Ink, Iron, and Glass (Ink, Iron, and Glass #1)(50)
“It’s hardly your fault. And anyway, I … wasn’t thinking of Gia,” he said cagily.
“What.” Feeling light-headed, she paused to take a deep breath. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“There’s … someone else who might know him.”
Elsa was about to reply when a wave of dizziness washed over her, and she had to grab the closest bookshelf to keep herself on her feet. She pressed her other hand to her face, willing the sensation to pass.
“Are you well?” Leo said, frowning with concern.
“Dizzy, that’s all. I’m sure it’s nothing,” she said, right before her vision tunneled and the world slipped from her grasp.
*
Leo saw Elsa’s knees buckle and lunged forward to catch her before she hit the floor. He had not expected her to faint—he’d thought she was made of stronger stuff than that, even if this was her first dead body. After all, wasn’t she the one discussing immolation so casually? He patted her cheek, annoyed, trying to rouse her. This was hardly what he’d pictured when he’d thought about finally getting his arms around her. Limp and unconscious did not factor into that particular fantasy at all.
She wasn’t responding. That was when he noticed her sleeve was torn and stained. He’d assumed it was blood from the assassin’s body, but when he pulled the fabric away, it revealed a long, shallow scratch running down her forearm, where the tip of the assassin’s dagger must have grazed her. Poison on the dagger? Icy fear filled the pit of his stomach.
Leo put his fingers to her neck to check her pulse: it felt weak and thready, the rhythm uneven. Oh, God, there wasn’t much time. Think, think. He couldn’t afford to panic just now. Faraz would be his best chance for an antidote, so he had to get Elsa to the alchemy lab.
Leo yanked a handkerchief from his pocket, grabbed the assassin’s dagger, and wrapped the blade, hoping to preserve some of the poison. Then he tucked the dagger through his belt and heaved Elsa into his arms. She was small, but apparently even small people were difficult to carry when entirely limp. Adjusting his grip, he staggered out into the hall.
When he burst through the alchemy lab door and saw Faraz inside, a wave of relief flooded through him. Faraz, unlike Leo, actually kept his work space neat, so there was an empty table upon which to lay Elsa. Leo set her down gently, careful not to crack her head against the wood.
“What in the name of God is going on? Casa reported an intruder.” Faraz rushed over to look at Elsa. “Did she faint?”
“She’s been poisoned. With this.” Leo handed the dagger over to Faraz, then pulled back Elsa’s sleeve to show the cut. “We have to synthesize an antidote.”
“I’m—I’m not qualified,” Faraz stammered. “I don’t work on humans.”
“Seeing as how the only other person with alchemical talent in this house is twelve and enjoys mixing perfumes, I really do think you’re the most qualified candidate.”
Faraz gave him a wide-eyed look of horror. “I wasn’t suggesting we consult Olivia. Maybe someone at the university…”
“I hardly think a carriage ride across the campus will do her good. She hasn’t much time. Now, I can assist with whatever you need,” he said, rolling up his sleeves. “We know it’s an alchemical poison used by the Carbonari, which narrows down the possibilities somewhat, and we know it attacks the heart. So what do we do?”
Faraz unwrapped the blade, handling it with precision and care. He lifted it close to his face to give the poison an evaluative sniff, then looked at Leo. “We get to work.”
Even with Leo’s passing knowledge of Carbonari poisons, it took Faraz several minutes to narrow down the possibilities and definitively determine which agent was, even now, killing Elsa. Faraz did not waste a moment on interrogating Leo about his familiarity with the Carbonari, though Leo could see the question lingering in his friend’s eyes.
Leo took a damp cloth to Elsa’s flushed face while Faraz rummaged furiously through his supply cabinets, glass vials clinking together.
“We’ll need a chelating agent to bind the toxin,” he said. A vial fell from the shelf and crashed on the floor, spreading yellow fluid and sparkling glass shards everywhere, but Faraz ignored it. “And a cardiac stimulant to counteract the symptoms, and maybe…” His voice trailed off into mutterings Leo couldn’t quite hear.
Precious minutes ticked by while crystals were dissolved and liquids were boiled and distilled and mixed together. Leo didn’t quite follow every step, but he decided not to ask Faraz to waste time explaining anything to him.
“Come on, come on,” Leo muttered, checking Elsa’s pulse again. “Can’t you work any faster?”
“Of course,” Faraz snapped with uncharacteristic sarcasm. “There’s a much faster way to do it, but I decided to take the leisurely route just to drive you insane.”
Leo winced.
Faraz’s hands were steady as he grabbed the neck of a glass flask with metal tongs and moved it away from the burner flame, but tension pulled at the corners of his mouth and his gaze turned intense. Even Skandar seemed to pick up on his stress and crawled into the narrow space underneath a cabinet to hide.
The seconds passed like hours. At long last, Faraz held up a glass test tube and met Leo’s gaze.