“None of the rest of the juice was poisoned,” Iarion said. His voice was pitched just above a whisper. “Rainsong barely took a sip from Snowfire’s cup.”
Barlo gave the worn hide that marked the entrance to the chamber a wary look. Without an actual door, he was forced to rely on Iarion’s superior hearing to warn them of any listeners in the hallway, beyond the door flap.
“Well the taste certainly made it easier to disguise any poison.” He shuddered. “What do you think that was all about? The girl clearly meant to kill Snowfire.”
Iarion shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe she’s a jilted lover. Or maybe she’s next in line to run this place if anything happens to Snowfire. Either way, it doesn’t have anything to do with us. She killed herself, so it’s not as if she can try again.”
“Aren’t you the
