A Touch of Poison Read online

  At some point in the pre-dawn hours, Gwen was possessed by a feeling of terror and dread that practically suffocated her, and the strangest thought forced itself into her head.

  She needed honey. Or black-current jam. Now. Or bad things would happen.

  Heedless of how her limbs felt, Gwen got out of bed, threw open her door and raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she felt mere inches away from death.

  Halfway down the stairs, she realized she’d suddenly forgotten her reason for leaving her bedroom in the first place. The urgent feeling had disappeared just as quickly as it had arrived.

  Confused, and more than a little afraid of what was happening to her, she climbed back up the stairs with agonizing slowness and returned to her room.

  Her brief sprint and sudden anxiousness made her even more tired than she already was, and she found herself unable to make it all the way to her bed, collapsing to the floor beside the door instead. Her heart, though racing mere moments ago, now felt as though it were barely beating at all.

  She was deep asleep before she’d even finished moving.

  If possible, the nightmares were even stronger this time around, with everything appearing bigger, moving faster, scenes rapidly shifting from place to place, disorienting her. For hours and hours she was eaten alive, cut into pieces, burned to cinders, and drowned. Eyes stared at her, and snarling lips pulled themselves back to reveal far too many rows of sharp, gleaming teeth. A pair of bright yellow vipers had somehow found a way inside her chest, and were desperately throwing themselves in every possible direction, trying to get out.

  A loud knocking noise at her door jolted Gwen awake, and she could hear a young girl’s fearful voice calling to her. She noticed it was morning.

  She also noticed a dragon made entirely of shadows lurking by her dresser, and spiders the size of her hand roamed the stone walls of her bedroom.

  Her nightmares had followed her into the real world.

  The knock at her door came again, more insistently this time, and Gwen could make out the words ‘feeling okay?’

  Ignoring the shadow-dragon, which was now hissing at her and bleeding liquid fire out of both eyes, Gwen opened her mouth and tried to yell the words ‘I’m fine, thank you.’ A hoarse, apologetic wheeze was all that came out. She coughed several times before trying again, and heard herself half-scream the word ‘fine!’ at the door, her voice sounding more like a raven’s than a young girl’s.

  She had to keep control, she realized. This was all just part of what was happening to her — just momentary torment she’d have to endure for a couple of days more. Rising slowly to her hands and knees from her spot on the cold floor, perspiration beading her brow and upper lip, Gwen forced herself to ignore the nightmarish apparitions in her bedroom and focus her thoughts.

  It was morning, she figured, so the girl at the door had probably been bringing her breakfast. If that was the case, she needed to get rid of it.

  Gwen half-crawled over to the door and reached up, gritting her teeth and doing her level best to ignore the fact that her ornate door handle was now a mass of writhing snakes. She grabbed it, twisted her wrist, and slowly pulled the door open.

  A bowl of porridge sat there, roaches and other armoured bugs crawling all over it, chittering noisily. Beside it was a glass of bubbling blood.

  That wasn’t real, Gwen told herself. She’d been brought her breakfast, that was all. It wasn’t a glass of blood, and those weren’t bugs.

  She steeled herself and reached out to take the shallow bowl in both hands, but when she did it felt like she couldn’t close her hands all the way, like her fingers had fallen asleep. Still on her knees, she tried several times to pick up the bowl, doing her best to keep from getting upset or frustrated at how impossible that simple task seemed to her all of a sudden.

  Eventually she opted to slide the bowl along the floor and into her bedroom. She made it almost five feet inside before the bottom of the bowl caught a groove in a rough bit of stone and sloshed half its contents onto the floor. Dozens of shiny black newts erupted from the slopped porridge and quickly scurried in all directions.

  Gwen was too tired to be upset. She could deal with the mess later. Right now she was seeing things from her nightmares, so attempting to clean things up was kind of pointless anyway. The porridge was no longer outside her bedroom door, and she hadn’t eaten any. That’s what was important.

