Page 151 of Nightshade

“Hey!” I lurched after them, hesitating at first on seeing the open woods beyond and the malevolent darkness within. Resigned, I followed anyway, and found myself standing in the thick of quiet woods, neither of the two in sight. “Alicia!”

I turned around, scanning my surroundings, horrified when not even the lights of the party were visible any longer. “Hello? Alicia?”

“You shouldn’t interfere,” a raspy voice answered, and I whorled back around, searching the darkness for it. “Our laws have purpose.”

“Who are you? Show yourself.”

“Who are you? You came with Mister Van Croix, I saw that much. Yet … I also saw you shiver at the door. Just as you shiver now.”

“And?”

“Only living things shiver.”

Living things. In spite of the creepy nature of his voice, the comment put me at ease. “You sense that I am living?”

“Of course. Intortui have a certain intuition. It’s why we are feared by so many. Your shivering is like a fly vibrating a spider’s web.”

“I would be inclined to shiver less, if I could see your face.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Why?” When he didn’t answer, I glanced around again, searching for the crowd, listening for them. “What is your name, at least?”

“Tartys.”

“Tartys,” I echoed. “Why can I no longer hear the crowd?”

“You are drugged.”

“Pardon?”

“The drink you were handed earlier.”

Frowning at that, I shook my head. “I never drank it.”

“You smelled it. That is how it gets into your system.”

No wonder it’d smelled delicious. “I don’t feel out of sorts.”

“No. That’s the unfortunate beauty of it. You wouldn’t even know you’d inhaled it.”

“The girl who was taken into the woods. Do you know where she is?”

“Performing her duties. It is what females here are required to do. I can offer you protection, though.”

“Protection?” I asked, trying to determine the direction of his voice.

“Hide you away, so you’re not picked up and claimed by another. It is a sad life for those who are taken here. But you would be free to come and go. Your own free will.”

“And how could you guarantee my protection?”

From somewhere above, out of the darkness, a thin gossamer of moonlight shone down, and a short man with a hunchback and deformities stepped into the light. “I am afflicted with bullio. No one comes near me.”

The painful looking contortion of his spine and neck left me inwardly cringing at the sight of the poor man. “I need to get my hands on a nightshade flower. Can you help me?”

“Of course,” he said, rubbing his crooked hands together. “I know precisely where to find them.”

“And what is it you’re asking in return?”