The Bone Palace - Amanda Downum [117]
A sliver of greyish-red meat glistened inside the curve of the blade. Phaedra took the knife from him and tapped the liver into a glass dish. When the cover was in place she sealed it with a touch, and spoke a word of stasis to keep the sample fresh. As fresh as years-dead flesh could ever be.
“Thank you. And since you’re here, you can help me dress.” She shot a glance over her shoulder as she turned toward the other room. “Why are you here?”
“I’m leaving.” The words were harder to voice than he’d imagined. “The city, that is.”
“Before the ball? You haven’t even seen my dress.” Teasing, but her brow creased.
“I can’t sit through the final act of this revenge play of yours. They’re always tragedies, you know.”
Her eyes flashed in the witchlight. “I know tragedy very well.”
“Then I leave it to you. My part in this is done.”
She turned, gown forgotten. “It doesn’t have to be. I could use your help, you know, when I take the throne.”
His eyebrows rose. “Really? When did you decide this?”
She shrugged. “We’ve discussed it for some time now, Spider and I.” Her pet vrykolos, the one who’d led Isyllt into danger—Kiril stifled a reply as she continued. “Since we’re removing a king to begin with, why not take advantage of the opportunity?”
“Why indeed. What does Varis think of this?”
She glanced away. “I’m sure Varis would be happy to see the Severoi back in power, even if the circumstances were unorthodox.”
“Of course.”
Her lips pursed in a frown. “You don’t approve.”
“You hardly need my approval at this stage. As I said, I’m finished.”
She closed the distance between them and laid a hand on his chest. “Don’t leave. You helped one king—help me. Or better yet, be a king. I promised to make you young and strong again, and I can. New life for both of us, and a throne besides. Haven’t you dreamed of that?”
He took her hand in his. “I know where my strengths lie. Whose body would you steal for me?” The answer came as soon as he voiced the question. “Nikos, of course. What better way to take the throne? And whose flesh for you?”
“Does it matter? Someone young and beautiful. Would you like to choose?”
Her neediness unsettled him—he would rather see her raging. “It might work, but not for me. I have no desire to rule, and even less to steal someone else’s life that way. Nikos has done nothing to earn your enmity.”
She sagged against him, cold and soft. “Not enmity—expedience. Isn’t that always the way of it?”
He took her by the shoulders and eased her away. “I’m sorry, Phaedra. I can’t help you anymore.”
“But I can help you. Not a new body, perhaps, but strength I can give you. I promised I would.” She pressed close again, too strong for him to move without violence. “You broke yourself for me—I know that. Let me make you whole again.”
“I told you, I have no desire to be your pet.” The denial came more slowly than it should. He needed to leave, before her madness infected him. Before her promises wore him down.
“You won’t be, I swear. Besides—” She smiled up at him through her lashes. “Don’t you think you could stop me if I tried?”
“I prefer not to make foolish assumptions,” he said dryly, “especially where my freedom is concerned.”
“Don’t you see, freedom is what I’m offering you? You gave your life in service to a king who abandoned you, and spent your strength helping me. I can give you that back, with no vows to bind you.”
He could never trust her. It was madness and foolishness and he had to refuse, but the words didn’t come. He was so tired—he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt strong, even before Phaedra came. He was so tired of weariness and regret.
She took his hand and led him to the laboratory.
CHAPTER 15
Isyllt’s plans of further investigation died the next morning when a city runner knocked on her door an hour past the dawn bells, summoning her to the Arcanost. Nearly half the army had returned with some wound or another, and the hospitals were already straining to treat everyone with influenza. With physicians overwhelmed, mages were called upon to treat the injured.
Cursing