Immortal Memory (Iris' Atlantis 1)

28: Trapped

Plume

When I woke up I couldn't place myself. I felt blurry. But my head was clearing rapidly. Clarity returned like a wave washing over.

I placed a hand to the ground.

"Don't move."

I froze.

And became aware of a sharp object injected into my left arm. Very carefully I rotated my torso and came to sit with the needlepoint still sinking into the crook of my arm. The motion made me unexpectedly sick. I looked at the hollowed out fang that had sunk into a vein in my arm. It hadn't come off as I moved. Like the proboscis of a mosquito, locked to the vein.

I followed the tube connected to it. Aconite wasn't looking at me. His gaze was transfixed to the needle in his own arm. A steady flow of indigo connected us. Morning sun filtered through the glass panes of the veranda. It glistened on the tube between us as if it had been made of hard glass and not yielding plastic. There were no shards around us, just unbroken glass sheltering us from wind.

"You were poisoned," he told me, his eyes still fixed to the flow of indigo blood. "I have been feeding you an antidote. Luckily vampires die hard and slow. Luckily you didn't meet this fate elsewhere."

Aconite tugged his end free. He held the tube in his hand for a moment longer, watching his blood being guided through the single thirsty fang into my veins. Then he detached a small needle on his end and let the tube fall. He placed the needle onto the wooden table.

Two cups and two plates.

I pried free the fang-needle on my end and collected the rest of the magical device into a neat coil. The world around me spun rapidly as I rose. I took the coil with me to the table.

I glanced furtively at the kitchen as I seated myself opposite the witch.

"It's safe. Thanks to you, I assume. I owe you one."

"You owe me nothing," I muttered. I still felt slightly lightheaded. Was it of the witch blood, of the poison or because of the supposed antidote?

Aconite had a small cut perilously close to his left eye where a shard of a broken panel had cut him. Otherwise he didn't seem harmed.

"I suppose it could have gone worse," he said, as much to himself as me.

He meant talking to his son. I was just about to ask him what had started the talk in the first place, but suddenly the idea of the son reminded me of something... When I had tasted him...

In thoughts I guided a hand to my lips, as if the gesture could bring his scent back to me.

Then it came to me. The house.

I rose.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to find my uncle. I suddenly remembered. I cannot believe I didn't... I just need to go see Timothy. Yes. Right now."

I left a dumbfounded Aconite to call after me as I opened the front door. I dashed out.

And painfully hit a barrier and bounced backwards.

I sat on the tiled floor of the entrance hall looking through an open front door to the lawn beyond, cradling my head in my hands.

"I tried to warn you. We are not going anywhere, Plume. You and I, we are going to play card games and drink tea for some time. I've sealed all liminal places: All windows, all entrances, even the chimney. Julia knows who killed her. And until Hellebore or the Queen gives me a call, I am not removing the protections I set this morning while I waited for the antidote to get properly absorbed."