Page 38 of Taste of Thorns (The Firestone Academy #3)

Chapter Thirty-Five

B eaufort

I drag Henrietta into a small side room, one used by the Lords and Ladies of the court for games of cards. I flick on a side lamp and secure the door shut. Then I point to one of the chairs set around the nearest card table and Henny sits.

“What exactly is it that you want to know?” she asks.

“You know what I want to know. Who the hell were you and Kratos meeting out there on the academy moorland in the middle of the fucking night? And why?”

“The Black Worm,” she says, picking up a discarded pack of cards from the table and beginning to shuffle through them.

“I don’t know that name. Is it a code name?”

“I assume so. I assume he doesn’t want us to know his real name.”

“Do you know who he really is?”

She shakes her head. “No clue at all.” She lays the cards out face down in front of her and starts to flip them over one at a time.

“Why not?”

“I’ve had no motivation to find out.”

That doesn’t ring true to me. Henny is clever. She’d want to know who she was dealing with.

“Henrietta,” I growl, and she looks up at me expectantly at the note of warning in my voice. “Tell the truth.”

“I happen to be, Beaufort. I have no idea who the man is. I only know him by that name.”

“But he is a shadow weaver?”

She nods. “I’d never met him or seen him before until recently. He’s not from here.” She sweeps her hand across the room. “He doesn’t move in our circles.”

“And why were you meeting with him now?”

A sly smile spreads across her mouth, one that makes me uncomfortable. “He supplies me with Dream Rot.”

I stare at her in disbelief. My mouth drops open. “Henny, no,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. She’s lying to me. She must be. “Why the hell would you touch that stuff?”

“You know why, Beau.”

“You’re powerful enough. You don’t need it.”

“Oh, but I do,” she says, as she flips over the ace of spades, her eyes ablaze, “it’s all I can think about.”

“Shit,” I say, combing my hand through my hair, pacing to the door and back again.

I can’t believe this is true. Henrietta has always been unpredictable and erratic.

But she wouldn’t be stupid enough to take Dream Rot.

It’s a highly illicit substance. A highly dangerous one.

A substance said to enhance a shadow weaver’s powers tenfold, but a substance that leaves the user at its mercy, completely and utterly dependent.

The Empress has banished more than one shadow weaver who was discovered to be using the stuff.

“Are you telling me Kratos is using too?”

She sniffs. “It seems so.”

Which makes more sense. Kratos has always wanted to be stronger than me. He’s craved power, recognition, dominance. He’d do just about anything to see himself propelled above me. And if he believes Dream Rot would help him grow his powers, surpass my powers, he’d take the risk.

“For how long?” I say, staring down at her face, noticing her dilated pupils, pupils that can’t keep still. I should have seen this. It’s fucking obvious. “For how long have you both been using it?”

“Let me see,” she says, pretending to count on her fingers, then glaring up at me, “about the time you dumped me.”

“I didn’t dump you.”

She sneers.

“We weren’t right for each other and you know it.”

“Look around you, Beaufort. Most of the marriages in this Quarter are strategic. Very few have anything to do with feelings or compatibility. We may not be the best fit together … personality wise, but we always were in the bedroom.” I sniff at that.

I barely remember those occasions with Henny, my head has been far too full of Briony.

“And we are well matched power wise, family wise. Our alliance would be advantageous to both our families.”

I may not have feelings for the girl. I may consider her half crazed. But I don’t want to hurt her. I turn my hands over, revealing the markings on my wrists. “Fate did not design us to be together, Henrietta.”

“Fate,” she scoffs.

“Don’t tell me you don’t believe in it, because I know you do.

“Perhaps I believe that fate can get it wrong sometimes,” she snipes.

I sigh. I won’t be changing her mind.

“You need to stop taking the stuff, Henny,” I tell her. “It’s dangerous.”

“Maybe for some lesser shadow weavers – ones who have never been any good at controlling or growing their powers. Not for me, Beaufort. It lets me see more clearly, focus more intently, think more creatively. It has the shadows soaring from me like storm clouds. The more I take, the stronger I become.” She smiles. “You should try some, Beaufort.”

“No,” I say.

“You ever think that maybe the stuff isn’t that bad? That she’s banned it, just to stop others from becoming more powerful than she is?”

“Those are treasonous words, Henny,” I warn her in a low whisper.

“You’d be unstoppable. You and your bond brothers. You could rule the realm.”

I try to remember how I used to think before Briony stepped into my life. What was it that I wanted? Where did I crave to belong? What plans and ambitions did I harbor?

Would I have been tempted by Henny’s offer? Would I have been able to resist such an offer? All powerful, all mighty. Stepping into and accepting my destiny. Maybe even ruling this realm one day. If I’m honest, it was the path I saw for myself.

Now I’m not so sure that is my path. I know it isn’t what I want. Fate has given me my two bond brothers. It’s given me a girl from Slate Quarter who can wield light. By proxy, it’s also tied me to a vampire professor.

I don’t crave power anymore. I crave soft touches, sugar-laced words, and sweet embraces.

“You can come off it, Henny. I can find you some help. No one would have to know.”

“I don’t want to give it up. I have no intention to.” She tilts her head to one side. “Are you going to tell on me, Beaufort Lincoln?”

“If I do, will you try and kill me?”

She cackles with laughter. “I’m not making any promises.”

“I won’t snitch on you, Henny.” Although, it’s severely tempting to snitch on Kratos. He is responsible for Briony’s near death – something I can’t forget or forgive. But if I did, he’s sure to implicate Henny and our friendship may be soured, twisted, and tainted, but we were friends once.

Besides, Kratos’ father would start a civil war if his son was banished. He’d have the very excuse he’s been waiting for.

“If you change your mind …”

“I won’t,” she says with determination.

I flop down on the chair opposite her.

This was a wasted trip and a waste of my time.

“You don’t look so happy, Beau,” Henny says, playing with the corner of a queen of hearts.

“No, I’m not happy you’re using. I’m certainly not happy Kratos is. And I’m still none the wiser as to who has been attacking Briony.”

“Oh dear, trouble in paradise?”

I look up and into Henny’s crazed face. I wonder … the girl is smart. She has allies I was unaware of. Maybe she knows more than I thought. She’s also loyal to the Empress. Her family always has been.

“Someone has been attacking Briony. Attacking her as a means to get to us.”

“The Hardies?” Henny asks.

“Yes, but they must be working for someone else. I suspect this is part of a bigger plot to move against us, and therefore the Empress.”

“Then isn’t it obvious?” she says, spinning the card around.

I lean forward. “Do you know who it is, Henny?”

She shakes her head. “But I can guess.”

“Who?”

“Who else but the usual suspects.”