“She needs no spells for that.” Malita snickered. “Just ask Gideon.”
I shot Malita a withering glance, but it only made her laugh harder.
“I’ll tell you exactly what this is about,” I said to Brigette. “Then you tell me if you’re interested.”
As simply as possible, I explained my relationship with Le Poing Fermé, their recent activities in Inselgrau, and the demands they’d made of me. At the mention of the powerful cabal, Brigette’s eyes popped wide. Another cherry stain bled into her cheeks. By the time I’d finished explaining my plans, the whites of her eyes shone clearly around her dark irises. Her mouth hung wide, chin nearly to her chest.
“Go ahead and shoot me now and put me out of my misery,” she said.
Dumbly, I blinked at her.
“Even without the headaches, without the mordid...” She shook her head. “I don’t stand a chance against that cabal. And if I tried, either they’d kill me, or my brain would catch fire and explode—or that’s what it would feel like, anyway. That kind of Magic...” She dabbed her eyes. “Take me back to my shop. I can’t help you.”
“If the headaches weren’t a factor, what would your answer be?”
She set down her teacup and drew her knees up under her chin. “I don’t allow myself to think that way. If I start down that what-if hole, I’ll never crawl back out.”
“Please?” I eased closer to her and held her gaze. “Just for a moment, think about it. If not for the headaches, what would you want for your life, more than anything else?”
She closed her eyes. I thought she was shutting me out, refusing to answer. Instead she let out a long breath, removed her spectacles, and rubbed her eyes. “Purpose. All I ever wanted was to have a purpose. Something more than just surviving day to day.”
Niffin cleared his throat and stood. He gave me an inscrutable look, bit his bottom lip, and furrowed his brow. “What if...” He glanced at Malita.
She nodded as if sensing what he was going to say and encouraging him to continue.
“What if I told you there was an alternative to the mordid? Something non-addictive. Something much less deadly.”
Brigette and I both frowned at him.
“Then I’d say I doubted its efficacy,” she said. “I’ve tried everything. Mordid is the only thing that dulls the pain.”
“I can assure you that you’ve never tried djageesh.”
“Never tried it?” She coughed a sharp laugh. “I can’t even pronounce it. I’ve never heard of it, either, and I’m an apothecary, for the gods’ sakes.”
“I’ve been with your people for weeks, and I’ve never heard of it,” I said.
He pursed his lips. “It is not something we advertise. We have enough trouble keeping away bandits and thieves as it is. If word of djageesh were to spread...” He said nothing more, letting us draw our own conclusions about the trouble the Fantazikes would attract if they were known to possess a powerful medicine capable of doing everything he’d claimed.
“Then why tell me about it?” Brigette slipped her spectacles back into place. “Do you trust me so much?”
“I do not trust you at all. But my clan leader charged me with the duty of assisting Evie, being her diplomat, and aiding her return to her throne.” He arched a haughty eyebrow, looking down his nose. “If you are what Evie needs to accomplish this task, then I will do all I can to assist her.”
“Such loyalty, Niffin.” I fluttered my lashes at him, teasing. It was an act, hiding the fact that his speech had nearly brought me to tears. He’d never defined our relationship so clearly, and I took great comfort in his words. “I’m not sure I’m worthy.”
He harrumphed, folded his arms over his chest, and said nothing.
Brigette squinted at me, distrust showing clearly on her face. “What’s brought you to this pinnacle of desperation, my lady? There are many Magicians who would happily work for you. The honor of being employed in the court of a queen—an elemental queen—is so rare, any Magician would fight for the chance.”
I tossed the uneaten portion of my sandwich on the tray and slumped on the bed next to Brigette. “And if I were to hire such a Magician, how could I trust them? Working for me might be attractive, but working for someone like Ruelle Thibodaux? How quickly might my secrets be sold for such an opportunity?”
A shadow fell over her face. She slumped down and rolled over, giving me her back. “But me, you can control. Give me strong medicine, and I’m yours, like a puppet. Control the pain, control the Magician.”
Heat blazed in my cheeks. “I never meant it like that—”
“I’m tired. Go away and let me sleep.”
Sensing further argument would only dig me into a deeper hole, I slipped off the bed and caught Malita and Niffin’s gaze. “Think about my offer, Brigette. You don’t know me well enough to trust me, but I really don’t want to control you. I’d prefer we be partners.” Ones who managed to reach a mutually beneficial agreement, but it seemed like a bad time to say as much.
Malita and Niffin followed me into the hallway. I closed the door behind them and leaned against it, sighing. Finding Brigette had been easier than expected, but convincing her to help me might require a small miracle. And I didn’t know if she was worth the trouble. Maybe she was a horrible, weak Magician whose spells couldn’t harm a gnat.
Your instincts tell you she’s better than that, Grandfather said. That girl in there is something. I can sense it.
I sense it too, I admitted.
“Give her time, Evie.” Malita gave my shoulder a conciliatory pat. “And remember she has not said no.”
Chapter 12
Brahm must have heard us coming down the stairs. He strode from a nearby room that might’ve been his office, based on the furnishings.
“So what does she say?” He had changed out of his everyman attire into plain but elegant trousers and a black silk waistcoat. He toyed with his pocket watch, swinging it like a pendulum on its fancy gold chain.
“She told us to go away and let her sleep,” I said.
He stuffed his watch into his waistcoat and scowled. “You were with her much longer than the length of time it takes someone to say, ‘Go away.’”
I tossed my hands out at my sides. “She doesn’t trust me. And I can’t say I blame her.”