A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #2)(84)

“Why?” Hannon moved into the kitchen and reached above the cabinets to a jar on the top. A little skull was affixed to it. “I realize not everyone can make it, but there should be enough of them to ensure it won’t be in short supply if Nyfain comes through with everlass.”

“That’s just it.” I took the jar. “They aren’t even giving out the recipe! They’re actively hoarding it.”

“But…why? Aren’t people sick?”

“Yes! Honestly, I have no idea—”

“Power.” Hadriel walked through the opened back door. His pocket hung down, ripped from the rest of the jacket. He had another tear along his thigh. “Holding the elixir gave them power over others. But Finley has just stripped them of their power and claimed it all for herself.”

Hannon gave Hadriel a once-over, lingering on the slippers. One was missing.

Hadriel noticed and pointed back the way he’d come. “The fucking fence, am I right? What’s the problem with using doors? I don’t stand out that much. Not in a place where people feel comfortable wondering aloud if the royal healer is lending out her body to the demon king as a means of paying rent.”

Hannon quirked an eyebrow.

“It’s nothing. Don’t mind him.” I gave a dismissive wave. “How is Phyl? I told him I’d make him elixir, and then fucked off.”

“Well, actually, you allegedly got eaten, but close enough,” Hannon said. “We’re taking care of it. Sable collects the leaves from the field in the Forbidden Wood, and Dash makes the elixir. She can’t go at night, obviously, and Dash is not as good as you, but it’ll have to do. Nyfain is continuing to tend that field, so we have plenty for the village. We have a few people who are dwindling, though.”

“What about Father?” I chanced a glance at the back bedroom, not having done it sooner because I was a coward.

A smile spread across Hannon’s face, and something loosened in my middle.

“He’s right as rain, Finley. He’s making a full recovery! He’s obviously weak from lying in bed for so long, and his lungs still aren’t quite right, but he is at the market now, selling a pelt he made. Nyfain has been keeping us in plenty of meat.”

“Oh good,” I said on a release of breath. “Thank the goddess. It works, then. The crowded everlass actually cures.”

“Wait…” Hadriel stepped closer and leaned in. “What’s this now? You have an actual cure?”

“It’s looking like it, but it’s dangerous. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to make and distribute it just yet.”

“But…a cure.” Hadriel continued to stare. “Does Nyfain know?”

“Not conclusively.” I looked at the top of the cabinet. “How much dried everlass do you have, Hannon? The regular kind. I’ll take what I can. You can easily dry more, since you know how to work with it.”

Hannon pulled out a box, took out a few leaves, and held the rest out. “Given Dad doesn’t need it anymore, we’re just the emergency fund at this point.”

“Well, tickle my balls, your family is incredibly giving,” Hadriel said. “How are you real? This was never the way before the curse. Not that I knew of, at any rate.”

“Who is he again?” Hannon asked.

“The mediocre butler. Long story. Thanks, Hannon. Also…” I glanced around. “What are you doing right now? There’s a village in very bad shape, and you know my bedside manner…”

Without a word, he walked to his bedroom.

“Deliberation before the verdict, I like it,” Hadriel said, watching him go.

“He’s just getting his stuff. He doesn’t waste energy on idle chitchat, unlike someone I know…”

“The master, then? Is that who you’re talking about? I know. That guy just will not shut up. If growls were words, you know what I’m saying?”

I chuckled as Hannon returned wearing a light jacket discolored in places, worn shoes, and two-day-old scruff on his face.

“At least he’ll blend in if shit goes sideways,” Hadriel muttered.

“In that place, I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.” On our way out, I told Hannon what Chrystal had said to me.

“She’s been visiting the pub a lot lately. New demons moved in, realized the space was unoccupied, and decided to stay. They came from some other village, I guess. I don’t know which one. They aren’t used to so many people ignoring them.”

“The draught?” Hadriel asked. I nodded.

“They’ve been pushing their…magic on people pretty hard,” Hannon continued as we reached the fence in the backyard. “Some people are getting a little weird around here.”

“You have no idea, Hannon.” I motioned Hadriel up. “Come on. Chop, chop.”

He sighed dramatically, jumped, and caught the lip of the fence. He labored to pull himself up, scrabbled with his feet, and lost the other slipper.

“Ouch!” he hollered. “I think I got a splinter!”

Hannon put his hand on Hadriel’s butt and pushed him to the top. I reached up and shoved him over. Hannon threw the slipper after him.

Hadriel hollered again, ending in a grunt. “Some fucking family!”