Page 56 of Vow of the Shadow King

I turn on heel, put my back to him.

“Or would I have been wrong to say as much?” Sul’s voice sinks, turns into something dark and slithery. “Is it possible my brother—my great king, our noble ruler, Mythanar’s valorous protector—has forgotten his duty?”

“I have not forgotten.”

“I’m not so certain.”

My fists clench. I let out a slow breath. This time, I cannot blameraogpoisoning for the sudden, violent urges coursing in my veins. With an effort, I master my feelings before looking back at him over my shoulder. “I am aware of my duty, brother. Are you still aware of yours?”

His eyes are heavy, unfocused. The sedative Ar gave him swiftly takes effect. “I serve the throne of Mythanar,” he murmurs, his words slurred. “At whatever cost.” With that, his eyelids drop. His head tips to one side, and his face goes slack. I cannot tell if he is feigning sleep in order to escape the conversation, or if he truly did just drift away. In either case, I cannot very well grab his shoulders and shake him awake again. I might rebreak his arm.

Besides, was anything he just said untrue?

Cursing under my breath, I stalk across the room, past rows of empty beds. I pause at the bed nearest the door. There Lord Rath lies. He looks more like a corpse than an invalid. His skin is sunken and gray, his eye sockets deep hollows. Hatred stirs in my heart. Gods, how I loathe even to look at the man! When I think what he nearly did to Faraine . . . But then, what right have I to judge? Under theraog’sinfluence, I did worse. Twice over.

“Madame Ar!”

I’m obliged to call half a dozen times before the healer finally pokes her head back into the healing ward. “What?” she demands.

I swing a hand to indicate her patient. “How is he? Has he woken again?”

“Eh, once or twice.” Ar regards Rath disinterestedly. “I keep him sedated most of the time. When he comes to, he’s frantic, out of his mind. And self-destructive. Seems determined to put his miserable life to an end. Part of me wants to let him, but eh,” she shrugs. “Morar tor Grakanakdetermines the length of our days, or so mymaralways taught me. Best not to question the will of the Dark.”

I regard Rath’s wasted face. Would I too have sunk into such a condition eventually had the poison remained in my system? A frown puckers my brow. Why had I not thought of it before? Faraine somehow used her gods-gift to drive the poison out of me. Could she not do the same for Rath? But it had caused her such pain. How could I ask her to endure that again? Especially not for a man who nearly murdered her.

Besides . . . I glance over my shoulder at the sleeping form of my brother, so peaceful under the singlelorstlight. My heart twists painfully. When Rath wakes, he may be able to give testimony as to who poisoned him. Then will I have answers. Answers I’m not certain I want.

I step from the healing ward back into Ar’s workroom. Theuggrhahealer bustles about a table full of organic matter I prefer not to study too closely. Instead, I scan the cluttered room. On a table near the far wall stand two goblets which catch my eye.

“Madame?”

Ar pops her head up from her work, glaring at me through two gleaming crystal lenses. “What now?”

“Did you finish the tests you were running on these?” I nod meaningfully at the goblets.

Her eyes swivel, the movement exaggerated hugely by her lenses. “Ah! Yes, I nearly forgot.” She sniffles then snorts. “Trace amounts of ingestibleraogpowder were found in each goblet. One more than the other, but definitely both.” She slips the lenses down her nose, peering at me over the wire frames. “Did anyone drink from those goblets, do you know?”

Ignoring the question, I cross the room and pick up first one goblet then the other, turning them slowly. Sul poured and servedkrilgeto me that fateful day. Moments later, I fell under the poison’s influence. Did he drink too? I cannot recall. Perhaps he abstained, knowing the poison was there. Or perhaps he was entirely innocent. There’s always a chance.

“Thank you, Madame,” I say in lieu of an answer. “I will leave you to your work.”

She gives me a narrow look. Then, with a shrug, she resumes her work, and I climb the steps from the infirmary and step into the cooler air of the outer passage. Two solemn guards stand watch. They are meant to keep an eye on Rath until he can be questioned. I’d prefer they remained in the healing ward itself, but Ar long ago chased them out, threatening them with all manner of nasty home-brewed contagions. They salute me as I pass.

I nod. All the while, my stomach churns with bile. Gods, I hate suspecting Sul like this! But I must. At least until Faraine is safely out of Mythanar. Which won’t be long now.

One more day. One morelusterling.

Suddenly, I feel heavy. Like a stone has lodged itself in my chest. Leaning against the nearest wall, I rest my head against my forearm, close my eyes. And see her. Standing there, with her back against her chamber door. Gazing up at me from those strange eyes of hers. Eyes so deep, so endless, whole worlds might live and die within their dark pupils.

I’d lost control tonight. Utterly. Completely. Were it not for Hael, I would not have held back. She wanted me . . . and Dark alone knows how badly I wanted her! After everything I saw today, after believing for those few, terrible moments that she was lost to me. Knowing that she must ultimately go from my world, never to return. All these combined into a desperate urge to claim whatever sweet instant of bliss she and I might share together before our chance is gone.

I must not see her again. Only a fool would put himself right back into a danger he so narrowly escaped. Sure, I’d promised her this little excursion, but it would be easy enough to get out of it. A message sent by page claiming that some important business has come up, that I must forego the pleasure of her company. Hael can act as her city guide instead. Better yet, I ought to forbid the tour altogether. Keep her locked away safe and fast.

But I cannot do that. Not to her.

Her face flashes before my mind’s eye. Intense, determined. She’s so delicate, so frail, yet her spirit is strong. She’s like the captive songbirds I’d seen at Beldroth, fluttering at the bars of their gilded cages. Though I myself have such a horror of the sky, I’d felt their need for freedom and had fought the urge to break their cages open and turn them loose.

I wish I could break all the cage bars for Faraine. Let her fly free, let her soar as high into that terrifying sky as her spirit will carry her. Away from all the darkness which haunts both my kingdom and hers. Instead, I must send her from one cage to another.

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