Mercurial Naomi Hughes (suggested reading txt) 📖

should have recharged before long and her blood certainly shouldn’t have turned red. It can’t have been the poison that did that.” But even as she spoke, she hoped she was wrong. The idea of having such an effective weapon to use against the noble class, one that could level the field between the metallurgists and Saints, was a heady thing.

“But that poison had never before been tested,” Helenia interjected. “We can’t properly know for certain how it would typically act, and whether the way it affected the Destroyer is different from that.”

Tal frowned. “Her treatments,” he said slowly. “She goes to Albinus every month for them, and she was overdue for her appointment on the train. She and Sarai try to pass the treatments off as a mere beauty regimen, but I believe it might be something more vital. Perhaps that process, or the fact that it was delayed too long, may have exacerbated the poison from Nyx or interacted with it somehow to strip her of her powers.”

“Unfortunately, we lack the information to make more than a guess,” Helenia replied.

Tal sighed and leaned back against the bedpost. “I fear you’re right. Did the Destroyer say anything else when you spoke to her?”

Helenia glanced at him. “She asked to see you. She was quite keen on it, actually.”

At this, Nyx couldn’t hold in a snarl. “Of course she wants to see him. He’s her human shield. I hope you told her the next time she sees him will be right before her head rolls, and that’s if she’s lucky.”

Tal stiffened. “The jury will decide her fate.”

“As if they’ll show her any mercy,” Nyx scoffed. “Half the Saints at the main base have lost a loved one to her. I hope she dies slowly. I hope it hurts.”

Tal’s gaze went distant. “She said that too,” he murmured, a strange look passing over his expression.

Nyx brushed his comment off, not certain who he meant and too focused on her own anger to care. “I hope they let me do it myself,” she went on.

Tal’s gaze went to her then. He reached out, gently, and touched her cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said, sounding helpless.

She blinked, startled out of her tirade. “For what?”

But he only turned away and let his hand fall.

She remembered what he had said earlier, that he had done something foolish. She realized now that he never had told her what it was. She didn’t want to push him, though, not now that she’d just gotten him back. He probably only needed time to adjust; once the Destroyer was dead, it would be easier for him to heal, and easier for him to make whatever confession was weighing on his soul. Changing the subject, she asked Helenia, “Did you speak to the physician yet about Tal’s prognosis?”

The razor paused in its movements across Nyx’s scalp. Helenia sighed. “There’s no physician stationed here, only an assistant with some medical training, but I’m afraid he didn’t have good news. The potion we had on hand was enough to heal the broken bones and most of Tal’s other injuries, but to cure the rust phage will require a more concentrated tincture than we can make.”

Nyx and Tal looked at each other for a long moment. He didn’t seem to react beyond that, but something inside Nyx coiled in fear at the pronouncement, cinching tight around her ribs. “More concentrated than we can make here, you mean, right?” she asked, hating how high-pitched her voice sounded. “We can get some at the base when we arrive?”

Helenia’s answer was soft, nearly too kind to be borne. “No. None of our copper Smiths are powerful enough to make what we need. Only the palace Smiths are—it might even be that only Albinus himself could cure him, if that. The rust phage has been absorbed into his blood already, and it seems to be a virulent strain.”

When Helenia drew the razor back for another pass, Nyx slammed the side of her palm into the nearly bedpost, making the bed shake. “Then the physician’s assistant has to be wrong. He only has a little medical training, you said. He’s unlikely to have ever even seen rust phage before, much less treated it enough to gain any real knowledge of it. The copper Smiths at the main Saints facility will be able to do better. I’m sure of it.” But her voice cracked, betraying her fear.

Helenia only squeezed Nyx’s shoulder, turning a sympathetic look on Tal, who still hadn’t reacted other than looking a bit grimmer than before. “I’m sorry.”

Nyx swallowed. “We’ll… we’ll stage a theft at the palace, then, to get more potions. We need to plan a rescue anyway, if Mother and the other Saints who were imprisoned on the train are being held there.”

“You know the Saints will have to vote on that. They may not want to commit so many resources to a rescue.”

Helenia made one final sweep of the razor. A cascade of short black curls rained down across Nyx’s forehead and into her lap and she swept them onto the floor in one violent motion. “I don’t care what they say. I’ll go alone if I have to.”

Tal’s hand was suddenly tight around her wrist. “No, you won’t,” he said, his gaze intense. “Not for me. Never again for me.”

She wrenched her arm away. “You do not get to decide who can and can’t risk their life for the people they love. I swear I will see you alive and well and free of your oath if it’s the last thing I do.” He had nothing to say to that, but only stared at her, his eyes pleading. She crossed her arms. “Put away that sad, stoic look,” she told him. “It doesn’t work on me.”

Helenia set the razor down atop the dresser and pulled a broom from the corner. “If you two are ready, we really should get going. That is, if you’re feeling well enough to travel, Tal?”

He was still looking