Page 38 of Poisoned Kingdom (Secrets of Dagome #1)

Roksana

‘ S ana, may I come in?’ Irsha’s voice came through the door—polite, but uncertain.

I quickly opened it, but he didn’t step inside.

His eyes scanned me, sharp with suspicion. ‘Why do you look like a dark sister of the Blades? You have an invitation. Why the masquerade?’

‘Because I need to sneak into the Chapter House before I officially proclaim my return,’ I said, pulling him into my room before walking back to the table and attaching an alchemist belt to my skirt.

‘I couldn’t find anything in Jagon’s workshop.

The place was so neat, I was afraid to touch anything .

. . I don’t even know what was in half the bottles.

I tried bribing his apprentice, but the poor sod feared his master too much to take my money,’ he said, sitting heavily on a chair.

‘Though I’m guessing you knew that would happen. ’

I smiled at his reflection in the mirror. ‘Stop looking like a beaten puppy. I know you did your best, but some things can only be spotted if you know what you’re looking for. Tell me if anything’s changed in the Chapter House, or can I safely assume Jagon’s workshop is still on the first floor?’

Irsha groaned, closing his eyes for a moment. ‘So you’ve lost the last of your marbles. If Jagon catches you sneaking in and stealing his stuff, he’ll use it against Boyan, and the old man’s already hanging onto his position by a thread.’

‘I have to do this. I’m going to bow to Boyan and disclose my involvement with the mages.

You know that will cause Jagon to lose his shit and take it as a declaration of war so I need to ensure Lily’s safety,’ I said, wrapping my braid around my head in a peasant crown before pulling up my hood.

‘Can you create a little distraction so I can slip in?’

‘No,’ he said, and I turned towards him, frowning as he adjusted my hood. ‘I’ll get you in, but if you get into trouble, you withdraw. I don’t want to lose my friend because she’s too stubborn to retreat. As for Lily’s safety, leave it to me.’

‘Fine,’ I said when he reached for the mask lying on the table. I was itching to ask how he was going to protect her, but in the end, I let it slide. ‘So, shall we?’

‘Of course. Now, be a good assassin, keep your head down, and walk behind your master,’ he replied with a smirk, placing the mask on my face, making me almost indistinguishable from any other dark sister.

As soon as he’d fastened the ties, Irsha’s demeanour changed completely.

As we left my room, I walked beside him out of habit but his barked command to ‘Step back’ made me falter, and I muttered an apology.

When we were outside, I stayed back, keeping my hood low whilst looking around for danger.

If any observer had spotted me then, I would have looked like a clumsy apprentice, which was exactly what I was aiming for.

‘Master Vilkor, a pleasure to see you, sir. Who’s your companion?’

I heard the guard’s challenge and hunched my shoulders into a position that allowed me to drop my hand to my dagger.

Irsha smacked me upside the head. ‘Behave, child.’ I released my weapon and cowered. ‘Just an idiot who can’t follow simple orders,’ he said to the guard.

The guards fell over themselves laughing, wishing Irsha good luck on training ‘stupid’ as they opened the doors and let us into the Chapter House.

Irsha grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, forcing me to stumble ahead.

My friend played the annoyed mentor to perfection, but he was a large man, and his fake discipline left real bruises.

It didn’t take long to arrive at the corridor near Jagon’s workshop, but my body was aching by the time we got there.

‘Wait here,’ Irsha said. ‘I’ll check if Jagon’s inside. As soon as you hear raised voices, wait a slow count of thirty, then slip into the room.’ I nodded, finding a hiding spot in a shadowy nook. I waited with a handful of sleeper’s ash, ready for anyone who may have discovered me.

Irsha marched inside the workshop, and a moment later, shattering glass and raised male voices echoed down the corridor right before the door snapped open.

‘How dare you suggest any poison I supply is substandard! If Boyan doesn’t reprimand you for this, Blade, I will.’

Irsha’s reply was smooth as ever. ‘I have the poison in my quarters. It couldn’t even make a frog bleed. Maybe talk to your apprentices—because my assassins can’t be gambling their lives on something that weak.’

I couldn’t help smirking. If there was one sure way to draw Jagon out of his den, it was to insult his craftsmanship. Irsha knew that—and plucked at my former master’s ego like a well-tuned lute.

Footsteps faded down the corridor, Jagon’s furious voice trailing behind them, still demanding Irsha retract his ‘slander’ or face the consequences.

I slid out from my little nook and walked towards the door, only hesitating for a moment before I turned the handle.

It was like travelling back in time to a place I still saw in my nightmares.

I promptly glanced around the shelves where various ingredients were stored, neatly organised. They had clearly been set out by an apprentice who knew that if they made the slightest mistake, Jagon would force them to test his newest poison.

‘The old bastard hasn’t changed,’ I muttered, quickly scanning the notes left on his desk, careful not to make a mess.

Unfortunately, all the schemata and notes were just old recipes used for teaching the basics.

I hadn’t expected much, but I still peeked at Jagon’s journals.

Again, there was nothing out of the ordinary, although one thing caught my attention: There were far too many orders from the South, and one of the poisons requested affected a mage’s ability to use aether.

Frankly, it was the largest order of lanara poison I’d seen in my life, and I took a mental note of the date and quantity.

In the hidden compartments of his desk, I found a second ledger, full of names I didn’t recognise, so I used a quill to record those which sounded vaguely familiar or important on my arm.

Still, there was no signed confession or any trace of the small box with the lip gloss I had made several years ago.

