Chapter 10

10

E nvy wasn't sure what to do with her. He conjured a few warding spells, and then a few spying spells, for good measure. He sent them into her room, disguised as flowers to watch what she was doing. For the most part, she talked to herself. Muttering words that he couldn't quite hear even through the spell.

Soon, though, he could see the madness set in. She twitched often. Her fingers flexing at her sides while her head jerked to the side. Her breath became more rapid, her chest rising and falling. She was almost frantic as she searched for a way out of her room.

This wasn't sustainable. He knew that. But also he didn't know how to get her magic out of her.

It was a conundrum, and he didn't like not knowing the answer to anything. Envy always had an answer. Orphe usually had one if he didn't.

And neither of them knew how to get the magic out of this woman.

"Other oracles?" Orphe croaked. "Perhaps they would know."

"I'm not sure if there are any others. Not to mention they would be almost impossible to find. She's still on her hunger strike and claims she will not eat here." He pulled at his bottom lip. "Besides, they are unlikely to give up their secrets."

Orphe clacked her beak, nodding in an eerily human way before he looking back to him. "Understood. There are many oracles I could find, but it would take time. You may lose her before that."

He didn't even want to consider that end. He wouldn't let her die on his watch.

The orb that he'd set up to warn him when she did something new rattled on his desk. He didn't have time to look in on her, though. She caused trouble all the time, and if she was chipping at the walls again, then that would only anger him.

The last time he'd walked into the room, he'd tried to kill her. And it hadn't worked. The power inside her was great, but it was also significantly more aggressive than he'd anticipated it being. Considering her own nature, he had thought it would be a rather docile thing. After all, she hadn't actually managed to kill him. Nor had she even brought out a real weapon other than her boot.

"There has to be an easier solution," he muttered, still tugging on his bottom lip.

"If you don't stop doing that, you're going to swell," Orphe hissed.

Right. He was worrying his skin a little too hard. Envy needed to get himself together. He needed to focus and not keep feeling like he didn't know what to do in this situation. He was the king, he knew...

The orb rattled harder.

"Every time I cast a damn spell in this castle, the items get a personality of their own," he snarled, slapping his hand on top of the orb to force it to stop moving. "Enough. I will look at what she's doing in a moment."

The orb vibrated so hard he could feel the bones in his hand moving.

"By all the gods in every kingdom," he muttered before releasing the orb. "Fine. Show me."

The orb projected her room in front of him and his breath caught in his lungs. She was on the floor, not a position he had seen her in before. She appeared to be seizing. Her arms curled into her chest, her hands strangely placed and bent at the wrists in a way that looked beyond painful. She wasn't well. In fact, he would suggest that she might be dying.

Her legs jolted with the force of the seizure that rocked through her body, and even as the tiny figure on his desk he could see that she was lying in a puddle of her own spit that foamed out of her mouth.

"Shit," he muttered, standing and striding toward his workroom. "Orphe, go to her and make sure she doesn't die."

"Would you like me to peck out one of her eyes? That should wake her."

"It won't wake her from a seizure. Do not do that," he snapped.

If he had known taking a human body would surround him with fools, then he might have remained the spirit of envy. Now, he had to focus on healing humans and taking care of creatures who didn't want to be taken care of.

If she'd tried to kill herself, he would use this opportunity for what it was. He'd let her die and take her power.

But the worm of need wriggling in his belly said he wouldn't let her die. So he strode into his workroom with single-minded intent.

He had healed before. He'd also consumed many healers, so he knew what to do with a body that was refusing to work correctly. Injuries were easier, but he'd healed one of his brother's wives before. She had been very consistent with what he knew about people like her. Lack of blood, that was easy to fix. The overuse of a body by a demon was also easy for him to fix.

But he didn't know what was wrong with Lilith. Which meant he needed to bring as much as he could think of. His mind raced through possibilities as he looked over the stores of jars, potions, and ingredients for spells. They were all up on the walls on shelves, each one more strange than the last. Tongues, wings, ground stones, and pixie parts. Every jar was filled with different colored potions, all leading to the massive stone slab of his work table.

There was a makeshift stone bed behind him as well, similar to the one that Lilith had slept on. A few patients had laid there in his day, not excluding his brother's new wife.

Muttering under his breath, he conjured the portal while he gathered up the jars and potions. Each one would help her body settle, but he wasn't sure which would cure her. Or if any of them would. After all, he had years of experience in his head, but a seizure was never so easy to figure out.

Walking through the portal with his arms full, he kept his eye on her shuddering body as he set everything on the floor out of her reach. His heart twisted to see her in so much pain.

"All right, little one, let's get you on your side." He walked around behind her, gently moving her body so that she wasn't in danger of choking. He reached for a pillow on the bed, easing it underneath her head before he rubbed her arms.

"You're all right. You'll make it through this, and you aren't alone, beautiful. Take your time. You don't have to rush it."

Once her rapid movements started to subside, he moved her upper leg to a right angle and her free arm straight out from her side. Then he sat with her, rubbing her back and watching her for any reaction.

She blinked a few times. Then her eyes seemed to come into focus. And he felt like he could breathe again. How long had it been since he inhaled? He'd been watching her so intently, he felt like he hadn't breathed in an hour. His own breaths ragged, he reached behind him for a blue potion bottle.

"Can you drink this?" he asked.

She nodded, but it was a slow movement. Almost as though she wasn't quite sure where she was.

