“Romy! Hey! I was wondering—”
I grab hold of his scrawny arm and yank him into my tent.
“Did I do somethin’ wrong?” His eyes widen with panic.
“No. But I don’t have much time, so I need you to shut up, listen, and answer my questions concisely, okay?”
“What does that word mean—”
“Shortest answer possible. Got it?”
He opens his mouth, but then firmly clamps it shut and nods.
“How did you get the poison? Was that story about the peddler giving it to you to repel immortals the truth?”
He falters.
“Pan.” I glare at him, running out of patience, an invisible clock ticking in my ear.
“I got it from a friend of a friend.”
I wait a beat. “Okay, I need a little more info than that. Who offered it to you? Why? Where were you?”
He swallows hard. “So, I was out back of the smithy’s shop. It was two days after my ma died, and Oswald made me chop wood all day until my hands were covered in blisters. Merita, one of the ladies from the bakery down the street, came by with some bread. She was a good friend of my ma’s, and she knew Oswald probably wouldn’t feed me. We got to talkin’ about how horrible he was and all the things he’d done to my family and me over the years, and how he shouldn’t be able to have any more tributaries, but no one would stop him. So then Merita said I should stop him, that my ma would be proud of me for doin’ it. So I said, ‘How?’ And she told me about a guy named Colgan at the butcher and a poison he could give me.” He shrugs. “I thought about it for a few days and then thought about my sister and my ma, and decided, yeah, Oswald needs to be stopped. So I went in and told this Colgan guy that Merita sent me, and he pulled out a small vial and told me to open my mouth.”
“Just like that?”
“For a few coins that I got out of the river. People like tossin’ money in for wishes.”
“That’s why you were at the river.” Of course, someone would look for ways to make a profit. I can’t blame them. They’re taking a huge risk, an instant death sentence if they’re caught. “They’re mortals, Merita and Colgan.”
He nods. “Probably long gone now, though, after the whole thing in the square.”
If they have any common sense, yeah; otherwise they’ll be executed. Zander should probably send word to Rengard with those names, anyway.
“You knew it was poison. They told you the truth about that.”
“Yeah …” He scratches his head. “But I didn’t know about the whole screamin’ thing.”
“And what were you planning on doing once Oswald fed on you?”
He shrugs. “Hightail it outta there and pray I didn’t get caught.”
This is how the Ybarisans are spreading the poison. Tyree said they were targeting anyone tired of losing family, and they’re using mortals to focus on people who might not be the brightest but have been mistreated by their keepers.
The fact that at least some of these poison dealers are charging money for it might work to our advantage. I would venture a guess most of these mortals can’t afford the price and might not have a wish river to steal from. It won’t stop them forever—where there is a will, there is a way—but it could slow down the distribution.
If the poison made it to Bellcross, there’s no way Norcaster isn’t already full of it, along with plenty of valuable information someone like me could get.
There’s no doubt in my mind anymore.
“Were you heading to the horses?”
“Yeah, I always check on ’em at night.”
“How close is the guard?”
His boyish face furrows with deep thought. “Maybe forty paces?”