Five Dark Fates (Three Dark Crowns #4) - Kendare Blake Page 0,7
would think she was someone important.” Luke clears his throat, and she knows that Cait and Ellis are there.
“We wanted to wait,” she says to Cait. “But we didn’t know if you would be able to come.”
“Your letter reached us,” Cait says. “That is what matters. What of her sister? Has no one told Caragh?”
“I sent a letter to the Black Cottage, but—” Arsinoe shakes her head. “Maybe travel is slower . . . with the baby. . . .” She closes her mouth and looks to Ellis. Cait will be all right. She was made to bear. But Ellis—gentle, scholarly Ellis—he has doted on Madrigal since the day she was born.
In the crowd, Arsinoe spots a slew of familiar faces. A few of the Paces, and the Nicholses. Shad Millner and his seagull. Even Madge, who sold the best stuffed fried oysters in the Wolf Spring market. And Matthew. Of course Matthew.
“Matthew,” she says when he sees her, and he walks forward and scoops her up, almost like he did when she was a child.
“Hello, kid,” he says, and sets her back down on her feet. He wipes a tear from her cheek with his thumb and adjusts the knot of her crimson scarf.
Billy returns to the table with food and greets them all, especially Matthew, who he views as extended family through his connection to Joseph. His eye lingers on the crow on Cait’s shoulder. “Is that Aria?” he asks, speaking of Madrigal’s familiar.
“No,” Cait replies. “This is Eva. Aria flew away from the smoke. Where is Jules? In your letter you said she was unhurt but still unwell. What did you mean?”
Arsinoe rises. “I’ll take you to see her. But only you two,” she adds when Luke and Matthew move to join them. It would be too difficult for Luke to see her in that state, and Matthew—Matthew looks too much like Joseph. She does not want to think about how Jules would react if she opened her eyes and saw Joseph’s face. As Arsinoe and Billy escort Cait and Ellis from the hall, she stiffens with sudden realization.
“He doesn’t know.” She grasps Billy’s arm. “Matthew and the Sandrins, they don’t know about Joseph. They don’t know that he’s dead!”
“Dead?” Ellis exclaims as Billy shushes them both.
“I’ll tell them,” he says. “He was my brother, too, in a way. And I can describe what happened as well as you can.”
“Tell them where he’s buried,” Arsinoe says hurriedly. “Tell them about the headstone, the inscription—”
“I’ll tell them everything. Go. Take them to see Jules.”
Arsinoe nods and leads them on, almost in a daze. As they make their way up the stairs to the tower, she tries to prepare them for what they will find, telling them as gently as she can what happened: how the legion curse was cut free when Madrigal died and what a violent reaction it sparked in Jules.
“She might not even be awake,” she warns. “The tonics I craft to keep her calm sometimes make her sleep during the day.”
“The tonics you craft,” Cait repeats. “So the rumors are true. Our naturalist queen was only ever a poisoner.”
Arsinoe pauses with her hand on the door. “You raised a naturalist, and a naturalist I will always be. Though I do feel better about never being able to grow anything.”
To her surprise, Cait chuckles. “True. But we never schooled you in poisons, Arsinoe, as we didn’t know. Is it safe, what you’re doing?”
Arsinoe swallows. Safe? Nothing about the ingredients she must use feels safe. If she is not extremely careful in her measurements, Jules could simply stop breathing. But in Arsinoe’s use of it, she has discovered that there is an instinctual aspect to the poisoner gift. Her hands are always sure. She blends the tonics as if in a trance. But that would be difficult to explain to a naturalist. “There’s a healer here who fills in the gaps that my gift doesn’t.”
She opens the door of the outer chamber, and they go inside. At the sight of Cait and Ellis, Camden rises on her three good legs and grunts softly.
“You’re happy to see us at least,” says Ellis as he goes to her and strokes her soft, golden fur. “Shouldn’t she be with Jules?”
“It isn’t always safe. Camden is violent when Jules is unwell. And Jules . . . hurt her when the curse was cut free.” Cait and Ellis frown; for a naturalist, there are few crimes worse than the abuse of a