The Everlasting Rose (The Belles, #2)(45)

“I can’t,” Valerie replies. “I need to rest for a minute.”

“Ada, find some sangsues,” Edel says.

I glance up at the hourglass in the room, the sand racing from one side to the other. We don’t have much time left to get to the boat.

Edel grabs a cloth from the water basin on the side table and drapes it across Valerie’s forehead. “Only for a few minutes, then we have to go.”

“Valerie, I have a question.” The poison in my pocket almost hums, full of power. “When you looked after the Belle babies, how were they grown? Did Du Barry let you see?”

“Why?” she says.

“Sophia is making more Belles, and I need to know how, so we can stop her.”

“She kept two nurseries at home. One for the Gris babies born in the maternity rooms, and one for us.” She coughs, then continues, “Sometimes she’d stay up all night, and I’d sneak into the Belle-nursery to see what she was doing. She’d bring a new crying baby inside after the evening star rose.”

“Did you find out where they came from?”

Valerie nods. “She digs us up.”

“What?” Edel and I say in unison.

“Well, some of us,” she pants. “Out of the dark forest. I saw her from the nursery window.”

“So much for falling from the sky,” Edel snaps.

“No. That’s true.” Valerie takes a deep and labored breath. “But only one Belle falls. She plants the rest—the favored generation, at least, is grown that way.” Her voice grows weaker. “I don’t know how she makes the others.”

I squeeze her hand and reach in my pocket to wrap my fingers around the poison bottle. “One last question before we try to move you again. Do you think Belle babies can be born without their gifts?”

Edel eyes me curiously.

“Why would you want that?” Valerie asks.

“Yes, why?” Edel adds.

“Sophia plans to sell Belles to the highest bidder,” I tell her. Valerie’s mouth goes slack with horror. “If we could save the next generation from this fate—”

“Then they could all live normal lives,” Edel finishes, nodding in agreement with my line of thought.

I show them the poison bottle. “This might take away the arcana. But I wouldn’t know how to administer it. Do you think you could help?”

Valerie’s eyes bulge as she runs shaky fingers across the blue bottle. “I believe so....” Valerie starts to drift off.

“Valerie! Valerie. Stay with us,” Edel says, rubbing her shoulder.

“Should we try to move her again?” I ask, watching Valerie’s eyes flutter.

“Let’s check her levels. She’s so weak, we might have to cover her in sangsues in order to get her strong enough to move.” Edel turns to the side table and retrieves an arcana meter. She plucks needles from the base compartment of the machine and takes Valerie’s arm; it’s a pale brown branch draped across her lap. Valerie’s blood barely fills three vials and slides into the arcana meter’s slots.

I hold my breath as I watch Valerie’s blood swirl through those chambers. The red liquid bubbles and churns. I wonder what her blood proteins look like now. I wish I could see them beneath Mr. Claiborne’s optic-scope. My stomach flip-flops as the numbers begin to illuminate, and reveal her levels.

MANNER: One and a half.

AURA: One.

AGE: Zero.

A knot forms in my throat. She barely has any arcana proteins left in her blood. They are almost gone. This is what will happen to the Belle babies if the poison is successful. Can we survive without our gifts from the Goddess of Beauty? Will she be able to recover?

There’s a crash downstairs. “Time to go,” Edel says. “We have to move her.”

Edel tries to lift Valerie again. I pocket the bottle and help hold up the right side of Valerie’s body. She cries out with pain. Edel tries to wipe away a falling tear, but her fingers miss it.

“If she can’t walk, we’ll be caught,” I reply, trying to hide the panic in my voice. “Ada, can you go get the Fashion Minister and bring him to us? We need him.”

Fear consumes Ada’s face.

I rush to her and take her hands. “He’s on our side. He’s going to help us.”

“What about me?” she asks. “You can’t just leave me here.”

“We won’t. I promise,” I say. “Is anyone else here? More Belles?”

“Yes, they’re chained on the fourth floor. If I’m not back in a quarter of an hourglass, then...”

“You won’t have to worry about that. Just go.”

Ada rushes out. We shift Valerie upright, her legs hanging off the bed.

“Good. Almost up,” I say. “Just a little bit more.”

The teacup dragons shift inside my waist-sash, peeking out, and the dagger at my hip shifts, a half-moon hooked at my side.

“What are those?” Valerie asks.

“Teacup dragons.”

“I thought they didn’t exist. Du Barry said...” Drool dribbles from her lips.

“Du Barry told us a lot of things,” I reply, wiping her face. “They were given to me to help us.”

She runs her fingers along their noses as they lick her, then she touches the dagger sheath Rémy gave me.