Page 93 of A Touch of Poison
We arrived at the Hall of Healing and I scrunched my toes up inside my shoes, fighting the urge to run away.
I needed a cure. This was the only way.
So I sent Rose to wait for me at Ariadne’s, squared my shoulders, and went inside.
* * *
I didn’t knowhow much time passed, all I knew was that I staggered from the Hall of Healing, battling nausea and dizziness.
I turned corner after corner, hoping to find that same side street, but my earlier journey was a blur, and this one wasn’t much better.
The image of blood and sizzling skin. The memory of my own sobs in the treatment room, while in reality I stumbled along the road, biting my tongue.
All I could do was avoid the busier roads and keep an eye out for somewhere small to hide while I recovered.
Ahead, a bellow shattered the quiet. “Shut up!”
The few folk on the street swerved to one side, giving me a view of a man on his knees, gathering vegetables and bread from the ground. A basket of food lay on its side.
Someone must’ve knocked into him. I blocked an apple rolling down the hill with my foot and scooped it up.
Face screwing up, he curled in on himself. “Quiet!”
But the roadwasquiet.
This wasn’t so simple as I’d first thought. Was he ill—a sickness of the mind? Or maybe something magical I didn’t understand. No one stopped to help. If anything, the one passerby who did look at him wrinkled their nose in disgust.
Wary, I approached, but he seemed lost in his own world, sharp breaths hissing between his teeth. Below his pale violet hair, pain etched his features, and my chest squeezed in response. No sign of blood or obvious injury, though.
“So many,” he muttered. “Too many.”
One eye on him, muscles tight and ready to dart away, I gathered the spilled vegetables and loaf of bread and reloaded the basket.
My mind whispered, “Unsafe. Keep clear.”
Yet my heart answered, “But look at his pain. You know pain.”
The practical option would be to place the basket at his feet and continue on my way. But that felt cruel, especially with such a fresh reminder of my own agony making my fingers twitch around the basket’s handle.
This could be a distraction. If I focused on someone else, I might forget about what had just happened—for a few minutes, at least.
“Hello?” I kept my voice soft—fae hearing was sharp, after all. No response. Lightly, I nudged him with the basket. No chance of poisoning him.
Piercing violet eyes opened, the perfect match for his hair. He stared at the basket, then me as if to ask what the hells I wanted.
“Do you need some help?”
A gaggle of fae hurried past, and his face screwed up again. He gave a soft grunt but nodded. “Home. I need…Home.”
Helping the poor man get home wasn’t a great risk, and hopefully not too great a detour. I’d get rid of my pallor by the time I caught up with Rose.
He stood and hunched into the wall, half-staggering as he gestured ahead.
Besides, he’d have to be a fool to attack me when I was under the protection of the Night Queen’s Shadow. And if hewasa fool, well, I had my bow on my back and the boot pistol hidden beneath my skirts… not to mention a touch that could kill.
My throat tightened at the idea of using it. I’d spent so much time worried I was going to accidentally poison someone, it hadn’t crossed my mind to deliberately touch anyone. The rose’s death played out in my mind, and I shuddered.
“Is it far?”
