A Ruin of Roses (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #1)(68)

Returning to Nyfain’s sickbed, I sat near his head. Hannon was working on cleaning his back, and the kids, Dash fresh in from outside, looked on.

“Tell me about the poison,” I said as I refamiliarized myself with the contents of the book. If only I’d chosen to leaf through this one the night I was taken, and actually stayed awake long enough to learn something, I would have had a head start. “Every detail you can remember. I already have the color.”

Nyfain gave me what he could, but it wasn’t much. As he listed what he knew, his words became more and more slurred.

Hannon reached over and peeled his lids open. “Eyes are clear, not bloodshot.” He put the back of his hand to Nyfain’s forehead. “High fever. Dash, go outside and get some cold water from the bucket. Sable, get some bandages.”

Dash ran down the hall, his feet light as a feather. That kid would make an excellent spy. Or thief.

“He can’t die,” I said as I hurried through the pages of the tree-slash-poison book, already knowing I wouldn’t find any answers. “Hannon, he cannot die.”

“You like him, then? Where’d you meet him? Where have you been?”

He applied cream to the claw marks. Nyfain jerked, his eyes snapping open and finding me immediately. After a moment, they closed again.

“I don’t like him. Or at least…it’s complicated. Just… He cannot die. Our future depends on it.”

Hannon studied me for a moment before going back to it. Dash showed up with the bucket, and Sable sat at Nyfain’s head. She dipped the cloth in and delicately applied it to his forehead.

“Your family is extremely competent, princess,” Nyfain mumbled.

“Is he mocking you?” Sable took the cloth away, scowling.

“Sable, when you are with a patient, it is not for you to judge him,” Hannon said in a level voice. “Only the goddess may do that.”

“Go ahead and judge me, Sable,” Nyfain said. “Your sister does.”

I blocked them out, poring over the poisons. Nothing perfectly matched the characteristics of the Fah Rahlen poison, though that wasn’t much of a surprise. The book chronicled natural poisons.

“Those creatures were created,” I said softly. “Sable, let Dash do that. Come over here and get ready to write things down.”

“What do you have?” Hannon asked.

“Those creatures were created. They are a mix of…evil and garbage, I don’t know. Their poison doesn’t come from nature. It’s not one thing, it is a collection of multiple things, and therefore I need to mix up various components to get the right antidote.” I waved my hand at Hannon. “It makes sense, I promise. I just need to start working it out. It’s risky…but if I get it wrong, he was going to die anyway.”

“That’s the spirit,” Nyfain murmured, running his hands up to clutch the pillow.

A crooked grin worked up Sable’s face. “I like him, Finley,” she whispered.

“You’re the only one,” he said. “It’s not burning. It feels like it is digging down into my back. Like it is sizzling against my spine.”

I nodded and got to work.





Fifteen minutes later, and with a few more details about Nyfain’s incredible pain, I was outside with Sable. She held the paper, ready to read off the ingredients for my makeshift healing potion, but I didn’t need the list. I felt what was needed.

I found the crowded everlass exactly as I had left it. I’d never actually used it before. I stared at it for a moment.

“But Finley—”

“I know, Dash. I know. It’s just that…”

I couldn’t explain it. I couldn’t put to words the rightness of this feeling. It was crazy, this idea. Risky. But something about it felt right.

This plant could act as a poison because it was so potent. It attacked the body. But what if that only happened when it didn’t have a strong enough ailment to fight? What would it do if introduced to the system of someone who’d been dosed with a poison that ate through flesh and blood?

Everlass’s main goal was to heal. Sometimes it wasn’t enough, so someone had figured out a way to make it more potent. The unfortunate side effects of using too much crowded everlass, or not using it on a big enough job, was…death.

This was as big of a job as they came.

“Goddess help me.” I closed my eyes and brushed my hands over the plant. “I need help here. He’s one of your own. How much do I use?”

I ran my fingertips across its leaves. Then under, by the stem. A soft feeling drifted through me. Peaceful, almost.

I remembered the song that Nyfain had sung.

Without a moment to spare, I ran into the house and crouched by his head. He was shaking and covered with perspiration. Hannon looked grim. That was a very bad sign.

“Nyfain.” I rested my hand on his bare shoulder, covered in scars.

He jolted. “Finley,” he breathed.

“I need you to sing that song. The everlass song, remember? When we were harvesting? I need you to sing that song for me.”

His lips barely moved. His voice came out wobbly at first, but it grew stronger as it rose and fell in that beautiful symphony.

“How bad?” I asked Hannon. “How close to death?”