Page 60 of Once the Skies Fade (Immortal Reveries #2)

Chapter 60

Matthias

T he small bit of wine was still enough to coat my tongue before sliding easily down my throat.

Nothing happened.

Aside from Isa’s scolding voice booming toward me, “Matthias! What in the stars?—”

A single cackle from Warren cut through her words, followed by a collective gasp from the rest of the Assembly. Isa once more leaned over the table—much further this time, with her entire torso barely hovering over its surface. Her hand shot out in a silent demand for the wineglass.

I hesitated, taking a moment to assess my well-being. Fingers. Hands. Feet. Legs. Head. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Everything was in working order. Perhaps I needed to take another sip.

I started to lift it to my mouth again, but Phillip reached his hand over and grabbed it.

“Don’t,” he said, though he made no move to actually pull the glass away; he simply held his hand firmly in place, blocking me from another dose.

Korben laughed. “Let him drink more if he wants. Narrows the competition.”

Ignoring him, Isa moved closer. “Hand it over.”

As I moved to relinquish it, Phillip pulled his hand away and waited for a tense moment, studying me. Isa clutched the glass and awkwardly scooted backwards. Wine sloshed out and splashed onto the table, leaving deep red spots that might have resembled blood perfectly had it been thicker.

“What were you thinking?” Isa asked, smoothing down her jacket and checking to make sure her dagger was still secure.

I opened my mouth to answer, but the room flickered around me, like someone had extinguished all the lamps and relit them immediately. Looking around, I tried to focus, but ribbons of darkness danced across my vision, reminding me of the queen’s deadly, elegant shadows.

Hurry up.

She’s dying.

My thoughts nudged me in hissed whispers.

I pushed my fingers through the smoky strands, mesmerized by how my hand seemed not my own, like I was watching someone else choosing the glass and pulling it close. Darkness bathed the room once more, still brief, but longer this time. Tremors coursed through my arm, shaking my fingers.

Steady.

Little closer.

My lips could barely sense the glass against them, only aware it was there by the pressure of it as I tilted it back. The cool water cleansed away the taste of the wine, and I slowly set the glass down and began to count my breaths. Turning my head, I searched for Isa’s face. The room seemed to stretch out away from me, and I could barely make out her outline, let alone her expression.

Not it.

The black ribbons swelled as they continued to swirl.

That is definitely not the one.

Voices echoed around me, but I couldn’t make out any of their words, only their tones. Anger. Confusion. Laughter. A crash.

Through it all I narrowed in on the next glass, but it was now sitting so far away from me. Time seemed to lengthen, slowing. Or maybe it was me who was sluggish, but the glass was in my hand and to my lips before I even realized I was holding it.

Was I the one holding it?

Does it matter?

Just drink it.

The glass tipped up. The water cooled my senses, temporarily slicing through the dark patches and sparking a sliver of hope when my surroundings came back into focus. Within moments, though, everything faded, the inky streams trailing through my vision again, thicker this time. Silence settled around me, but I doubted everyone had stopped talking.

Why was my hand moving so slowly?

I opened my mouth—I thought—to ask Isa if Phillip or Graham had found the antidote yet, but snapped it shut again. I couldn’t waste time with that. If they’d won, they’d be giving me the antidote already. If Isa didn’t make sure of that, then Calla surely would.

A pained howl pierced the quiet of my dimming consciousness, and I jerked my head up despite not being able to tell which direction it came from. The room had shifted to dull shades of brown and gray, and it took my full attention to nudge both of my hands toward the remaining two glasses. They floated to me, the only indication that I was the one moving them being the sight of my own hands gripping them tightly in my shaky fingers.

One of these was the antidote.

Something bumped into my leg, and I barely held them steady. I brought one up to my mouth as fast as I could before anything else could fuck this up. I couldn’t take them too closely together, because then there’d be no way to know which actually held the antidote. Carefully, I tilted the glass up, pouring some of the liquid past my lips.

There was no refreshing sensation this time, and while the water itself wasn’t actually hot, a searing pain shot through my tongue and throat, as if burning away the poison.

I hoped.

Clenching my eyes tightly, I willed myself to remain silent, swallowing back the agony.

This is temporary.

Only temporary.

I’ll either be cured soon.

Or dead.

The pain ebbed, fading as quickly as it had come on. I opened my eyes. The shadows had dissolved. The room had returned to its original state, except…not. I had emerged from my poisoned stupor to utter chaos.

While Calla still sat, unconscious, dying in her chair at the end of the table, Korben stood in the far corner, holding Isa’s arms tightly behind her back. She struggled to get free, and he sneered as he hissed in her ear, convincing her to still. Graham stood—his chair toppled over on its side—screaming at Ursula and Warren, who had joined her on the other side of the table.

“You can’t have him restrain the fucking general!” Graham shouted, throwing his arms out to the sides. Ursula shrugged while Warren waved a placating hand in the air.

“The fucking general shouldn’t try to interfere with official trials. She’ll be released once the trial is complete. No harm done.”

