Maria V. Snyder Collection: Poison Study. Maria Snyder V.
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He paused with a foot on the first step.
“My antidote.”
“Of course.” He continued up the steps.
While he was upstairs, I wondered how many times in the future I would have to ask for the antidote. The knowledge that it was keeping me alive poisoned my mind as surely as the Butterfly’s Dust poisoned my body.
As the early morning light brightened, I thought of my bed with longing. Valek could sleep, but I had to taste the Commander’s breakfast soon.
Valek came downstairs. Handing me the antidote, he said, “You might want to wear your hair down today.”
“Why?” I ran my fingers through my hair. The ribbons I had braided were torn and knotted.
“To cover the marks on your neck.”
Before going to the Commander’s office, I hurried to the baths. I had just enough time to wash and change into a clean uniform before I had to appear at breakfast. The garrote had left a bright red ring around my neck that I couldn’t cover no matter how I styled my hair.
On my way to the Commander’s office, I saw Liza. She set her mouth in a firm frown and looked away when she passed. Oh well, I thought, another person I’d angered. I regretted having taken my ire out on her, but I wasn’t about to apologize. After all, she had started the argument.
Most mornings the Commander ignored my arrival. I would taste his breakfast, and then sort through his box of Criollo, randomly selecting a piece to verify that no one had poisoned it during the night. Each morning my mouth watered as I anticipated the taste of the bittersweet dessert. Its nutty flavor coating my mouth was the one pleasure I could look forward to during my day. I had argued with Valek that I should test it every time the Commander wanted some, but the Commander hoarded his supply. He rationed out one piece of Criollo after every meal. And I had heard through Rand that the Commander had already requested more from Brazell, along with a copy of the recipe from his cook, Ving.
Each morning after placing the Commander’s breakfast tray on his desk, I would pick up his daily schedule and leave without a word being uttered. But this morning, when I set the tray down, he told me to sit.
Perched on the edge of the hard, wooden chair facing his desk, I felt a feather of fear brush my stomach. I laced my fingers tight together to keep my face impassive.
“Valek has informed me that you had an incident last night. I’m concerned that another attempt on your life will jeopardize our exercise.” The Commander’s golden eyes regarded me as he sipped his tea. “You have presented Valek with a puzzle, and he has assured me that keeping you alive will aid in a speedy resolution. Convince me that you’ll be able to play fugitive without getting yourself killed. According to Valek, you failed to recognize him even after he bumped into you.”
My mouth opened, but I closed it as I considered his words. A hastily explained or illogical argument would not sway the Commander. Also, I had been given an easy out. Why should I risk my neck for his exercise? I wasn’t a skilled spy; I hadn’t been able to identify Valek even when I knew he was following me. But then again it was my neck the murderous assailants were after. If I didn’t try to draw them out on my own terms, they’d pick the time and location. I weighed the argument in my head, feeling as though I was forever on a tightrope, unable to decide which way led to the perfect dismount. Walking back and forth until some outside force came along to push me one way or the other.
“I’m new to the hunt-and-chase game,” I told the Commander. “For someone untrained, trying to spot a tail in a noisy, crowded festival is a difficult task. It’s like asking a child to run when she has just learned how to walk. In the woods, alone and trying to avoid everyone, picking up a tail will be easier and within my abilities.” I stopped. No response from the Commander, so I continued, “If we can lure this magician out, maybe we can discover why she wants to kill me.”
The Commander sat as still as a frog that watched and waited for a fly to come closer.
I played my last card. “And Valek has assured me he will be following.”
My use of the Commander’s word was not lost on him.
“We will proceed as planned. I don’t expect you to get far, so I doubt we’ll see this magician.” He said the word magician as if it left a foul taste in his mouth. “I do expect you to keep quiet about this entire affair. Consider it an order. You’re dismissed.”
“Yes, Sir.” I left his office.
I spent the remainder of the day collecting and borrowing provisions for the exercise, which was scheduled to begin the next morning at dawn. I visited Dilana’s workroom and the smithy. Just mentioning Valek’s name produced remarkable results from the blacksmiths, who hurried to procure the items I said Valek needed.
Dilana would have given me anything I requested. She seemed disappointed that I only wanted to borrow a leather backpack.
“Keep it,” she had said. “No one has claimed it. It’s been underfoot since I started.”
I kept her company as she mended uniforms, told me the latest gossip and fussed about how I needed to eat more.
My last stop was the kitchen. With the hope of finding Rand alone, I waited until after the staff had cleaned up dinner. He was standing at a counter, working on menus. Each week’s menus had to be approved by the Commander before Rand could give them to Liza, who made sure the required food and ingredients were available.
“You look better than I feel,” Rand said in a soft tone. He held his head like a full cup of water, moving slowly as if to avoid spilling over. “I don’t have anything for you to taste today. I haven’t had the energy.”
“That’s okay.” I noted his white face and the dark smudges under his eyes. “I won’t keep you. I just need to borrow some things.”
Interested, Rand almost returned to his jovial self. “Like what?”
“Bread. And some of that glue you invented. Medic Mommy used it to seal a cut on my arm. It’s wonderful stuff.”
“The glue! One of my best recipes yet! Did she tell you how I discovered it? I was trying to make an edible adhesive for this mammoth, ten-layer wedding cake and—”
“Rand,” I interrupted, “I would love to hear the story, and you must promise to tell me another time. But we’re both short on sleep.”
“Oh, yes. You’re right.” He pointed to a stack of loaves and said, “Take what you need.”
While I collected bread, he rummaged around in a drawer, then handed me a jar of white glue.
“It’s not permanent. The glue will stick for about a week then it loses its grip. Anything else?”
“Um. Yes.” I hesitated, reluctant to make my last request, which was my main reason for wanting to be alone with Rand.
“What?”
“I need a knife.”
His head jerked. I could see a spark behind his eyes as the memory of how I had killed Reyad flashed through his mind. I saw the gears in his head turning as he weighed our fledgling friendship against this unusual request.
I fully expected him to question me as to why I needed a knife. Instead he asked, “Which one?”
“The scariest-looking one you’ve got.”
14
THE NEXT MORNING, I headed out the south gate just as the sun crested the Soul Mountains. Soon a glorious sweep of sunlight rushed over the valley, indicating the start of the Commander’s exercise. My heart pulsed with excitement and fear. A strange combination of feelings, but they fueled my steps. I scarcely felt the weight of my backpack.
I had worried that the items contained in my knapsack