Page 23 of The Enemy's Daughter

Why aren’t they moving?

“Don’t you know what it is?” I ask. “Small purple flower with fuzzy leaves. It grows in the rocky, higher ground. You must have some of that around here. Get me some paper, I’ll draw it for you. And crushed white thistle! He’ll need that, too, to support the liver...” So many other plants come to mind, but there isn’t time.

Samuel shares a skeptical look with Ryland. They know whatI know: it’s too late. These remedies could’ve helped Tristan if he didn’t have a lethal dose of poison in his body. Now, he’s too far gone.

Which is why I need them to go and search for this flower. After I fail to take back the poison, I’m going to have to make my escape.

“Make it concentrated,” I continue, my voice turning desperate. “A handful of each plant and cover just enough with water and simmer. It will need to be given for days. Maybe weeks. He’ll have to drink buckets of it. But it will help.”

I straighten my shoulders, doing my best to look confident that this is still a viable option.

“Go,” Vador commands without taking his eyes off Tristan. “You, too, Ryland. Help him. We don’t have much time.”

Samuel flexes his fists like he’s about to punch a hole in the wall. “Fine. But if he’s dead when I return, I’m the one who gets to kill her.”

8

My hair has mostly come free of my braid, and I nervously push it behind my ears. “What do I do first to take the poison back?”

Vador seems like the type of soldier who wouldn’t blink at having to set his own broken bone, but I swear he breaks out into a sweat at my question. He runs a hand over his graying mustache, then the sharp edge of his jaw. “Well... that’s an interesting question. To be honest, normally you use your relationship to... do that. But since you two are strangers and not in any condition to... get to know each other, I’m not exactly sure what to do.”

“A relationship?” I repeat. I suppose I can see how having had a rapport with Tristan while he was trying to heal me would have helped. Then suddenly Vador’s embarrassment makes sense. Tristan asked me to open up to him. To feel him. Then he touched me with a certain level of intimacy until somehow a link was made between us. The process of building that connection is personal. Physical. There’s a reason it’s only done with your spouse. “How close of a relationship are we talking?”

Vador gestures vaguely at me. “The closer the better.”

“Just go, Vador,” Tristan whispers.

Vador looks like that’s the best idea yet, and the door slams behind him as he leaves.

“Bleeding ash... this magic comes fromintimacy.”

Tristan clenches his jaw. “It comes from having a connection. It’s a benediction of sorts... on your marriage. The closer we get, the... more it can do.”

And now I have additional questions.

“But we may have been the... first to not know each other and try to access it.”

Oh. “Then let’s repeat what we did last time.” I climb on the bed and lie down beside him, since physical touch seems to be an important part. “Wait. So what was the singing all about?”

His eyes have slipped closed, and if not for his labored breathing, I’d think he was dead. He looks dead. The sun-kissed, golden hue of his skin has disappeared. He glistens with sweat. Impossibly, the dark circles under his eyes look worse. They seem to be spreading to his temples too. Urgently, I shake him. “Tristan, I don’t know the song.”

His eyelids crack open. He pauses to draw in some air. “It was just... a way to share a part of myself with you. To open up. My mother used to sing it.”

“So, I don’t have to sing?”

He shakes his head the barest amount.

“Good. Because I don’t sing. At all.”

My relief is momentary. But then whatwillI do?

There’s blood on him. On me. It’s flowing freely down his arm. I cover the wound with my hand and try not to think about whatwill happen if I can’t keep this man alive.

Open upto each other.Find a connection.

Unfortunately, my experience inconnectingwith anyone in this way is limited to my one kiss with Liam, which was only a little over a day ago. But there are other ways to connect, right? I could treat him like a patient. I place my free hand on his forehand to check his temperature. His skin is soft. A little damp.

Nothing happens.

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