When I’d finished with the desk, I moved on to Jagon’s favourite picture, a gloomy landscape of his homeland. I was rummaging through the potent concoctions hidden behind it when I heard noises outside.

My former master was returning, and I was elbow-deep in his precious inventions.

‘Fuck,’ I muttered, rushing towards a hidden partition I vaguely remembered.

The hidden passage opened when I pressed the last petal of a rose carved into the wall, and I slipped inside, stifling my relieved sigh.

Jagon had never revealed this space to me, but after he’d forced me to drink a particularly lethal poison, I’d awakened on the floor earlier than he expected and played dead.

He must have forgotten about me, but I’d watched him, noticing the catch he used to access the secret room.

‘Check everything. That bonehead wouldn’t have dragged me out of here if he weren’t planning something. Ensure all the orders are coded and secured.’

My breath hitched at hearing Jagon’s words until I reminded myself that Irsha and Jagon had equal power in the Brotherhood.

‘The orders are untouched, my lord. Are you sure it was a ploy?’ a much younger voice answered.

‘Of course it was, and I’m betting Roksana’s behind it.

That idiot Blade hasn’t communicated with his chapter since she reappeared in Truso, and I’m betting he’s spending his nights with her.

’ Jagon released such a theatrical sigh, I could almost see him rolling his eyes.

‘My Nightshade used to love to use him against me, and I can’t even blame her for taking advantage of the sentimental fool,’ Jagon said with such disdain that I wanted to throw something caustic in his face.

‘Nothing seems to be touched or moved. I’ve even checked the shelves of rare ingredients and poisons,’ the apprentice said, and I congratulated myself for carefully placing every bottle back in its place.

‘Good, fine. You’re free to go,’ Jagon said.

After a moment, I heard a door close, followed by footsteps approaching my hideout.

I was in a narrow corridor that led to a cluttered room with no windows—at least, that’s what I remembered from my one and only visit.

I started to panic when I heard the clicking of the carved petal and grabbed a handful of sleeper’s ash, ready to blow it into the poison master’s face when a voice rang out.

‘Master Jagon, there’s a message from the dwarven kingdom.’

‘Later,’ Jagon snapped.

‘But . . . they halved the last delivery and brought nothing this time. The messenger’s threatening to leave,’ the voice insisted.

‘What’s that paranoid bastard up to now?’ Jagon muttered before his footsteps moved away.

I didn’t recognise the speaker from their voice but blessed them with all my heart.

After several moments of silence, a door slammed in the distance.

Whether it was Irsha’s ploy or a fortunate coincidence, I didn’t have time to spare thinking about it.

I patted the surrounding space until my hand landed on the familiar shape of a fae light, and a soft glow soon illuminated the room.

I took a glance around and nearly laughed.

Jagon had always left the cleaning to his apprentices, and in a place where only he could enter, the layers of dust were so thick they felt like cat fur.

However, his disdain for cleaning had left a small space cleared of dust, giving away where he’d most recently worked.

A small chest sat in the roughly cleaned area, inviting me to open it, and when I did, I smiled at the familiar metal box I found inside.

My best poison, Wrath of Lilies , which I’d used to kill Ignac Tivala, still smelled like lilacs.

I took a pinch, rubbing it between my fingers, and my aether instantly recognised and neutralised the familiar pattern.

‘I shouldn’t have left you here,’ I muttered, switching the box out with one I’d brought with me—if Jagon ever tried using it as evidence, he’d simply be presenting the court with a costly beauty product.

I was about to leave when my gaze landed on a bookshelf with another clean space in front of a book’s spine, indicating the poison master had withdrawn it often.

Out of curiosity, I took the book and let it fall open naturally.

It opened to a very stained page detailing an old recipe, and the more I read, the more my eyes widened.

I was holding possibly the only copy of The Poisons of Ozar , a book lost centuries ago, before the First Necromancer’s War. Leaving it in Jagon’s possession felt like a crime, but, grinding my teeth, I put it back in its place, rushing out of the workshop.

I returned to the nook I’d used earlier and was immediately accosted by Irsha.

‘Sana, fuck, I thought that bastard caught you. Boyan almost ripped my tongue out for accusing Jagon of incompetence, so I hope you found what you were looking for.’

‘Partially,’ I said, fighting my nervous laughter, ‘though I did find something very interesting. Come on, let’s go back to the House of Lilies. I’ll buy you a beer and tell you all about it.’

‘I can’t,’ he said. ‘But I’ll escort you out of the building. Some of my men were injured today and I need to see them. I’ve been neglecting my duties, and that won’t do, especially with Jagon’s meddling.’

‘Okay, then I’ll see you when I make my official return. Thank you for helping,’ I responded, pulling my hood up and following him back out onto the street.

‘I’ll be ready for the chaos, but in the meantime, be careful,’ Irsha cautioned me as he pulled me into a hug. ‘I’ll be too busy to pull you from the king’s or Jagon’s clutches.’

‘Always,’ I said.

I disappeared into the crowd, unable to stop smiling under the mask.

Outsmarting Jagon was a reward in and of itself, but my plans had expanded.

One look at the poisons and I’d realised that leaving had been a mistake.

I hadn’t found freedom by serving M?ot, or knowledge by attempting to train myself in the art of magic.

I couldn’t be just a mage, or just a poisoner . . . I was both.

If the rules governing our world prevented me from becoming what I was always meant to be, it was time to change them.

Because I refused to choose, and I wouldn’t allow anyone to force me to run away again.