The Shadow Tide

CHAPTER 22 - Flood

Brethen awoke in her own room. It was dark and a single lamp illuminated the space on the bedside table. She could hear voices, exasperated whispers, but couldn't focus long enough to understand what was happening. However, she recognized one of the voices. She could identify that slightly hoarse tone anywhere.

"Arian?" Brethen whispered, and the figures before her took shape.

"Breth!" Arian appeared beside her, sitting on the edge of the bed. The other figure, Brethen noticed, was Gael. He nodded quietly to Arian and left the room.

Brethen struggled to sit up, and the world spun. Arian put his arm behind her, helping her lean back against the pillows.

"What happened? I don't..." Brethen's voice died when she noticed Arian wearing a sling, and there was a bloodstain on his tunic at shoulder height. Then everything rushed back at once. The memories were blurred, like a dream, but they were there. The ball. The attack. The escape.

The king, lying on the floor of a dark tunnel, dead.

As the memories became clearer, Brethen's heart rushed more and more. Her breath came in shallow, rapid spasms that failed at catching air.

"Breth," Arian held her face in his hands, "Take a deep breath; it's all right now."

Inhale deeply through the nose. Count to three. Exhale through the mouth. She rested her head on Arian's good shoulder letting the long breaths do their work. Gradually, Brethen's heart seemed to calm down. Only then did she lift her head and said, "Tell me what happened."

"The Shadow Tide infiltrated the party in Belinda's family entourage. They managed to bring weapons into the ball. My father..." He shook his head, letting the words fade. "Belinda herself tried to attack and you defended me, but something happened, and you collapsed suddenly. Then she tried to stab you, and I..."

"You stood in front of the blade," Brethen finished the sentence, "and got stabbed in the shoulder for me."

Arian looked at his own shoulder, only then realizing the spreading stain on his light tunic.

"Shit, the bandage must have shifted," he adjusted his arm back into the sling, "But it's nothing serious; it was a small blade."

A small blade that would've been enough to slit Arian's throat, as Belinda intended.

"Is she dead?" Brethen asked through gritted teeth.

"No. She's in the dungeons. Her parents were also arrested along with the surviving accomplices. All of them had Shadow Tide tattoos."

"Even her?"

"No, not her."

"I'll personally kill her," she growled.

"No, you won't," Arian said. "We need her alive. And you need to rest."

"Arian, it was you who took a stab trying to defend me," Brethen suddenly felt consumed by fury. "What the hell were you thinking, anyway?"

"Breth, can we have this argument later?" Arian interrupted. "You passed out, and you were burning up with a fever. Belinda confessed to poisoning you. We've given you the antidote."

"She poisoned me? How?"

"In the coffee the other day."

Brethen remembered that hungover morning when she joined Arian and Belinda for breakfast. That was where it all began. The symptoms, initially mixed with the effects of alcohol, only worsened since then.

"It was a slow-acting poison," Arian explained. "The symptoms worsen over time, potentially leading to death, depending on the dose. But I want to know why you didn't tell me you were feeling unwell for days."