A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 2)

Okay, folks, here it goes, our third trial, I thought, and my animal, thankfully, didn’t reply. She knew the stakes.

“What’s the matter?” Maryanne asked softly.

“She is wondering if that elixir will heal or kill,” Hannon replied.

“Then I better give it to…whatever poor sap needs it.” Hadriel reached out. “I am a master at shit jobs. I literally shoveled horse shit before the previous butlers were murdered and my standing was elevated. This is a job for me.”

“I’ll do it. I know what to look for.” Hannon held out his hand for the mug. “How far is the house? Should we pour the water there, since this particular elixir is…touchier?”

“Probably. One of the bad cases is right next door, but…” I grabbed a potholder and pulled on my animal’s power for extra strength.

“Whoa,” Maryanne said as I picked up the pot and followed Hannon out the door.

“She has access to her animal,” Hadriel said. “Which is a secret, love. Let’s keep that—maybe all of this—between us, what do you say?”

I gave two knocks on the house next door, where the man had been alone in his bed, on death’s doorstep. I startled when the door opened. A woman looked out, sadness pulling at her gaunt features. This wasn’t sickness, it was a crushed soul, helplessly watching a loved one die.

“I’m here to help,” I said softly, heat pricking the backs of my eyes as I remembered that struggle.

“Who are…” She glanced down my front. “Who are you?”

“I’m the creator of the…potion that is helping people. I have something stronger for the man in this house. I’d like to talk to you about it.”

“The…potion?” She glanced down at the pot in my hand.

“Yes. I am working on something that will help…your husband?” She nodded, picking at her nail. “There are three options. The first is a very potent elixir—potion—that could cure him. I’ve tried it on two others, and it seems to have cured the sickness. One of them was my father, so please know that I do not take any of this lightly. However, it is also incredibly dangerous. If it doesn’t work, it’ll kill him immediately. That’s option one.”

Tears came to her eyes. She nodded without comment.

“Option two is the normal elixir—potion. It is weaker. It will help him a little, but it won’t help him for long. It’s not a cure. It’ll essentially give you a chance to say goodbye to him. The third option is doing nothing, and he’ll die quite soon, I would think. Those are your choices.”

Her tears overflowed, and she wiped them away. She took a deep breath. “You made the potion that the prince gave the village?”

“Yes.”

“They won’t give it to Rufus because they don’t have enough. We need to wait our turn.”

My heart broke for her. To see a loved one in such bad shape, know there is something to help, and be told to wait was a torture unlike any other. I couldn’t imagine her grief, waiting and hoping the help came before she lost him. Possibly losing hope by the day.

I swallowed down an uncomfortable lump in my throat and focused instead on anger. There had been no need for this continued suffering. Rufus should’ve been one of the first.

“They aren’t in charge. I am, and I say it’s your turn. I’m going to make some right now. Which kind should I make? The kind that’ll let you say goodbye, or the kind that will either cure him or kill him?”

Tears continued to slip down her face. My heart shattered because I knew what I was making her choose. But then, we all had to choose eventually. The mad king had made sure of it.

“He’s suffering,” she said, breaking down. “Please, help him if you can. Try to cure him. If it doesn’t work, at least he’ll have a timely death.”

I nodded.

Here we go.

Beside the bed, I poured the water into the mug and mixed it, waiting until it cooled and the smell hit the notes I was looking for. With a deep breath, I held the mug out for Hannon and walked out.

“Where is she going?” the woman asked.

“She’s done all she can. Now it’s my turn,” Hannon said gently.

Outside, I sucked in a deep breath and went back to Maryanne’s house. I would mix the other elixir now and start passing it out. All we could do was wait to see if I’d hurried a man into the beyond.

An indeterminate amount of time later, a delicious smell caught my attention. I knew it right away, and my animal perked up in pleasure, desperate to drag me that direction.

Nyfain’s large black stallion walked down the small dirt path. He sat astride it in the same T-shirt as earlier, stretching across his mouth-watering chest. The sun sank behind his head, creating a golden glow on his unruly hair.