known which room I’d be in.”
“Amora.” Vataea’s voice is tense now, her eyes on the stairs. “She said they communicated through mind speak.”
The implication in those words stills me. Dread sinks its way from my fingers to my toes, and my grip on Rukan falls lax.
“We need to get out of here.” The merchant hadn’t been lost through the jungle after all. She’d been stalling. “V, Shanty, go!” These tight quarters are the last place we can afford getting sucked into a fight.
The girls don’t hesitate. They sheathe their weapons and dart for the stairs, and I jerk Rukan back from the merchant, whose head falls back with a cold, pained laugh.
“I’d always heard our queen was vicious,” she snarls. “I should have given that customer a stronger poison.”
I leave her on the floor and take hold of the oil lamp.
“We’re not going without you,” Vataea warns from the base of the stairs, beside a fidgeting Shanty who very much appears to be having a mental struggle over that promise. “What are you doing?”
I look to the wall of powders and poisons. I might not be able to stop these poisons from being made, but I can certainly stall their sales.
“If you make it out of here alive, good luck cutting off your own hand,” I tell the merchant. “That’ll be the only way to stop the poison.”
The woman stumbles to her feet, rivulets of fresh blood trailing like wine from her fingertips. She makes a choking sound as I kick the shelves, letting the vials fall and shatter.
I don’t turn to look at her horror. Instead, I send a prayer to the gods, toss the lamp onto the leaking poisons, and turn to run as fast as my legs will carry me, pushing Shanty and Vataea ahead. Thankfully it takes longer than I expect for the poisons and oil to catch fire, but the explosion nearly knocks the ground out from under my feet when I’m halfway up the steps. One of us screams in the darkness, and the next thing I know the blackness is awash in snarling red flames.
The merchant stumbles after us as Vataea kicks open the makeshift door, pushing open the trunk. She reaches for Shanty and me, dragging us out. I barely have time to pull the merchant through before Vataea slams the door back shut as if in hope to snuff out the fire.
Rukan’s poison is tearing its way through the woman; navy lines make a feast of her skin, devouring her fingers and spreading through her arms. If she’s to save her life, she’ll need to work fast. But beyond pulling her out before the flames could make a meal of her, I’m through helping. She dug this grave herself.
At some point in our distraction, Shanty’s enchantment wore off. I don’t notice until she stumbles to me and lets the warmth of her magic settle into my skin like melting candle wax, coughing. In my periphery I see she’s made my hair appear to be a warm copper red, and has tightened it back into curls. From where she touches, I know she’s altering the shape of my jaw and my nose before masking my clothing.
Her work with Vataea is swift, making the mermaid’s face smaller and rounder, and her hair a warm brown. She works on herself last, aging her skin, tiring it with heavy bags under her eyes, and lightening her hair to a short crop of gray.
“You horrify me,” I tell her as I get my bearings. My eyes sting from smoke and poison, whether from last night or from breathing in fumes, I can’t be sure. “The boys’ disguises will have worn off as well. We need to hurry, and—”
A blow to my face strikes hard, making me stumble. Gasping, my hand flies to my aching jaw on instinct, anticipating blood. But there’s nothing there, and no threat stands before me.
“Did anyone see—”
Another blow. This time it knocks the wind from my lungs, and I clutch my arms tight around myself, hunting for the source through watering eyes.
Realization strikes a beat too late. My breaths hitch into sharp, tiny breaths. It’s not me who’s being hit—it’s Bastian.
“The boys are in trouble.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Though my body protests, aching with pain that’s not my own, I force my burning legs into a sprint. Neither of the girls asks questions, keeping close as I break through the jungle. Unlike on our way in, I’m not lost. My soul knows where to go;