CHAPTER 67: WHAT REMAINS

FIA

The door slammed shut behind Cian. The sound echoed through the chamber. My heart was still pounding from the confrontation.

I stood there, breathing slowly, trying to process everything that had just happened.

Behind me, I heard movement. The soft scrape of fabric against stone. I turned.

Thorne was getting to his feet. Slowly. His legs looked unsteady. He put one hand against the floor to push himself up. The other pressed against his forehead. When he pulled it away, his palm was smeared with blood.

He stood there for a moment. Just staring at the floor. His shoulders were hunched. His breathing was ragged.

Then he looked at me.

"Why would you step in and save me?" His voice was rough. Tired. "I have been nothing short of antagonizing to you since you entered this territory."

I held his gaze. I didn’t look away.

"I knew your reason," I said.

His eyebrows drew together. He was somehow confused.

"You had this idea of me," I continued. "And you simply wanted to protect your Alpha from the scheming woman."

Thorne’s jaw tightened. He didn’t deny it.

"I saved you because I know in my heart that you are not guilty," I said.

For a long moment, he just stared at me. Then he let out a sound. Something between a laugh and a scoff. It was bitter.

"I don’t want to owe you any favors," he said.

I shook my head. "I am not asking you to owe me a favor or favors."

He opened his mouth to respond. I kept talking before he could.

"But there is more than just Nightshade and Hemlock root in the poison you just smashed to the ground."

That got his attention. His eyes widened slightly. His hand lowered from his forehead.

I walked toward the examination table. My boots made soft sounds against the stone. The shattered glass from the medicine bottle was still scattered across the floor. The liquid had pooled in the crevices between the stones. Some of it had started to dry.

I picked up another bottle from the table. This one was empty. It had a cork stopper and a narrow neck. The glass was thick. Good for storing liquids.

I knelt down beside the broken glass. Carefully, I unstoppered the empty vial. Then I tilted it. Let the opening rest against one of the larger pools of the spilled medicine.

The liquid flowed into the bottle slowly. It was thick. Viscous. Not like water or even honey. Something darker.

I scooped as much as I could and then tilted the vial at different angles to catch the medicine that had settled in the grooves of the floor. When I was done, the bottle was about a third full. Not much. But it would have to be enough.

I stood up. Corked the vial. Turned to face Thorne.

He was watching me. His expression had changed. The bitterness was gone. Now he just looked focused.

"You know that is poison right? And you are still an Omega."

I ignored that. There was more pressing things to focus on than my weakened immune system being the death of me.

"We need to find what more is in it," I said. I held up the vial so he could see it. "If it can help us find out who did it or help the Grand Luna."

Thorne was still standing in the same spot. Still looking like he wanted to collapse again.

"So get up your ass and stop feeling sorry for yourself," I said. My voice came out as sharp as I intended it to be. "You are alive."

He blinked. Like I had slapped him.

Then something shifted in his face. His jaw set. His shoulders straightened slightly.

"You are right," he said.

I waited.

"I need to redeem myself," he continued. His voice was stronger now. "Be useful to my Alpha."

He walked toward me. His steps were more steady than before. When he reached me, he held out his hand.

I placed the vial in his palm.

He looked down at it. Studied the dark liquid inside. Then he looked back at me.

"Thank you," he said. "I owe you two."

There was something different in his voice. Something genuine. I could feel it. The sincerity. The weight of what he was saying.

Most people said thank you without meaning it. Just words they threw out because it was expected. But Elder Thorne meant it. I could tell.

"Like I said before," I replied, "it is not necessary."

He shook his head. "No."

I waited for him to explain.

"I know when to swallow my pride and be grateful," he said. He held the vial up slightly. Like he was making a point. "We would have never known the Luna was poisoned if it was not because of you. And I would be in a cell now if not for you."

I didn’t know what to say to that. So I just stood there. Listening.

"I see it now," he continued. His eyes never left mine. "I always wondered why the goddess would bless a union born from deceit. It felt like a cruel joke at the time and I pitied Alpha Cian."

My chest tightened. I knew what he meant.

"But her ways are beyond man," Thorne said. "You were chosen for a reason. I would be a fool not to acknowledge it, Luna Fia."

Something in his tone made my throat feel tight. I wasn’t used to this. To people who had put me in a box see me as anything other than an outsider. A problem. A mistake.

Thorne turned. He set the vial down on the examination table carefully. Then he started gathering the other bottles. The tools. He was organizing them. Getting ready for something.