  With agonizing slowness she crawled over to her bedside, pulling the sheets right off of her mattress so she might have something to wrap herself in. She did so, collapsed to the floor, and instantly began to shiver.

  Her bedroom door was still open, she noticed, but she was suddenly too tired to care.

  It didn’t much matter if she kept her eyes opened or closed, the nightmarish things danced around before her regardless. She lay there, musing quietly that being exhausted actually seemed to be reasonable protection against things like nightmares. It was hard to become anxious about snakes and wolves and dragons if you were too tired to be properly scared of them.

  Hours passed this way, her passively watching the horrific, macabre sights that were being offered up by her imagination. After a while, she realized she could hear some of the apparitions as well. One of them made a sound exactly like a girl’s scream.

  Eventually, she thought she could make out a gruff, angry voice spitting curses. She caught the word ‘porridge’, and another word that sounded like ‘mess’.

  Rough leather talons gripped her skin through the blanket and rolled her over, and Gwen tried to cry out. Now on her back, she opened her eyes halfway and blearily looked around her room.

  It was dark. A marmot the size of a large dog was by the door, trembling. Standing above her was a sinister-looking black lion, with curls of fur poking out at odd angles, a tarnished crown perched crookedly on its brow.

  Her father, she realized.

  Gwen quickly tried to smile and say she was just feeling a little ill, but her voice didn’t want to cooperate.

  Eyes widening, the black lion turned into a growling bear, who then reached down and pulled away a corner of her toasty warm blanket. Immediately, a horde of spiders made up of ice and snow skittered over the stone floor and began biting her arm, the icy chill of their venom making her cry out in fear.

  “Goddess! Her arms!” she heard her father’s voice gasp. “You! Fetch Captain Anifail, at once!”

  The marmot bowed and scurried away.

  Cursing and muttering under its breath, the black bear wrapped the rest of the blanket around her and picked her up with its gloved paws, depositing her roughly atop her bed. It looked at the porridge on the floor, and then back to her.

  “What in the name of the seven hells did you think you were doing?” her father’s voice roared.

  Gwen protested weakly, and tried to say she was fine… but she couldn’t tell how successful her attempts were. Really, she just wanted to sleep… that’s all she wanted to do right now. Sleep and rest.

  She felt a hard slap across her face.

  “No you don’t!” Her father’s voice snarled. “Anifail!”

  “Highness?”

  “The brat hasn’t been eating — she’s got that rash on her arms again! My study, desk drawer, bottom-left side! A leather pouch with red string around the top. Run!”

  Gwen tried to shake her head, and managed a small whimper of objection. Then, she realized she was being shaken, and an angry voice was screaming at her to stay awake.

  Before she knew it, rough hands were forcing Gwen’s jaw open, and gloved fingers hooked into the corner of her mouth and pulled it to one side. A familiarly bitter, chalky taste flooded her senses, and she suddenly realized what it was they were putting in her cheek.

  Urgently, she began thrashing around, biting at fingers, attempting to s
pit as much of the chi’darro out as she could. She heard a short hiss of surprise, and then a short time later, she heard the sound of a man screaming through violently clenched teeth. It sounded a lot like Anifail.

  “Hold her still! We’ve got to get her to eat some of it!” her father shouted.

  Cool water was poured onto her lips and face, and she suddenly found herself choking and gasping for breath, involuntarily swallowing some of the liquid that had been poured inside her cheek. Within moments there was a warmth in her stomach that began spreading up to her shoulders, and then slowly out to the rest of her.

  The nightmarish visions slowly began to recede.

  She’d failed.

  “Okay. That should be enough,” her father muttered. Then he turned his attention on her, looming over her as she lay on her bed, his face a mask of fury. “What in the name of all the gods did you think you were doing, Gwenwyn? You could have died, you stupid, stupid girl!”

  A soft, agony-filled hissing through clenched teeth could be heard coming from her doorway. Bryn looked off to one side, and his brow furrowed.

