He is heavy when limp.
Caelan in my arms, green dress soaked in red wine and silver blood. His blood hisses where it touches wine spill, like acid.
"Healer!" I scream again.
Old healer from Trial pushes through crowd, white robe, same one who held green needle. But this time he looks scared, not fake kind.
He kneels, touches Caelan's neck, sniffs blood on lips.
"Wolfsbane, silver nitrate, plus Moonshade," he says. "Old recipe. From North books. No antidote in Hall. Need Moonshade root and Original blood to bind."
"Original blood?" Prince Cassian asks from behind, holding his own glass far away. "Whose?"
Healer looks at me.
"Original blood. Lyra line. Only two left. Ella and her sister."
Sister. Rhea.
Of course. Rhea poisoned wine to make this choice.
She wants us to need her, Ly
