was stronger now, though. His breathing didn’t sound as labored as it had twenty minutes ago. “You?” he asked.

“Shitty,” I agreed.

“Are you still seeing dead people?”

I took a moment to answer. Then: “No.”

“Me, either.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks. Appreciate that.” He shifted, the sound of broken glass crunching underneath him. “If I lie here for much longer, I’m going to pass out. And I donotwant to pass out here.”

“Me, either.”

Carrion made a pained sound as slowly he dragged himself up into a sitting position and then miraculously up onto his feet. “Come on, then. Let’s go.”

I opened my eyes, and there he was, holding his hand out to me again. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, I let the smuggler help me to my feet. But this time, I was too tired to scowl at him all that much.

“Careful. Last time I was home, there was a bartender in my bed. There’s a good chance she might still be here.” Carrion ducked his head, scooting through the window he’d just jimmied open, disappearing into the darkened room beyond.

I was drenched in sweat. According to Swift, reckoning wasn’t as hot as usual today, but the heat was hellish. Moving through the Third’s deserted streetshadbeen easier, though. The people of Saeris’s ward knew to find shade during the hottest part of the day, when life slowed and those who were smart found a place to rest for a few hours.

I followed Carrion, vaulting through the window and immediately wishing I’d taken it slower, cradling my broken hand to my chest. The rooms were quiet. Still. There wasn’t much by way of furniture within. A chair. A desk. A bed. The kitchen was small, but there were pots stacked, neat and clean on the counter. In the living area, Carrion found a note waiting for him on the rickety table. He plucked it up and read it, then screwed it up into a ball and tossed it into a bucket in the corner of the room.

“The bartender?” I asked.

He huffed a breath of laughter down his nose. “The bartender. I am now officially banned from the Dusty Crab.”

“Shame.”

“I’ll live.” The smuggler grunted. “They do have the best whiskey in the ward, though. Speaking of which . . .” He headed into the kitchen. Cupboard doors squeaked open andthunked closed. When he came back, he was carrying two cut-glass tumblers half full of pale amber liquid. He didn’t ask if I wanted the drink. Even a priest chained tight to his morals would need one after what we’d just gone through. I accepted the glass and threw back the liquor inside, and Swift did the same.

The alcohol burned much like Joshin’s venom, but this time the sensation was self-inflicted, so it didn’t count. I considered the glass, processing the past few hours. We had our silver—bags of it, courtesy of the trunks stowed in the bell tower—but gods above, it had cost us.

“She made that, y’know.”

I looked up.