shelf to shelf, trying to ignore Ashlinn’s cries. Blackthorn. Brightstone. Charcoal. Fawn poppy. All of them, beakers, tubes, pots, and urns, all of them empty. He was hurling the spotlessly dry flask of rosecream onto the floor, glass shattering, as the doors slammed open. Mia stood on the threshold in a slip of black, eyes bright and wide, hair mussed from sleep.
Ash was curled into a ball, blood on her lips. “M … Mia-a…”
“Ashlinn?”
“SHE’S POISONED!”
“With what?” she demanded, eyes turning to Tric.
“EVERSHADE! MAYBE HALF A DRAM!”
“Well, get the fucking milk thistle!” she shouted, dashing toward the shelves and shouldering him aside.
“IT’S EMPTY, MIA!”
“Fawn poppy, then! Or—”
“EMPTY! ALL OF THEM ARE EMPTY!”
“That’s impossible!” Mia spat, searching the shelves, elbow-deep in glassware. “Spiderkiller kept this place in perfect order, there’s no chance she just…”
“O, GODDESS, MIA…”
Tric was holding up the jar of whiteweed. The last ingredient that could save Ashlinn’s life. Unlike all the others, this jar had something inside it. A dark shape, fat and hairy, peering out at him with empty black eyes. A gloating, vengeful farewell from the Shahiid of Truths.
A spider.
“O, no…,” Mia breathed.
Spiderkiller had poisoned the Albari goldwine in the pantry before she fled. Goddess knew what else. One last bite, one last web, hoping to catch a Crow with her favorite drink. The poison worked slow enough for them to run to her hall, only to suffer one last torture in discovering the Shahiid had taken all the antidotes away.
That evil bitch.
“M-Mia…”
“Ashlinn?”
Mia ran to the girl’s side, lifted her up and cradled her head in her arms. Ash seized hold of Mia’s hand, slick with blood, tears in her eyes.
“It h-hurts.”
“O, no, no…”
Tric backed up against the wall, watching in horror. He could see the anguish on Mia’s face as she searched the shelves around her. Wide, tear-filled eyes, one long strand of black hair caught at the corner of her trembling lips. He could see the wheels at work in her head, see her pondering all the venomlore she’d mastered. She’d proved herself Spiderkiller’s finest pupil before her betrayal. One of the greatest poisoners the Church had ever produced. Surely there was something she could do …
“I can’t…,” she gasped, chest heaving as she looked into Ash’s eyes.
She sobbed, looking once more around the room for any kind of hope.
“There’s n-nothing.”
Ash grimaced in pain, even as she grinned. Teeth slicked with red.
“Bitch g-got me.”
“No,” Mia said. “No, don’t.”
Ash winced, put one bloody hand to Mia’s cheek.
“I … I’d have k-killed the sky for you…”
“No, don’t you dare say your fucking farewells to me!”
Ash squeezed her eyes shut and groaned, curling up tighter. Mia clutched her to her chest as if she were drowning and only Ash could save her, tears smudging the kohl about her eyes, running black down her cheeks. Her face was twisted in agony, in horror, pulling her girl in tight and refusing to let go.
“No,” Mia said, her voice cracking. “No, no, NO!”
The last rose as an agonized wail. The shadows began to writhe, Tric watching as the dark in the room deepened, the jars on the shelves began to tremble. Mercurio finally arrived at the Hall of Truth, gasping and red-faced, Sidonius and Bladesinger in tow. They looked on in horror as Mia held Ashlinn and screamed, screamed, as if all her world was ending.
“Mercurio, help me!”
The old man looked about the room. Saw the empty phials. The spider’s jar.
“Black Mother,” he whispered.
“Someone help me!”
Mia’s chest was heaving, grief shaking her body. She hugged Ash tighter, face twisted with helpless rage, teeth bared, fingers curled into claws. But for all her power, all her gifts, this was a foe she couldn’t best. She held on to Ashlinn for dear life, the girl’s head tucked under her chin, rocking back and forth.
“Forever, remember?” she pleaded. “Forever!”
“I’m … s-sorry.”
“No, don’t go,” Mia begged. “Please, please, I can’t do this without you!”
“Kiss m-me,” Ash managed.
A sob.
“No.”
A sigh.
“Please.”
Mia’s face crumpled, her shoulders wracked and shaking, a hollow keening spilling over her gritted teeth. Ashlinn pressed a trembling hand once more to Mia’s cheek, smudging it with red.
“Please.”
And what could Mia do, in the end?
Have her leave without saying goodbye?
And so, eyes closed, lips parted, agony and grief and endless night above, Mia Corvere kissed her love. Blood on their mouths. Tears in their eyes. A broken promise. A last caress. The shadows rolled, the darkness seethed, every jar and urn and phial on the shelves shattering as their lips met for the final time.