The Reluctant Queen (The Queens of Renthia #2)(118)

"She chose to be here," Arin said without looking up from Captain Alet's belongings.

"It's true," Mother said smugly. "Of her own free will. Not everyone thinks I'm evil."

Hamon turned to Arin. "Arin, she used one of her potions on you-"

"I know. It wore off. I know what I'm doing, Hamon."

He shook his head. She couldn't possibly understand. Even if she had shaken off the effects of whatever potion, his mother was still a terrible influence. "Oh? What are you doing?"

"I'm saving my sister." Arin lifted a black box out of a pile of clothing. Sitting back, she placed it on her lap. "I think I found it."

All three of them crowded around as she opened the box. Rows of glass vials were packed between black silk. Reaching over, Hamon's mother plucked one out. She held it up to the candlelight and shook it lightly. Amber liquid sloshed. "Interesting. Very interesting. And not part of an ordinary guard's med kit." She put it back into the box.



       
         
       
        

Hamon selected the next one. It held white crystals with gold flecks.

"Worth a fortune," Mother commented. "You know what that is?"

"Dirthium." It loosened muscles, lowered inhibitions, and caused blissful happiness, unless you took too much and then it resulted in painful death that shredded your internal organs at the same time as it messed up your sensory input. He put it back in the box.

"Your friend had a wealthy benefactor," Mother said.

"Her sister," Hamon said curtly. The dirthium was strong evidence that Alet had been telling the truth-But where's the poison?

After examining them all, they had three vials with unknown substances in them. Mother clapped her hands like a child. "Exciting! Now if we only had someone to test these on-"

"No," Hamon said. "We test them with equipment."

"Poo. You're no fun at all."

"At least one of these is deadly," he pointed out.

Mother held one of the vials up. "Ooh, or maybe all of them!" Humming happily to herself, she carried the first one to her makeshift workbench. "Just a drop, my dear," she said to Arin. "Once we've identified the compound, we'll need more to synthesize an antidote, and then more to test it. Since my son refuses to be practical . . ."

"No murder," Hamon said. "We're here to prevent death, not cause it." That was a sentence that really shouldn't need to be said out loud. Hovering, he watched his mother and the queen's sister. Mother had set herself up well, using a combination of kitchen and medical supplies to create a decent laboratory. But it was Arin who took command of it.

Arin was the one who handled the poisons.

Arin was the one who set up the experiments.

Arin was the one who stayed calm, steady, and serious while Hamon hovered over her and Mother issued directions from the comfort of the pillow-laden couch.

And it was Arin who identified the poison: a mix of heartease, soldier grass, and six other compounds that no one should have ever thought to mix together. Crowding around the workbench, the three of them stared at the innocent-looking amber liquid.

"Now," Mother said, "we get to work."



Headmistress Hanna felt every bone creak as she climbed the palace stairs. She hadn't been in the Queen's Tower for years, and she didn't miss it. Her own office was high enough, thank you very much, but one didn't ignore a summons from the queen just because it was inconvenient or uncomfortable-which this most certainly was. She was puffing by the time she reached the top.

Several others were already squeezed into the tiny space: Queen Daleina, Champion Ven, Champion Piriandra, the palace seneschal, and two chancellors, who were both folded into wooden chairs and looked unhappy either because of the situation or their seating arrangements. Or perhaps they were unhappy because of the large wolf curled at their feet. 

And most surprising of all: Candidate Naelin.

Hanna was certainly not expecting her. Still, she hadn't gotten to where she was in life without having a little patience. Hanna knew all-or at least, most-would be explained.

"Are you well?" Ven asked the headmistress.

"Old age," she replied. "Nothing that a bit of death won't cure."

One of the chancellors, a man with a full beard-Chancellor Isolek, her memory supplied-sprang to his feet and offered her his chair. Hanna motioned for him to sit back down. If Hanna sat down, she knew her muscles would clench and it would be that much harder to stand again.

"Thank you for coming," Queen Daleina said to all of them. "Rumors will start flying soon, as news trickles in from the north. Until then, this is the most private place in Aratay. Naelin will be keeping away any spirits while we talk." Hanna noticed that Naelin was focused out the window. Her fists were clenched, and her eyes were scanning the night sky and the dark forest canopy below. Hanna knew she wasn't looking with only her eyes, which meant she had advanced much since they had last met.