A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #2)(9)

“How are you going to transport all of that? How is he going to?”

“I’ll stow everything in a big bag for his dragon’s mouth. Might take a few trips, but it’ll be fine.”

He gave me a flat stare. “I told you so.”

“He’s not playing games. He really is making good on his promises.”

“Whatever happened to you hating him?”

I scowled. “Don’t worry. Give me five minutes in his presence, and I’m sure I will go right back to hating him. His personality is hard to take.”

“Uh-huh. Well, you should check on Dad. He’s plateauing. He’s weak as a kitten and groggy, but that’s to be expected, given how long he was on the brink.”

“I checked on him earlier. There are no visible signs of the sickness, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there in small amounts. It’s impossible to tell if he’s been cured without more time. I’m going to work on a weaker elixir tomorrow for Old Man Fortety down the street. He’s not nearly as far along as Dad, and he’s been asking all his neighbors to just kill him off before he starts wetting the bed. I figure he’ll let me try out a new concoction on him if I promise it might finally end his suffering. I just won’t tell him which type of suffering I mean.”

Hannon cracked a smile. “Wise. What time are you headed to the field tonight?”

My pulse fluttered. “Not sure. I need to check Nyfain’s chart. Late, though. I’ll go to bed early.”



A night bird cried out a warning as I worked my way through the Forbidden Wood. Gnarled trees lurked in the darkness, shadowy shapes hunkering by the small trail. Stars crowded the sky, but a slice of pale moon only gave weak light. My animal was right near the surface, helping me discern any dangers that might be hiding nearby. So far, Nyfain had stayed true to his word. The way was clear.

The enchanted birch rose in front of me, and everything in me said to go around it. It had been drilled into my head from an early age that to set foot in this wood was death. To get out was lucky. The tree’s habit of shaking like some clown on drugs was not great for my comfort level. But Nyfain had said he’d run to help if he thought I was in danger. Plus, I had a shiny new dagger, thirsty for demon creature blood. Or maybe that was just my animal.

The tree started up like a dancing girl trying to shake her boobs out of her dress as I ducked around it and darted to the bush. Nyfain’s smell zinged through me, heavy in the area. It wasn’t as fresh as it had been yesterday, but it was more plentiful. He’d lingered.

I reached into the bush and then yanked my hand back. The yellow package had been filled again.

Biting my lip, suppressing a smile, I hooked my fingers through the brown string and carefully dragged it out. I pulled at the end and then disentangled it off the package. Another parchment lay folded up inside, over an additional leather-bound book. My stomach fluttered.

His writing was not nearly so delicate this time. A bit of a mess, really, as though he’d brought the supplies and written it here, crouched down next to the bush.



Dear Finley,

I remembered seeing a romance novel in your house, grouped with the book on our people’s history and poison trees, and wondered if maybe action/adventure wasn’t within your interests. I therefore brought you a book from my mother’s section of the library.

Such stories were not allowed by my father, so it was essential they be kept in a secret room accessed by a hidden door. They were snuck in from travelers, sold to her by merchants in whispered deals, sent by her sisters, and pulled from libraries in the villages. She now has quite the collection.

I have not read any of them. Should you wish to provide some guidance, I’d be happy to explore them with you. I’ll choose something for you, and you can choose something for me. Attached is a sampling of titles. If you recognize any good ones, I’ll start there. We can compare notes, if you’d like. Scholar to scholar, as it were.

If I may be so bold, I’d like to inquire after your father.

Yours truly,

-N



I pulled out this volume and noticed there was extra parchment and a fountain pen stashed beneath it. I smiled to myself and pulled it out, sitting back against the birch, whose antics had simmered down, and spread a piece of parchment over the smooth surface of the book.



Dear Dickhead N,

Lovely to hear from you. My father is doing well, actually. Really well! I took what I learned from you and applied it to what ails him. He’s weak and a little muddled, but speaking well, not coughing, and awake. If not a cure, it is at least a huge advancement. We’ll keep watching him to see. So I may have a way to slow the progress of the sickness and bring people back from the brink of death. Only time will tell whether there is a cure in the mix. I’m about to try the crowded nulling elixir on my neighbor, so we’ll see if I’m a healer or a murderer.

In my other letter, I detailed the purpose of the enclosed elixirs and how to make them. These are samples of each. I have more, but they were too heavy to bring all at once.

Now, on to important matters. I’ve already finished the book you lent but intend to do a reread. It’s very exciting!!! (I nearly put four exclamation points, but there wasn’t even a little romance, so that diminished my excitement just a smidge.) I like all books, so if you have any about poison mushrooms or anything, those are great, too. I just don’t get through them as quickly as fiction.