looked for Mama or you or Auntie Audrey,” Juniper said, her lip wobbling and tears leaking out again, “but they made Cora walk too fast. And once we got up here, they gave her something to drink. She got all slow and strange, and she seemed…” Juniper hiccuped, as if this were the most terrifying part of all. “She seemed scared. But Cora isn’t scared of anything.”
“Scared?” I stared at the little girl.
It was a familiar word, and I had lived with the effects of it all around me. But this was something else—something stronger. Whatever had overtaken Cora was far more potent than mere timidity—almost as if the fear had made her give up on consciousness altogether.
Juniper had said Cora wasn’t afraid of anything, and it might seem that way to her, but Cora was normally only slightly less fearful than everyone else—she just hid it better. Well, except for Audrey—she could do with a little more fear in her life. Perhaps she had rubbed off on the haven’s proprietress. Either that or she had learned from Vilma—ready to take on a dragon, despite her age.
I frowned. Audrey. And Vilma and Gregor. Now that I thought about it, it made no sense. How had I never wondered about it before? How had Gabe never questioned it? Surrounded by meek and timid Talinosians, Audrey stood out, stark against the rest. Even Leander had commented on it.
How had Audrey—out of the whole kingdom—retained her dauntless courage? And Vilma and Gregor too.
I stared down at the sleeping Cora. They had given her something to drink…
My mind worked slowly, grasping at the pieces, until suddenly everything clicked into place in a rush. We had so many lakes in these forests because we were near the mountains—the source of the two rivers that fed Talinos. If Leander’s enchantment was something you drank, and if he put it in the water up here, it would slowly flow down to the rest of the kingdom—strongest here, perhaps, but working its enchantment everywhere.
Small pockets might escape, maybe, but not enough to make a difference. Especially not when fear was so catching.
Pockets like Vilma and Gregor who insisted on drinking the odd-tasting water from their private well. Water Vilma had shared with me today and had no doubt shared with Cora and Wren on many an occasion—both of them far too kind to refuse. And Cora and Wren had always seemed less susceptible than most. As for me, I drank largely from my enchanted lake.
Leander no doubt dosed his servants directly to ensure they remained extra compliant, but I had seen with my own eyes his mercenaries carting in large jugs to their forest hideout—no doubt full of clear water.
Palinar had its own rivers that originated in the mountains across the border, and one of those rivers fed Marin. There couldn’t be a tidier way to reach all of Talinos without touching the other kingdoms.
Clearly whatever Leander had used to dose the rivers was low in concentration, taking years to build up in the body and take effect—Gabe had been spared by spending so little time in his own kingdom. But what of Audrey?
I could think of nothing to explain her immunity. She had always refused Vilma’s offers of water, wrinkling up her nose and claiming it tasted odd. Which was ironic coming from—
I jerked upright, my racing thoughts snagging and slowing. Audrey largely drank her disgusting tea, the one only she liked, that she claimed had all sorts of healing properties. None of us had ever taken her seriously, but what if she was right? What if she had somehow found a natural substance resistant to whatever had caused this enchantment?
I ripped off my wrap, fumbling through its folds for the bag she had given me. Audrey had made me an emergency pack for the ball, and if I knew her…Yes! I pulled out a packet of the tea, the odor hitting me as soon as it broke free.
Cora stirred, muttering something inaudible in her sleep. I threw the rest of the bag aside and thrust the tea packet directly under her nose, fumbling it open and letting the leaves spill out directly onto my friend.
“What are you doing?” Juniper asked, but I ignored her, my sole focus on Cora.
Her hand moved first, fluttering to her head, and then she moaned.
“Where am I?” she asked groggily, and then memory must have returned because she sat up so sharply she fell back down again, my hands reaching out