  “Right. Captain, let’s go have a look at that hand. I’ve got something in my study that’ll take the edge off, speed up the healing. You! Guards! Nobody in or out of here until I give the order. Got it?”

  Without even sparing her a glance, the king left her bedside and exited the room.

  The warm feeling she felt in her chest was growing stronger, and a euphoric bliss seemed to envelope her, promising happiness and warmth and safety.

  Despite this pervasive sense of well-being, Gwen turned over onto her side and began weeping softly into her pillow.

  Chapter 11

  “You look awful, Gwen!” said Rhosyn in a hushed voice as the two of them walked down the meadow path. “Was it really that bad?”

  “Worse,” Gwen croaked. She’d started feeling a lot better these past few days, but her voice was still rather awful-sounding, and her throat burned and itched. “You should have seen what I looked like just two days ago.”

  Rhosyn considered her friend carefully, then glanced down the trail behind them to ensure the two hooded guards weren’t within earshot. Then she gave her head a tilt and leaned in closer.

  “So, you’re escorted everywhere now?” she asked, her voice a mere whisper.

  “Anytime I want to leave the castle, yeah. It was that, or I wasn’t even going to be able to come out here and visit you.”

  “Can you try again?” she asked. “You know, giving up eating that stuff?”

  “No,” Gwen sighed. “My meals are supervised now, and the kitchen staff have all been warned that I’ll get sick again without my ‘medicine’. And honestly, I’m not even sure I could do it again. Even if I had lots of help and support, I don’t know if I could put myself through that a second time. It was pretty awful. I felt like I was dying.”

  “I wish I hadn’t found that book,” Rhosyn said, scowling slightly. “It wasn’t fair to raise your hopes like that.”

  “Nonsense, Rosie. You were looking for a cure, the same as me. Not your fault that this one didn’t work. Besides, finding that journal is still a blessing.” Gwen glanced at the two guards, and then spoke to Rhosyn in a hushed whisper. “I’ve been thinking a lot these past few days. We know what this herb looks like, right? From the drawings in that book?”

  “Right,” Rhosyn agreed.

  “And more importantly, we now know where it grows, too. I’ve checked some of these notes, and looked up some of the places on the big map in the library. Nearest is less than a week away, by horseback. They’re far, but not too far.”

  “Not too far for what, exactly?”

  “I could run away!” she said in an excited whisper. “If I do need to continue eating that stuff, I could just pack some things and sneak off to where it grows!”

  “You mean ‘we’, don’t you?”

  “What? Rosie, I can’t ask you to give up your life here,” said Gwen, shaking her head. “You’ve got the horses! You have a boyfriend, and I just couldn’t stand it if-”

  “You mean Darin?” Rhosyn’s eyes went hard. “I don’t think I’d exactly call him my ‘boyfriend’ at the moment.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think he’s trying to gather information from me,” she said, her tone becoming cold. “The night I got back, shortly after I gave you the journal, he showed up at my place. He brought dinner with him in a picnic basket, asked me how my trip was.”

  Gwen gave her friend an odd look. “But why would that make you think-”

  “Gwen, Anifail didn’t give me a chance to tell anyone I’d left. At first I thought that maybe you’d told Darin so he wouldn’t worry, but you’ve never actually met him! And even if you had, how would you have been able to tell him while under the effect of the geis sphere?”

  “Hey, and how did he know precisely when you had returned from your trip?” Gwen asked, frowning. “That does sound kind of odd, now that you mention it.”

  “Exactly. So I asked him how he’d found out I was gone to begin with. He just sorta shrugged it off, said that some friend must have told him. After that, I started paying attention to some of the things he was asking me. He wanted me to elaborate on my duties as your lady-in-waiting, and tried to get me to talk about our friendship.”

  “But why?”

  “Gwen, I’m the only friend you have. Do you seriously think a certain someone wouldn’t try to take advantage of that?”

