Page 40 of Fae Mates

“How’s Pokeweed?” The remedial teacher ran a hand through his golden hair.

My gaze dropped to the ground, where a thick root snaked out from under the soil. Its bark had been burned off, exposing its glistening, white core. “One of the attackers administered a deadly poison. There’s no antidote.”

When neither one of them replied, I peered up at them through my lashes. Flora stood with her hand over her mouth, and Mr. Whittaker with his over his chest. He stepped back, shaking his head from side to side.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“But I don’t understand how the life-water failed. It works on everything.”

I reared back. “What?”

“Didn’t Healer Tarax give him any?” asked Flora.

“He said…” My shoulders drooped. The healer hadn’t tried anything or suggested any cures except effervescent salts, which would accelerate Pokeweed’s death. “Have you heard of nightsbane?”

Mr. Whittaker shook his head.

“My father used to joke about it,” said Flora. “If someone turned up looking nicer than usual, he’d asked whether they’d checked themselves for nightsbane. It’s supposed to be nasty, but he never said that life-water couldn’t cure it.”

I stared from Flora to Mr. Whittaker. They both looked as perplexed as I felt.

“Why do you think he didn’t want Pokeweed healed?” I asked.

Flora rubbed her chin. “If someone high up wants him dead, what do you think they’ll do to the healer for undermining their handiwork?”

“Bloody hell,” I muttered. “You can’t trust anyone around here.”

Flora spread her arms wide. “That’s how things work in the Royal Court. Everyone’s stabbing everyone in the back, and those who aren’t are keeping in the shadows to avoid becoming collateral damage.”

“Right.” Paranoia prickled against my skin, and I glanced around the orchard for eavesdroppers but found only neat rows of apple trees.

“That’s why father survived so long,” said Flora. “Nobody ever notices the horse breeders.”

Mr. Whittaker and I exchanged the same look. Neither of us wanted to ask Flora what had happened to her father. All I knew was that he had died, and her human mother had sent Flora to the academy for a chance of a better life. Guilt skittered through my insides at having lost her father’s cloak in the Spring Court.

“Where can we get this life-water?” I asked.

“This way.” Mr. Whittaker headed toward the field of giant garlic flowers. “There’s an aquifer that runs beneath the rock from the palace to all major settlements within the Prudence District, such as the Plaza, the major Courts, and the Royal Fae Academy.”

I glanced from side to side, my skin pricking with the kind of self-awareness I’d expect from a prey animal in a nature DVD. Anyone could be watching us. Using the trees as cover, I followed Flora and Mr. Whittaker. As soon as we reached the shade of the giant garlic flowers, a sense of ease swept over my skin.

“Father used to heal sick horses with life-water all the time,” said Flora.

“What happened to him?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.

She turned to me, her dark eyes flashing. “You mean, why didn’t he drink that water himself?”

Wincing at the anger in her voice, I raised both palms. “Sorry for sounding so insensitive. It’s just that Healer Tarax told me there was no cure for nightsbane, and I wanted to know if there were instances where the water wouldn’t work.”

“Please don’t take offense,” said Mr. Whittaker. “We’re all worried about Pokeweed.”

Flora walked ahead with her shoulders up to her ears, leaving Mr. Whittaker and me trailing after her. A copse of trees stood at the end of the meadow of garlic flowers, and she snapped a low branch off a tree and swished it with the sound of a whip.

“It’s like he said.” Bitterness traced Flora’s voice. “The water’s only available to those in the Prudence district.”

We continued through the forest, waiting for Flora to elaborate. Dappled sunlight shone through the gaps in the canopy, heating up my skin. I scratched at my arms and wiped a bead of sweat off my brow.

While we caught up, Flora slashed her branch over the trunk of a dogwood tree, sending bits of bark flying everywhere.