“I knew you would come straight here, coward that you are,” Sage said. “And now I get to be the one who kills you.”

Chapter Fifty-One

Leelo sat with her hands over her ears, trying to drown out the sound of the Hunters by humming a lullaby to herself. Her mother had fallen asleep beside her, but she woke with a sudden start, wincing in pain.

“Mama?” Leelo peered into her mother’s face. “What’s the matter? Are you ill again?”

Fiona took a sip of the water Leelo offered her and shook her head. “I’ve been ill for a long time, darling.”

Leelo tried to ignore the distant singing, but it was almost impossible. Worst of all, her own throat ached to join in. She reached for the cup of tea Ketty had prepared for Fiona before she left to soothe the pain.

“No!” Fiona’s hand shot out so fast it knocked the cup over, sloshing liquid all over the table.

For a moment, they both sat staring at each other, catching their breath.

“Saints, Mama. What was that about?” Leelo rose to fetch a towel and began to blot up the tea, but as she leaned closer, she was hit with a scent that was unfamiliar until yesterday. The same scent that filled the cave where the boat was kept. Where the lilies were grown.

Her eyes darted to Fiona’s. “Mama? What’s in this tea?”

Fiona must have seen the realization on Leelo’s face, because she only closed her eyes and breathed a deep sigh.

“Answer me. Why does your tea smell like the lilies?”

When Fiona opened her eyes, they were wet with tears. “It’s my medicine.”

Leelo was trying to understand what her mother was saying, but she was too distracted by the distant singing to make sense of it. “What medicine?”

Fiona leaned back in her chair. “You know that poisonous plants can have medicinal uses as well as fatal ones.”

Leelo nodded. “We use autumn crocus to treat gout. And the foxglove leaves for your heart troubles. What does that have to do with anything.”

“After your father died, I became ill. I couldn’t sleep. I wouldn’t eat. Your aunt nursed me back to health. The lilies, if highly diluted in water, can treat several ailments, including depression.

“After a time, I began to heal. But I refused to sing again, not even at the funeral. It wasn’t like not eating. That was a choice. But singing was different. I simply couldn’t do the thing that had once brought me so much joy. Not after what I’d done.”

Leelo wasn’t sure if singing had ever brought her joy. It had simply been a part of her, like the breath in her lungs and the blood in her veins. Giving it up didn’t feel like an option.