“Don’t need a doctor,” I murmured, words blending.
“Nevertheless, one will be sent. For now, take this.” He handed me a corked amber bottle. Its glass was emblazoned with the words INK TINCTURE. Bluff.
My eyes closed of their own accord. I unstoppered the bottle and brought it to my lips, grateful for the medicine.
But the liquid, I realized with aching slowness, did not taste of bluff. It was metallic. Icy cold.
Idium.
My eyes opened, and I found Patrick watching me warily.
“So then, you have the Alchemist.” I said, only it came out slurred. “The rumors are true.”
I fell back onto the covers, the bowed ceiling sinking closer and closer.
“Rest.” His voice was deeper, hypnotic even. “I need you ready for what’s comin’. You’re safe here, I promise.”
Nowhere was safe.
A sigh, and th
