Page 58 of Once the Skies Fade (Immortal Reveries #2)

Chapter 58

Matthias

T hat meal had certainly been uncomfortable, but that compared little to the tension coursing through the air when the advisor cut Isa off. Isa noticeably fought to keep her features calm, though it wasn’t hard to recognize the fury burning in her eyes, whitening her knuckles as she clenched her fists.

“What do you mean changed ?” Isa demanded, pushing to her feet. “What did you do?”

Korben’s gaze darted between the two females. He sunk lower in his seat as if expecting them to throw punches any moment now. Graham, however, had his eyes locked on Calla.

Calla’s hand started to tremble as she lowered her wine back down onto the table. “Isa,” she said weakly, and her general spun around and leaned over.

“Calla, look at me,” she said, gingerly lifting the queen’s chin when she didn’t comply, but Calla’s eyes had already glazed over, turning distant and unseeing.

“What did you do, Ursula?” Isa growled, not taking her attention away from Calla, whose head began to sway from one side to the other until Isa cupped her cheeks with both hands. “Calla, are you okay?”

Ursula’s harsh voice cut through the thick air. “The Assembly decided to amend your third trial, General Marlowe.”

Isa’s eyes widened in horror, her face slashing around toward the Assembly members. “You had no right!”

Ursula shrugged. “Regardless, what’s done is done. The trial remains the same; the only change is who drank the poison.”

Poison? Fuck.

My focus shifted back to Calla, her face still cradled in Isa’s hands, but her eyelids blinked lazily, her lips forming silent words. On the table her hands fell open, her shadows flashing erratically in her palms like a monster trying to break loose. Then she stilled, and my heart fell into my stomach like a lead weight, cold and heavy.

“Calla! Calla!” Isa called out to her friend, gently tapping her cheeks, squeezing her hands, shifting her head, anything to try to rouse her. Angling her chin over her shoulder, she screamed at the Assembly. “Why would you do this?”

None of them answered. Even the sweet-looking Fern remained quiet, though she at least seemed somewhat uncomfortable with what they’d just done. Their silence was met by a deadly glower from Graham whose panic—while less obvious than Isa’s—was evident.

“What were you thinking?” He hissed the question at Ursula, but then swung his gaze across all of the advisors. “Whose fucking idea was this? And the rest of you just went along with it? You spineless?—”

“It was a collective decision,” Warren said in an irritatingly calm tone. Graham tensed, leaning forward suddenly as if he’d been about to lunge across the table at him.

“I bet,” Graham muttered, though he relented and slowly returned to his seat.

My muscles itched to leap up from my seat, grab Calla, and somehow save her, but they’d said they’d only changed one piece of the trial. All I had to do was win the trial. Win and save her.

Drawing in a deep breath to calm my nerves, I called out to Isa. She didn’t look at me, didn’t respond, so I said her name a little louder. Surprisingly—and rather uncharacteristically—Korben reached a hand out and tapped her on the back. Jerking around, she stopped short when she found me staring intently at her.

“What is the third trial? What do we need to do?” I asked as coolly as I could with Calla’s head lying limply in Isa’s hands.

At first, I thought she wasn’t going to respond, or maybe she hadn’t heard me through the fog of panicked grief, because she slowly turned back to Calla without a word. A hush fell over the room as she laid Calla’s head against the back of her chair and folded her hands in her lap. Isa’s own hands shook as she turned back to the rest of us, not looking at anyone in particular when she spoke.

“This trial was—is—to test wisdom,” she said. Her voice came out much weaker than usual. Slowly she brought her eyes up to mine, her distant gaze slowly finding its focus as she spoke. “Use whatever knowledge, prowess, and experience you possess to determine which of the four glasses in front of you contains the antidote to the poison.”

“And who was to be poisoned originally?” Phillip asked.

I leaned over to him and said—loudly enough for everyone to hear—“Us, I assume.”

Ursula clapped her hands once, a wicked smile spreading across her lips. “Perfect display of that wisdom we want to see, General Orelian.”

“Yes, it was to be you four,” Isa admitted more shamefully than seemed necessary. “You were to choose one—and only one —of the four glasses and see if it was the antidote. The first one to find the correct glass would win.”

“And what if we chose wrong?” I asked. “Would you just leave us to die?”

“No, you all would have been administered the antidote before you died.”

“And now—” I started, but Ursula finished my sentence for me.

“You must choose one—and only one—from your four, to see if it cures the queen. Before she dies.”

“Is this the same poison used on Matthias?” Phillip asked.

