Mask of Shadows (Untitled #1)(58)

He kept dumping his wine in the potted plant behind him and demanding I refill his cup. Dying by his hand might’ve been better than this.

He must’ve recognized me.

Two ate enough to be polite. She spat the poisonous mushrooms from the first dish into a handkerchief; took the wine but wisely refused the poisoned tea; and palmed the candied plums dusted with extra sugar and deadly sunrise trumpet. The servants moved only when called.

By the time Two was done—alive but chastised for her posture—I was tired of holding a half-full pitcher of wine. This was too boring to be bearable.

Four entered. Finally.

I straightened. He was only two steps away and laughing. I gripped the handle of my pitcher tighter, the weight of Elise’s words on my skin giving me courage, and waited to pour his wine. The other servers fluttered around him, taking twice the time to set up his first plate so Emerald could slip white powder into his grits. He saw, smiled, and motioned to me. He never looked away from the Left Hand.

Perfect.

I bowed next to Four with my hand holding the packet of Lady’s Palm on top of the pitcher to keep it still while I poured a steady stream of poison into his glass. The poison dissolved on contact—odorless and tasteless once in liquid. Four must have assumed that if the Left Hand hadn’t touched the wine that it would be safe. Perfect.

I waited for him to take a few sips and whispered, “You should recant.”

He spat what was left of his wine back into the glass. “What did you give me?”

Everyone stopped.

“Lady’s Palm.” I straightened and let the silence hang between us. The nightshade was safe in an extra pocket Maud had sewn into my shirt. “And I can’t recall killing Six or where I put the nightshade extract.”

“Finally!” Ruby tapped a butter knife against his wrist. “I thought you’d never get to the point.”

Emerald leaned back in her chair, fingers tightening around her glass. “A condition of your probation was not killing the other auditioners.”

“Dying’s up to him,” I said, hoping my voice was steady. I was giving them enough reason to name me Opal or kill me on the spot. “Four lied to cover up killing Six.”

“I didn’t kill Six.” Beneath the table, Four rubbed his palms along his pants. Sweating—the first symptom.

“Auditions are like court, right?” I set my pitcher down, arms shaking, and glanced at Ruby. His mask gave nothing away. “A witness recants in court, they strike it from record. You can’t be tried if they’ve got nothing.”

“This would’ve been simpler if you’d had an alibi.” Emerald took Four’s poisoned wine and held it up to the light. “Where’d you get this?”

I shrugged. Let Eleven do as she pleased as long as I got reinstated. If she messed up and hurt a servant, all the better. I’d given Maud the warning and extract. They’d be fine, and Eleven would be gone.

“I’ll leave a little trail of witnesses everywhere I go next time.” I leaned in front of Four till our eyes were level. The Left Hand only watched. Good. If they weren’t stopping me, they were all right with this. “You feeling it yet?”

Four swallowed. Second sign. Slobbering and sweating, the death marks of Lady’s Palm. “I saw you walking in the opposite direction alone when I went to kill Six. Happy?”

“Very.” I ignored Emerald’s snort. “So?”

Ruby and Amethyst shared a look, and he inclined his head to Emerald. She shifted, the start of a word echoing behind her mask, and a shout outside the door stopped her. We all turned.

“What else did you do?” Emerald asked sharply.

“Nothing.” I shook my head. “I was only after Four.”

The door crashed open. Fifteen stumbled inside, mask torn and face bloody. Sweat dripped down his broken nose, cutting through the pale yellow dust coating his skin, and he raised his trembling hands. A servant hung limp in his grip, blood trickling out of her mouth. He tossed her into the room.

Amethyst dove for her. Emerald leapt to her feet, drawing a pair of knives from her dress, and I lurched backward. Fifteen’s huge frame and glazed eyes shook me to my bones. He wouldn’t go down easy.

Ruby jumped the table and grabbed my throat, ramming my back against the wall. A blade bit into my neck.

“What did you do?” he asked, voice cold and dead. As much as I looked up to him, I’d no love for this end of his blade.

“Nothing.” I stilled. “Eleven trapped my door. That’s how I got the Lady’s Palm. I didn’t do anything else.”

Ruby’s fingers twitched, the raspy sound of his rapid breathing all that hinted at his feelings. He dropped me. “And stole the nightshade from Isidora, I imagine? Good. That’s not too bad.”

“Spies!” Fifteen grasped at everything in sight and threw a pitcher.

I shoved Ruby in front of me. The pitcher caught him in the stomach, sloshing water down his front. He kicked the pitcher at me, soaking my shoes, and circled around the table to Emerald. They stood guard over Amethyst and the servant.

Probably shouldn’t have done that. If Ruby was mad at me before, using him as a shield wasn’t going to help his mood.

“You turned us in. I saw you.” Fifteen howled and caught Four’s collar. Four—skin ashen and reactions slowed by the Lady’s Palm—flailed in Fifteen’s grasp. “You were there.”