*Rafe*
When Jerim arrives driving a horse and carriage filled with gold, I take him immediately to the medical tent to see the stinking carcass of the lycan messenger.
“Poison?” I ask.
Jerim puts on gloves and starts examining the body. “So it would seem. You said you heard a cracking sound before he began convulsing?”
“I think from his mouth,” I say.
With a nod, he pries open the lycan’s jaw. “Hmm. Cracked false tooth. Definitely poison.”
“Do we know what kind? Is there an antidote?” I ask.
“A poison as fast-acting as you described? An antidote wouldn’t matter,” he replies grimly. “But no, I’m not personally familiar with this one. I will have to consult my books. I brought every book I have on poison with me.”
“Good thinking.” I gesture for us to leave the tent.
Both of us take