Warren released an obnoxiously loud sigh. “How many questions do you usually let them ask before a trial, General Marlowe?”

Isa shot him an icy glare. “As many as I damn well please, Warren.” She turned abruptly to Phillip. “It is similar, but not exactly the same—assuming the Assembly hasn’t changed that part of this trial as well, that is. The four cordial glasses are in no particular order, to prevent you from learning anything by watching your competition.”

I glanced at Calla, hoping to the damned stars that it was similar enough to the poison Korben had used on me. At least then I could be assured she was in no pain right now but in a peaceful darkness. Though who knew how the shadows in her blood might alter that.

“How much time do we have?” I asked, keeping my attention on the queen. “Until she…until we are too late?”

“Two hours, I believe,” Ursula said flatly. “If the healers are to be trusted.”

So little time, and I know nothing of fucking poisons aside from my own personal experience. Which won’t exactly help me here.

“And we can only try one?” Graham asked.

Isa nodded.

“And how are we supposed to give her the antidote when she’s obviously unconscious and can’t swallow anything?” Phillip asked with more indignation than I’d ever heard or expected from him.

Isa breathed out a sigh, dropping her chin to her chest. Pulling in a long breath, she started to answer before she ever looked back up at us. “It should not have taken such quick effect. Originally, you would have been given a dose that would keep you conscious at least for half an hour. As you can see”—she shot a glare toward Ursula and then Warren—“Calla was poisoned with a larger dose. Still, the antidote does not need to be swallowed to be administered. While drinking is most effective, the plain truth is, sometimes that is not possible. The next best thing is to be absorbed through any bodily fluid: blood, saliva, etc. The antidote—should you find it—should show signs of efficacy within a minute or two, if not sooner.”

“General,” Warren groaned. “Seems like you’re giving a lot of information that should be better left for the competitors to figure out—or to know on their own. Hence the wisdom part of this trial?”

Isa ignored him, turning to Phillip to say more, but Korben’s voice boomed through the room, forcing Isa to snap her mouth shut.

“Aren’t we wasting time asking all of these questions?” he asked, already bringing his four cordial glasses closer to him.

“I have one more though,” Phillip said warily. He drummed his finger nervously on the table, eyeing his four options as if they might leap up and bite him.

“Yes?” Isa asked, ignoring how Korben and Warren both groaned in unison.

Phillip peered up at the general sidelong. “What’s in the other three glasses? The ones without the antidote? Are any of them…dangerous themselves?”

“Water, I believe,” she said. “The antidote is colorless, flavorless, with no aroma—as undetectable as the poison itself.”

Graham shook his head slowly, his hard gaze landing on Warren across the table. “And we are just supposed to trust the Assembly to not have added this invisible poison to any—or all—of our glasses?”

“What would that achieve, Graham?” Ursula asked.

But I answered before he could. “Kill off a competitor you don’t approve of, for one.”

The female clicked her tongue as she shifted her head to one side. “Come now, general. We only want to find the best king for our kingdom—and for our Calla.”

“For the queen you tried to strip of her crown?” I asked, curling my toes inside my boots to keep from jumping to my feet and strangling her.

Ursula softened her features into an innocent expression. “We were merely adhering to the laws her parents insisted on. Now you’re welcome to keep arguing with me, general, and you can think all manner of awful things about me, but time is slipping away with every barb you cast.”

I started to pull the small glasses closer when Isa cleared her throat.

“There is one more stipulation,” she said. “You cannot mix the glasses into one. They must remain separate.”

Well, there goes my first plan.

My heart pounded gradually faster and faster in my chest as my doubt gathered strength. I should have asked more questions when I’d been healed. I should have looked for more information when I had been sneaking around the infirmary. Never mind that my search that night had been interrupted.

Phillip arranged the small glasses in front of him quickly, his once shaking hand now scratching at his jaw as he considered the four options. Lifting his chin slightly, he asked, “Could I get four empty glasses, by chance?”

Isa quickly looked over her shoulder to the staff person standing by the door behind her and waved her forward with a flick of her fingers. She whispered quickly to the young female server, who dashed away with a sharp nod, leaving Isa to address the table.

“Yes, you will each get a number of empty glasses for any tests you feel would be helpful in your decision. Remember, though, that you may not mix them.”

While we waited for these to be brought out, Korben seemed to be using some sort of nursery rhyme to select his choice. His mouth moved silently as he tapped his finger on each glass, making several passes through all of them before finally settling on one, which he gingerly slid away from him. He did this a few more times, until he only had one remaining. We all watched him—curious looks on all our faces—as he picked up the final glass and walked over to Calla.

