Wren pipetted one lethal drop onto a glass slide and studied it beneath the microscope. She twisted a knob to examine Hal’s blood sample again.

An exact match.

Wren swore, nearly toppling over her chair in her hurry to stand.

“What?” Hannah asked. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Wren began to pace the room and bit the tip of her thumb. Of all poisons, it had to be this one. The one no healer had cracked. Logically, Hal should have been long dead—probably within minutes of the first dose. “You told me every person who’s fallen ill has lived longer than the person before, right?”

“Yes,” Hannah said slowly. “That’s right.”

If that was the case, what if the poisoner hadn’t intended to kill Hal at all? What if they were experimenting with tiny doses and tracking the effects? Drop by drop, day by day. That was all it took to reduce the Reaper of Vesria to a shell of himself.

“This is bad,” Wren whispered. “Really bad.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Hannah’s voice cut through her panic. “You’re acting very strange.”

She knew it. She knew, but she couldn’t explain it. How could she possibly tell Hannah her friends had been murdered? Wren had no intention of uncovering the saboteur before she took Hal and never looked back. She couldn’t live with herself if she abandoned Hannah with the burden of that.

“Do you trust me?” Wren asked.

Hannah heaved a vexed sigh, rolling her eyes heavenward. “Yes. I trust you.”

“Then just trust that you don’t need to know right now.”

“But that’s so cryptic! When exactly will I ‘need to know’?”

“Soon,” Wren said pleadingly. “I promise.”

Hannah opened her mouth to protest but cut herself off as she glared down at the poison. “Alright. But you can’t hide things from me forever.”

“Thank you.”

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As soon as the door clicked shut behind Hannah, Wren cradled her head in her hands and tried to breathe through her dread. Whatever this poisoner had planned for Hal, she intended to foil it. Assuming, of course, she could cure a supposedly incurable poison in the span of nine days.

It was a huge assumption.

For the first time in her life, she feared she had brushed against the limits of her skill. With a team, she could organize shifts. At home, she would have access to an entire apothecary, botanical libraries, and a host of other opinions. But here, she was only one girl.

If she couldn’t bring Hal back alive, she needed a contingency plan.

It was time to renegotiate their deal.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Hal was sleeping.