Page 16 of A Song of Ash and Moonlight

Something—someone—was rending the fabric of my gown, exposing my midriff to the air, which was agonizingly cold. I would freeze like this, prickling all over; my skin would crack into pieces.

I tried to curl my body against it, instinct making me jerk about and scream. I would fight this cold thing attacking me with my very last breath, and then I would burst into flames, or perhaps my stomach would twist around on itself, wringing me out, turning all my bones to powder.

I cried out, no longer knowing words. The pain was terrible, shooting out my fingernails and eyes and digging into my marrow.

“My gods,” someone murmured, and then there were gentle fingers on my stomach, gentle but terrible, like being pierced by true blades, and I looked down to see my bare stomach, my torn dress—and right where the trick blade had stabbed me, where the slight abrasion from the man slamming into me had left a pink mark on my skin, an ugly black bruise had formed, with skinny arms branching out in every direction. They stretched across my skin and disappeared under my dress, tiny dark rivers of evil. I heaved at the sight, clawed at myself. My nails broke skin, tearing open the scrape and drawing blood. A pale steaming liquid seeped out of the wound and dribbleddown my dress; seeing it, I was suddenly, violently sick.

There was a confusing clamor all around me. “She’s been poisoned,” someone cried.

Then another voice, deep and furious, said, “That damned blade must have been laced with something. Bring every healer you can find! And if that man escapes this place before I can get to him, I swear to the gods, I will make every one of you regret it until the end of your days.”

The same voice gentled, very close now. “Farrin. Farrin, hold on to me.”

I tried to obey. The last thing I saw was a warm white light coming toward me. Someone said tonelessly, “No healer can stop this. The venom is Olden.”

Then a hot angry mouth opened inside me, black fire flooding out of its throat, and swallowed me whole.

Chapter 4

I came back to myself and found several faces hovering over me: Gemma, Gareth, Alastrina, Illaria. I was lying on the floor, the great ceiling of the Citadel soaring overhead, and my back and head were propped up against something warm and reassuringly solid.

I tried to twist around to see what the thing was, but twisting made my stomach twinge with pain, and all of a sudden everything came flying back to me in bright colors.

I pushed myself upright, gasping, and looked down at my stomach. Someone had draped a pretty violet shawl over me, but underneath that I was half dressed—nearly naked, really. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I clutched the shawl to my throat, covering myself as best I could, and felt around my body with my other hand. I found only normal, unhurt skin, slightly tender, and my poor torn dress.

“What happened?” I croaked, turning, wincing, and I saw that the warm thing propping me up had been Ryder’s lap. Beside him, leaning hard against him as if otherwise she might puddle on the floor, was Yvaine. The creamy white of her skin looked sallow, unwell, but her lilac eyes were bright as ever. Her mouth was in a hard, angry line.

Ryder looked at me gravely, quiet fury burning in his gaze. “You were poisoned,” he said, “and the queen healed you.”

I couldn’t think of what to make of that, so I awkwardly gathered the shawl around me—thank the gods it was a generous size—and tried to turn away from all of them, but everywhere I looked was another face. A few royal guards had gathered around us. Their captain, Vara, wore a broad gold sash across her chest.

Then Gareth crouched down next to me and opened his arms, his expression a horrible, frightened thing that made me realize just how close I must have come to dying. I turned gratefully into his embrace and hid myself against him for a moment; after all, he’d seen me naked before at the university baths, and another time, a humiliating moment for both of us, that we hadn’t talked about since except in little jokes that never failed to lift our spirits. Gareth loved to laugh.

The thought made my tears spill over. Somewhere behind us, the orchestra played merrily on; the ball had resumed. I realized we were all hidden in an antechamber very near the dais. A pair of guards stood at the door, blocking us from view.

“The trick knife?” I rasped.

“Laced with venom,” Gareth replied. “I’d have to study it further to be sure, but based on the effects, I’d guess it was—”

“A fae elixir,” Yvaine interrupted softly. “Distilled from the roots of a tree that grew in a lonely wood, where the shadows are restless and every bloom hungers for flesh.”

We all stared at her. Alastrina, standing nearby, shifted uneasily and crossed her arms over her chest.

Slowly, the obvious became clear to my muddled mind. Yvaine hadhealedme, Ryder had said. A prickle of awe crept over me, raising goose bumps on my skin.

“You used your magic on me,” I whispered, marveling. Then a joltof panic lanced through me. “Are you all right? You look unwell. The poison, did it hurt you?”

Yvaine smiled from her spot beside Ryder, the sight of her so sweet that two of the guards turned away, visibly overcome.

“It looks worse than it is,” she said. “I took the venom from you, and now it lives in me. But it will die soon. Such evil can’t survive long inside my body. In fact…ah.”

She closed her eyes, cocked her head to the side as if listening to something none of us could hear. Soft pink returned to her cheeks, and she drew in a breath and opened her eyes. She patted Ryder’s shoulder and stood, quick and fluid, her hair cascading to the backs of her knees. The mightiest tiny thing that had ever lived.

“Thank you, Lord Ryder,” she said briskly. “Your shoulder is most excellently strong.”

Ryder blinked, looking suddenly much younger underneath that fearsome black beard, and then stared at his hands, a secret smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

I knew that smile; I knew what it felt like to receive the queen’s love.

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