"You are knowledgeable in poison, aren’t you?" he asked. He didn’t look at me as he spoke. He just kept working.

"Yes," I said. "Why?"

He paused and turned to face me again.

"You should join me and Maren in the lab," he said. "We need you."

He picked up the vial again. Held it up to the light. The liquid inside looked almost black in the dim chamber.

"Skollrend needs you," he added.

I stared at him. At the way his hands had stopped shaking. At the determination in his eyes. This was a different man than the one who had been on his knees minutes ago. Begging for his life.

"Really?" I asked.

"Of course," Thorne said. "If you are willing."

I thought about it. About what Cian was doing right now. Interrogating the servants. Probably preparing to torture them if he didn’t get what he wanted from them.

I thought about the Grand Luna. Lying unconscious somewhere in this fortress. With more than two poisons eating away at her from the inside.

I thought about the person who had done this. Who was still out there. Still free.

"I am willing," I said.

Thorne nodded. He grabbed a leather satchel from under the table. Started loading it with bottles and tools. His movements were quick now. Efficient.

"The lab is in the north wing," he said. "Maren should already be there."

I watched him work. "What do you need me to do?"

"Help us identify every component in this poison," Thorne said. He secured the vial in a special compartment in the satchel. Padded so it wouldn’t break. "Every single ingredient. No matter how small."

"And then?"

"Then we figure out who could have made it," he said. "Not everyone has access to these kinds of materials. Especially if there are more than three components. The more complex the poison, the shorter the list of suspects we will have. Because accusing Alpha Gabriel is not enough, we need definitive proof. An added bonus is we can make an antidote."

I nodded. That made sense.

Thorne finished packing the satchel. He slung it over his shoulder. Then he looked at me again.

"I need to ask you something," he said.

"What?"

"How did you know?" His voice was quieter now. "How did you figure it out when Maren and I could not?"

I thought about how to explain it. It wasn’t one thing. It was a lot of small details. A lot of things that didn’t quite add up.

"I have seen victims of the rot before," I said. "Hell, my mother was one. But I also knew poison well. My mother sort of taught me plenty of what I know."

Thorne waited for me to continue.

"One time, there was a woman," I said. The memory was old. Faded around the edges. "She had been poisoned by her rival. A slow acting poison. Something that mimicked a wasting disease."

"What happened to her?"

"My mother figured it out," I said. "He saved her. But it took weeks to identify all the components. And by then, she was barely alive."

I looked at the satchel Thorne was holding. At the vial inside it.

"I learned to notice the small things," I said. "The smell. The color of the skin. The way the body reacts. Poison is different than disease. Always. You just have to know what to look for."

Thorne was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Your mother taught you well."

"She did."

"And you still remember."

"I remember everything she taught me," I said. My voice came out softer than I meant it to. "It is all I have left of her."

Thorne’s expression shifted. Something like understanding passed across his face. Like he knew what it was like to lose someone. To hold onto the things they taught you because it was the only way to keep them close.

"Come on," he said. He turned toward the door. "We have work to do."

I followed him out of the chamber. Into the hallway. The sentinels who had been standing guard outside were gone now. Probably following Cian to wherever he was conducting his interrogations.

We walked in silence. Through corridors I didn’t recognize. Past tapestries and windows that overlooked the mountains. The fortress was massive. I was still learning my way around.

"How long have you been Skollrend’s healer?" I asked.

"Twenty years," Thorne said. "I took over from my mentor when I was young. Too young, some said."

"But you proved them wrong."

"Eventually." He glanced at me. "But there is always someone who doubts. Who thinks you are not good enough."

I knew that feeling. I had been living it since before I even arrived here.

"Did the Grand Luna trust you?" I asked.

Thorne’s face softened. "She did. She was one of the few who believed in me from the start."

Having someone in your corner, I knew how important that was.

"Then we will save her," I said. "We have to."

"Yes," Thorne said. "We will."

We turned a corner. The hallway opened up into a wider corridor. At the end of it was a heavy wooden door. Reinforced with iron. The kind of door that was meant to keep people out.

Or keep something in.

Thorne pulled out a key. Unlocked the door. It swung open with a low creak.

Beyond it was a laboratory. Shelves lined the walls. Filled with bottles and jars and containers of every size. In the center of the room was a large table. Covered in equipment. Burners, mortars, scales and even things I didn’t recognize.

Doctor Maren was already there. She looked up when we entered. Her face was pal and her eyes were red like she had been crying.

"Thorne," she said. Her voice cracked. "They let you go too."

"Thanks to her," Thorne said. He gestured to me.