Stormcaster (Shattered Realms #3)(109)

Captain Byrne fell to his knees beside the bed, his weathered face wet with tears. “Rai,” he said, in a low, husky voice. “I don’t understand. My connection to you—to the Line—is broken. I—I thought— How can I protect you if there’s no longer a bond between us?”

“Shhh,” she said, ruffling his hair, then smoothing it down again. “I will explain. Han gave me a message for you, too. When one door is closed, another opens. We have much to talk about. But right now, I am so very sleepy.” With that, she closed her eyes, still smiling, and slept.

They all stood speechless, until Speaker Jemson knelt next to Byrne. “Let us give thanks to the Maker for this miracle that we’ve all witnessed. Shall we pray?”

And they did.

When the speaker had finished, Ash returned to his examination of the cup. Though it was apparently empty, it still carried that faint, familiar scent, like old stone and rot. When he carried it to the window, in the daylight he could see a pinprick of light passing through to the inside. There seemed to be a tiny hole under one of the jewels on the outside. Using his belt blade, he pried at the stone, an amethyst, finally working it loose.

Underneath, he found a tiny wad of plant material. He scraped it out of the hole and onto a glass plate. This time, the scent surfaced a different memory.

He was back in Taliesin’s cottage at Oden’s Ford. They’d been going through her little book of poisons, studying each one from a healer’s perspective. Since she grew many of the plant sources in her garden, they were able to move from plant to processing to final product to treatment.

There was one poison that she didn’t grow in her garden. She kept it sealed in a glass jar, buried under a stone in the garden, unearthing it only for teaching purposes.

“Don’t touch it!” she’d snapped when he unstoppered the jar. “Be careful about breathing it in.”

“What is it?” he’d said, startled by the urgency of the warning. When they worked with poisons, the Voyageur usually relied on him not to be stupid.

“It’s called ‘two-step lily,’ because victims rarely manage two steps before they go down.”

Ash eyed it with new respect. “How do I treat it?”

“Pray,” his teacher had said. “I’ve never known anyone to survive it.”

When he’d sniffed at it, it smelled of death and decay. Even then, it was hauntingly familiar, but he couldn’t remember why.

Now he remembered.

Head swimming, stomach churning, he set the cup aside and washed his hands thoroughly.

“I suppose you have a good reason for damaging your grandmother’s cordial cup.” Ash looked up, and met Magret’s eyes.

He nodded. “The poison was embedded in the cup, under one of the jewels,” he said. “When wine was poured into the cup, the poison diffused into the wine. So it wouldn’t help to have a taster. Everyone drank from the same carafe, but she was the only one poisoned. Depending on who examined her after death, the fact that it was poison might have been overlooked. If it was suspected, we would blame the Carthians.”

“Do you know what kind of poison it was?” Talbot asked.

“We’ll take a closer look at it in the dispensary,” Ash said. “It’s too risky to try to analyze it with so many people around. I’m pretty sure it’s two-step lily.”

“Two-step lily?” Titus spoke up from his seat at the queen’s bedside.

Ash nodded. “It’s most potent when it’s injected under the skin—for instance, if it’s daubed on an arrow or a blade. It takes longer when ingested orally, but as far as I know, it’s invariably fatal. Until today, I guess.” He paused. “I can’t be sure, but I believe that it was what was used by the assassins who murdered my father.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Titus said, “and I always considered myself well schooled in poisons.”

“That was probably the idea—to use something that nobody here in the north would identify. It grows in only one or two places, high in the Heartfangs. The only reason I know about it is because of Taliesin. The Voyageurs came from the Heartfangs originally.” He released a long breath. “Whoever did this had a good knowledge of poisons and how to handle them.”

“Do you think Taliesin had anything to do with this?” Byrne said. “As supplier to agents from Arden, or—?”

Ash shook his head. “Anything’s possible, but it seems unlikely. When we met up in Delphi, Taliesin saved my life. She could have finished me off at any time in Oden’s Ford. Instead, she tipped you off as to where I was.”

“Who had access to the cup?” Byrne asked Magret.

Magret snorted. “Everyone. I mean, everyone in Her Majesty’s inner circle, her council, her ladies-in-waiting, servants, and so on. She was the only one who drank out of that cup, and everyone who paid attention knew it. It’s not like a person would have to time it just right. Once you treated the cup, it would sit there like a land mine, waiting to be set off.” Magret’s cheeks were pinked up, always a sign of danger for the unwary.

“When was the last time she drank from the cup?” Ash said. “Before tonight, I mean.”

“Probably within the week,” Magret said. “It’s always kept here, in her rooms. She never takes it to the dining room.”