“No harm done?!” Graham’s eyes flew open even wider. He pivoted around and tossed his hand toward Calla. “The queen is dying because of you assholes.”

His words hit me like a bucket of cold water after a night of too many drinks. Pushing away from the table, I turned, ready to take the antidote over to Calla, but I stopped short. Phillip lay on the floor, eyes closed but still breathing. At first I wondered if he’d taken the poison, too, but the eight glasses that had been in front of him were now scattered around him, water and wine spilled across his shirt. Kneeling beside him, I pressed my fingers to his wrist. He still had a pulse, though slower and weaker than normal. I rose, determined to get to Calla. As I stepped over him, Phillip must have come to, because his hand reached out for my ankle, tripping me up enough that the remainder of the antidote spilled from the glass.

A growl erupted from my chest.

I’d fucking poisoned myself and for what? Only to have it spilled and wasted?

Pulling my leg back, I prepared to kick the poor male on the floor, but I slammed my boot down onto the stone instead. It wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t intended to do that.

I spun around, my balled fists restrained at my sides.

Graham froze, half-turned toward me. His eyes drifted down to the four glasses still sitting at his place.

“Which one is it?” I bellowed, but he only shook his head, one shoulder lifting shakily.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

“Pick any of them!” He hesitated, biting his bottom lip hard while he studied his options. Slamming my fist on the table, I snarled at him. “Who gives a shit about winning if she fucking dies?”

I just needed him to pick one. Even if it was only water, the trial would be over and they’d give her the antidote to revive her. Still he hemmed and hawed, though, his hand now rubbing at his jaw.

“Just pick one, Graham,” Isa yelled from the corner, but Korben rewarded that with pulling her arms tighter behind her.

“For fuck’s sake.” I charged around the table, ready to snatch one up and force it into his pathetic hand, but having poisoned myself like an idiot, I wasn’t as fast. Warren darted around Graham, stopping me with his finger jabbing into my chest.

“No. No helping each other in this trial,” he warned.

I screamed in his face. “I don’t give two fucks about him; I just want to save her!”

Graham gingerly lifted a glass and started to move around us. I might have sighed in relief that the prick had finally found his nerve, but I didn’t know how long it had taken me to find the antidote and how much time Calla had left. With Graham on his way toward Calla to test his pick, I attempted to push past Warren to grab the remaining three, but the fucker stopped me.

His hand came down hard on my wrist, his fingers tightening around it. He started to force my arm away from the table, but Ursula stepped forward and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Graham has made his choice, Warren. Certainly there’s no harm in letting this general take the others over? If Graham fails, we will want the antidote close by, no?”

Warren glowered at me for a long breath before finally pushing out a sigh and muttering, “Fine.” He didn’t release me until Ursula pulled away, but she dropped her hand too low, conveniently crashing into the glasses, spilling them.

“Fuck!” I growled, shoving Warren back. He stumbled into Ursula, who looked about ready to come at me herself, but she decided against it. The other four advisors all sat at their end of the table, hands covering their mouths, eyes wide, but they did nothing to actually step in.

“You are all worthless,” I said, and turned away from them.

Graham set the glass he’d tried upside down on the table. His head dropped to his chin, and he crumpled into Isa’s chair. A furious scream burst from him, and he thrust both his hands angrily out in front of him, sending Calla’s cup of poisoned wine flying, splashing across the table.

The worthless prick. Was he just going to give up? Wait for one of these other fuckers to save her? The only one here aside from me who cared about Calla was Isa. I snapped my eyes up to her, where Korben still held her tightly.

“Let her go. It’s over!” I said, but Korben didn’t until he shifted his gaze to the Assembly, who presumably nodded.

As soon as he released her, she twisted around, and before he could react, she reached up, grabbed him by his hair, and pulled his face down into her raised knee. His pitiful groan filled the room, and Isa shoved him down into the corner before turning back to me.

“Where’s the antidote?” I asked her. Isa scanned the table, and then all color drained from her face.

“Gone,” she mumbled. That couldn’t be right.

“What do you mean gone?” I asked, grabbing her arms and forcing her to look at me.

“I mean”—she threw a hand out toward the table—“there’s none left. It’s all spilled.”

“You didn’t have any extra on hand?” I couldn’t believe this. Who the fuck planned this trial?

“All the extra was supposed to be in Calla’s water glass, which isn’t here.”

I could face the Assembly, demand to know where the rest of it was, but we didn’t have time. They wouldn’t give me any useful information anyway.

Slowly, I turned to Calla, lowering myself to kneel beside her and lifted my hand to her face. I brushed my thumb over her cheek, desperate fear causing it to shake. My chest burned, a dark fire consuming me, searing my heart, eating away at any hint of hope I had left.

I stilled.

Burning. Searing.

The cure.

The cure had burned away the poison when I drank it.

No.

This was insane.

Then again, poisoning myself to find the antidote had also been insane, and it had worked.

Maybe this would too.

Lifting myself up off the floor, I cradled Calla’s face in my hands and brought my lips to hers, hoping against all fucking hope that some of the antidote lingered to save her…and that she wouldn’t kill me for this.