"Let me help you, little one. You'll need to drink all of it. It will help."

She didn't complain as he moved her limp body, breathing a little harder as she sat up, but not fighting him at all. She let him brace her head against his shoulder, leaning against him with her entire weight, and he knew right then how serious this was. Not an ounce of fight remained in her body. She should be pushing him away, telling him that she didn't want someone like him to help her.

But that wasn't what she did. Instead, she just let him take care of her while she caught her breath. Her shaking hand lifted to grab onto his wrist, guiding the potion to her mouth as though she hoped it would save her.

He didn't know that it would, though.

A strange emotion swept through him as she held onto him. And all he could focus on was how small her hand looked holding onto his wrist. She was so much smaller than him, so delicate, and yet right now she was trusting him to take care of her.

She wasn't afraid that he would kill her. Right now, their interaction was about reassuring her and it was a position he wasn't all that used to.

Swallowing hard, he wrapped his arm a little more firmly around her. "Feeling better?"

Her hand shook around his wrist and he could see how hard it was for her to swallow. Instead of replying, she shook her head.

"What happened?" No, that was too aggressive. He shouldn't accuse her of anything. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "I mean, has something like this happened before?"

She finished the potion. Her hand on his wrist remained limp as he drew both of their hands to her lap. The bottle rested against her belly, empty now. "Yes."

By the gods, the sound of her voice did something horrid to him. His stomach twisted. His heart dropped into the pit of his ribs, and he wanted to break something. Not her. But a plate or a person who had done this to her. He wanted to protect her, not... hurt her.

Tucking her head firmly against his shoulder, he brushed his fingers through the tangled and sweaty locks of her hair. "I'm sorry to hear this isn't the first time that it's happened."

"Just part of being an oracle," she said, her shoulders lifting and falling with a big sigh. "What did you give me?"

"It's a relaxant. Something to help your body get into a state of ease. A spell, I suppose. It won't stop a seizure, but it helps with the recovery."

"Thank you for that, I guess." She muttered something under her breath before trying to sit up. "I need to go back to my master."

"You have no master."

"I do," she snapped, but her words had no heat to them. "You don't understand."

"Then tell me what to understand."

She shook her head, clearing her throat again and clearly struggling. "It's going to happen again. I need to go back to my master. He's the only one who can help me."

"Lilith—"

"My master," she whispered, already out of his arms and on her hands and knees. She was crawling toward the pool, but he wasn't all that sure why.

Perhaps because she needed to bathe? She was covered in sweat and spit. Maybe she wanted to be clean.

"Come here, oracle. Let me get you in the bath." He stood, stooping beside her, only to flinch as she hissed out an angry breath.

"Not you." Those icy eyes seared straight through him. "You need to leave. Or bring me to my master."

He hated that she still called that other man her master. The circus master didn't deserve the name, neither did he deserve her adoration. Clenching his teeth, he waved his hand for another portal. Two servants walked through.

Her eyes caught on them, and he saw the need in her gaze. Two other women, eerily similar to the priestesses who had served her in that circus. He'd chosen them for that very reason, because he suspected she would want something familiar. Especially in circumstances like this.

He caught his wrist behind his back, trying to stay in her line of sight in case she didn't want him behind her. "I understand this is hard for you. For that reason alone, I will allow you to be cleaned by my servants. This is a gift, Lilith. View it as one."

She glared at him through the tangled locks of her hair. "I need to be alone."

"You will not drown yourself." Anger flared a little hotter at the venom in her gaze as he said the words. "I meant what I said. You don't get to kill yourself. You die when I say you can die."

"Everyone needs to get out of this room," she said through clenched teeth. "And I need to go back to my master."

"So you have said. You seem so dedicated to a man who isn't even looking for you, and I wonder why that is." He crouched before her this time, his hands dangling off his knees as he forced her to look at him. "Lilith. Give up your hope of returning to the squalor and performances. This is your home now."

She stared up at him and he suddenly realized two things.

She wasn't afraid of him or angry. The look in her eyes was one of complete and utter hopelessness. She stared at him as though she were looking into a void. There was an emptiness inside her that was only spreading and making everything worse.

And second, that he wasn't listening to what she'd been trying to tell him. She wasn't saying that she wanted to be alone so she could kill herself. She wasn't begging for time to herself.

The mist rising underneath her skin poured free like a tidal wave that spread from her shoulders and her body. She opened her mouth and more of it spilled from her lips, streaming out of her like vomit until the mist gathered under her. The two women he had hired on as servants for his oracle hesitated near the portal that was already closing behind them.

"Damn it," he hissed, already trying to conjure it open. But it was too late for them.

The mist gathered around Lilith before exploding outward. Suddenly, the entire room was full of it, like he had started a fire and never cleared the smoke. He could hardly see his hand in front of his face, let alone the two women who stood there and were now at risk.

"Get to the wall!" he shouted, but Envy already knew it was too late.

A hand wrapped around his ankle, and then suddenly she was there. Kneeling in front of him with her eyes completely white. She looked like a marble statue again; a creation that had come to life.

"Help me," she said, her voice echoing with a hundred voices of women who had endured her pain before. "Help me, please."

And then the only words she said next were prophecies, words falling from her tongue as she rambled on and on about the two women in the room. How they had grown up, where they had been. The men who had touched them.

None of it was under control, and none of it made sense.

Envy felt as though he watched a woman go mad, and there wasn't nothing he could do to stop it.