The area was filled with unused furniture, covered in sheets. Past the cramped, relic-strewn front, there were three doors. Kryn opened the one to the left. The hinges squeaked and the bottom scraped the stone floor. More sconces came on beyond the door to reveal a cavernous space that felt like some sort of subterranean cave. The sound of trickling water came from the back.
My eyes adapted slowly to the dimly lit area, and following the sound of water, I found a pool of water that disappeared into a dark tunnel.
Kryn turned to me. “Can you work here?”
I glanced around. “I need a table, water, and a flame. The rest should be in here.” I held up the box.
“Water?” He pointed toward the pool in the back.
“Is it clean?”
“Yes. Suitable for drinking even.”
“Then it should do.”
“Good. There should be a table out here.” Kryn left the room.
I followed Cylea’s gaze and noticed a pile of chains coiled on the ground. “Those held a dragon once,” she said absently, her blue eyes scanning the large space. “They’re made from the rarest, most expensive metal known to us, and now they lay here forgotten.”
Kryn came back carrying a mid-size table as if it weighed nothing. He set it down in a corner near the door. “Here is your table. I’ll come back with the flame.” He disappeared again.
I placed the box on the table and finally opened it. I took everything out, one thing at a time, and was relieved to find everything there. In fact, there seemed to be something extra. At the bottom of the box, I found the list I’d made for Lady Thaciana. I read what she’d added under the items I jotted down.
Hemlock.
Poison? She gave me poison? Why?
Hemlock would affect the nervous system the same way stillstem did, except it was deadly, even in small amounts. I glanced over at the ingredients, which were clearly labeled, placed the hemlock back inside the box, and replaced the lid. My thoughts whirled. Lady Thaciana had deduced that I was trying to make some sort of sedative, and she thought hemlock would help. And it might, in the right dosage, except I couldn’t risk it. If I killed the Seelie Prince… I didn’t even want to think about it.
“Everything in order?” Cylea asked over my shoulder.
I startled. “Uh, yes, it is. Even the syringe.” I pointed at the all-glass and metal instrument. It looked like the old-fashioned kind, but it would do the job. Same as the flasks, tongs, mortar and pestle, dropper, leather-bound journal, and graphite the lady had provided.
“What is that for?” She watched the pointy needle distrustfully.
“It’s called a syringe. It will allow me to administer the stillstem intravenously. That way, it should have a stronger and faster effect.”
She went pale, instantly becoming one of those people who are terrified of needles. “Better Kalyll than me. How long will it take to get things ready?”
“Not long once Kryn gets here.”
She nodded. “They’d better hurry. King Elladan can be long-winded.”
Wasting no time, I got to work on the marsh flower, working it to the right consistency in the mortar and pestle. The yellow flowers were super fresh, as if they’d been recently picked.
“Can you get some water in this?” I gave Cylea one of the narrow-neck flasks.
Kryn came back shortly, accompanied by Arabis, who greeted me with a smile.
“Feeling much better.” She patted her stomach. “You’re a hell of a healer.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
Kryn placed two flat stones and a sizable oil lamp on the table. “Take your pick,” he said.
I frowned at the stones.
He picked them up. “I didn’t know if you literally needed a flame or just heat.” He knocked the two rocks together, and they began to glow. He set them back down on the table. I placed a hand over them and felt the heat slowly build. Magical heating rocks.