  “You think he’s trying to find out stuff for my father?” Gwen asked, heart sinking.

  “I’m positive. I followed him for a while when he left that night. He headed towards town at first, but when he figured he was far enough from my place, he headed straight for the castle.” Rhosyn twirled a stray lock of hair unhappily. “So yeah, there isn’t exactly anything keeping me here. ‘We’ could run away from this place. You go, I go.”

  “Oh Rosie, I’m so sorry! I know how much you liked him.” Gwen pursed her lips and considered. “If you want, we can come up with a list of things to call him when you’re breaking up with him. Actually, I should see if I could get him locked up or something! That might be fun.”

  “Break up with him? Gwen, why would I do something like that?” Rhosyn asked with a smirk.

  “Because he’s using you, Rosie! That’s a horrible thing to do!”

  “So? Let’s use him right back! If he reports to the king, we can feed him any sort of lies we want! If I simply got rid of him, your father will probably just look for some other way to find out what’s going on. A way we may not know about.”

  “Ooo, that’s a good idea! If my dad thinks everything’s okay, we’ll have an easier time slipping away when it’s time to leave!”

  “Exactly,” smiled Rhosyn, though her expression was the slightest bit wistful and sad.

  Gwen didn’t really know what to say to her friend, or how to ease her obvious pain. She knew how excited Rhosyn had been when she’d first met Darin — finding out something like this had to be killing her.

  They walked in silence, the only sounds coming from the clunky armour of the two hooded guards dutifully following a dozen or so paces behind them. Eventually, Rhosyn cleared her throat, looking a bit troubled.

  “There’s only one problem I can see with this ‘running away’ plan. It’s a pretty big one though.” She gave Gwen a significant look. “You told me yourself that you started hallucinating and getting sick after missing only a couple of days of eating that herb. There’s no way you’d make it through a week of horseback riding without the stuff, is there? And if your father’s the only one who has it, then how exactly… uh—”

  Rhosyn stopped talking entirely, and considered the smile Gwen was giving her.

  “Royal study, bottom left drawer of his desk. A leather pouch tied with red cord. That’s where he keeps
it.” Gwen gave her friend a sidelong grin. “That’s the one good thing that came from everything that happened. Dad saw me, figured out what I was doing, called for Anifail, and got him to fetch a whole bag of the stuff. Mentioned exactly where he could find it, right in front of me. I don’t know if it’s his whole supply, but even a small pouch should be enough until I can locate some more.”

  “He just mentioned it in front of you? Well then, he’s probably moved it somewhere else by now.”

  “I don’t think so. He probably thinks I was too out of it to have heard him say it. Mind you, he probably wasn’t that far off the mark — I was seeing spiders on the walls at that point, and could barely stay awake. And even if he suspects I heard him, he’s way more worried that I’m trying to avoid eating that stuff right now. I doubt he’s too concerned I might go and steal a bunch of it for myself.”

  “Hmm. True,” Rhosyn agreed.

  “Plus, he’s got a lot on his mind. The wedding is happening in just a couple weeks time, and he’s been working hard to get everything ready, so he’s got to be juggling a lot of torches right now. A stash of herbs he’s got hidden in his study is probably the furthest thing from his thoughts.”

  “So if it’s in the study, how are you going to get it?”

  “I’m trying to figure that out myself, but the important thing is that we’ve got to be ready to go once I’ve found a way to grab it. I can’t just grab it now, because he’d notice it’s missing. We’ll need supplies readied first. Money, clothes, tack, things like that. I should be able to get my hands on some silver, as well as a few other things we can bring along and sell later. However, if I were seen carrying saddlebags or provisions or anything suspicious like that, word would definitely get back to the king.”

  “I’ll come up with a list, and start gathering some things,” Rhosyn said, nodding slowly. “You’ve never been on a trek like this before, but I just spent a whole week on horseback, and know just about everything we’re going to need for a trip like this. In fact, I’m still mostly packed from that last trip.”