Isa stopped him, though, laying her hand flat against his chest.

“You’ve made your selection?” she asked. He nodded crisply, and she held out her hand in silent request for the glass. “I’ll be administering each.”

I couldn’t blame her for that decision, given that the queen’s own advisors had poisoned her. I wouldn’t want to let the contestants near her either.

Korben, however, pulled the glass closer to his chest and shook his head. “That wasn’t stated in the initial rules of the trial, general.”

Isa started to protest, but Ursula argued first. “He’s right, general. Each competitor should be allowed to administer their selection themselves, to ensure no…interference.”

Isa’s hands tightened into fists at her sides. She slammed her teeth together, but she stood firm, refusing to step aside until Ursula cleared her throat loudly. Snarling, Isa slowly pivoted out of her way, her muscles remaining taut.

“Sit down, general,” Warren insisted, gesturing smoothly to her chair. Again, she remained where she was, but the advisor brought his fist down so hard on the table that the glasses trembled. “NOW!” he barked.

Isa lowered herself to the edge of her seat, though I noticed her hand shifted to the dagger at her hip as she slid her gaze back to Korben. He approached Calla lazily, as if he were being forced to do some mundane chore rather than competing to save the queen’s life. I leaned forward, watching intently to see if his choice would have any effect on her.

He didn’t lift the cup to her lips though.

Instead he knelt down in front of her and reached for her hand.

What is he ? —

In a flash of movement, he produced a knife from his sleeve and sliced the blade across her palm.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Isa yelled, leaping up from her seat and shoving him away from Calla.

Korben didn’t seem at all bothered by her reaction, his face the epitome of calm. “You mentioned blood, so that’s what I chose.”

Isa looked about ready to punch him in the face, but instead she merely growled, crossing her arms while she hovered over him to observe his every movement. From where I sat, I didn’t have a clear view of it and didn’t know he had finished until he placed the empty cup upside down on the table.

Everyone craned their heads to see—even those who had an unobstructed view of the queen. I tried to pinpoint her pulse, but with so many of us in one room, it was impossible to identify hers.

Several breaths later, there was still no noticeable change in Calla’s state.

Isa pushed Korben out of the way with her hip, dragging Calla’s napkin off the table and wrapping it tightly around her limp hand. Tenderly, Isa brushed Calla’s hair out of her face like a fretting mother waiting for her child’s fever to break. She had barely rested the queen’s hand back down when she spun back around and slammed her hands onto the table, leaning forward and piercing each of us with a murderous glare.

“No. More. Blades,” she growled, hitting the table with her palm on each word. “Saliva only. Not blood. Understand?”

Warren threw out a condescending sigh across the room. “Stop being so dramatic, general. She’s a fae. She will heal.”

“You fucking idiot! The poison hinders her ability to fucking heal!” Isa screamed, flinging her hand into Calla’s water glass and sending it flying into the rest of Korben’s cordial glasses, which fell to the floor with tiny crashes.

Warren shrugged, donning a smirk I was about ready to punch off his smug face. “A few cuts are not going to kill her, general.”

I turned to the male and narrowed my eyes at him with feigned concern. “It may not be wise to patronize the heavily-armed female.”

He looked right past me, staring at Isa, and scoffed lightly. “She wouldn’t risk it. She can’t leave the queen’s side, and she knows coming after me—or any of us—would earn her a swift trip to the executioner.”

Shrugging, I turned away from him as servers brought in the empty glasses Phillip had requested and placed them in front of us.

What was I supposed to do with these? What could I do at all? Pick one randomly like Korben? That gave me slim odds for selecting the right one.

Phillip shifted away from me, reaching down the table toward Calla’s wineglass.

“May I?” he asked Isa, and she nodded.

He slid the glass toward him and proceeded to pour a little into each empty glass. Across from us Graham was studying each cup of potential antidote. What he was looking for, I couldn’t fathom. They said it was basically undetectable. Beside me, Phillip now poured a bit of one possible cure into a glass with the poisoned wine. Swirling it around, he peered into the cup—brows lifted high with hope—and waited. After a long moment, his face fell and he set it down, moving on to the next potential antidote.

It wasn’t a bad method, to be honest, but there was no way to know if the cure would react with the poison in any observable manner.

What if…

I shook my head, as if I could dislodge the insanity from my mind.

It was a risk, but a worthwhile one. It would only require a sip. I would just need to find the cure as quickly as possible before the poison could pull me into that peaceful darkness. With a glance toward the queen, verifying she was still unconscious, I reached for her wineglass from in front of Phillip and lifted it to my lips.