Sudhakar bent his head. “I doubt she will survive. This medicine is a potent poison. I told her so. She has taken too much for a person of her size and then fallen asleep too soon.”

“I don’t understand,” Quill said numbly. “Why would that matter?”

“The medicine is made from the poison of a tree frog,” Sudhakar explained. “The frog puts its prey into a deep sleep before eating them. That deep sleep is invariably fatal for humans.”

“Wake her up!” Quill brushed Sudhakar aside and took Gabby’s shoulders. Ignoring Sudhakar’s protest, he shook her—but she shook like a wet rag, and her head listed awkwardly to one side.

“Give her something,” he commanded. “A remedy.”

“There is no remedy for this poison,” Sudhakar said. “You must live with the consequences. As must I.”

“Then why did you let her have it?” Quill said savagely. “You knew she was impulsive. You should have guessed she might take it herself!”

Sudhakar looked at him. “Now, why would that occur to me? I saw a young woman consumed with anxiety for her husband, prepared to ruin her marriage in order to save him further suffering. I saw nothing self-destructive about her.”

“She thought it was harmless,” Quill whispered harshly. “She had no idea. You shouldn’t have given it to her.”

“Do you think she is a child? She is a grown woman. Her rash actions are her own.”

It was only when Quill fixed him with a brutal gaze that he realized that Sudhakar was also suffering. “We must do something,” he said desperately.

Sudhakar turned away. “It is beyond my skill.” The words were wrung from deep in his chest. “I have loved two children in my life. And now Gabrielle will join Johore in death. I failed each of them.”

Quill looked up at him. “She told me you were an expert with poisons.”

“But this is not an Indian poison,” Sudhakar said. “If there is a cure, I do not know it. I am a stupid old man, unable to cure my loved ones.”

Quill barely stopped himself from leaping at the old man’s throat. “Think,” he insisted. “Why do the patients die? Gabby looks as if she is merely sleeping.”

“I am not certain,” Sudhakar admitted. “They live for a few days, sleeping all the while, and they do not wake up. I have never seen it myself. But the man who gave me the poison warned of its consequences. Stimulants are not effective in waking the patient.”

“There’s nothing wrong with sleeping,” Quill said uncertainly. “A person could sleep for a week without harm, could he not?”

Sudhakar frowned. “If he had water—” He stopped. “Perhaps the patients die not because of the poison but because they lack water.”

“Fine,” Quill said. “We’ll give Gabby water.” He took a glass by the bed and held up her head, but the water poured back out of her mouth.