Hyacinthe glances in the direction that the Ghost went. Courtiers are still sitting on blankets, so there’s no chance of the hunt starting up again immediately. Oak needs to find out what information the spy has.
Garrett already disappeared into the Milkwood, somehow slipping between the white trunks.
With a glance toward Wren and a reminder that he needs to keep his temper, Oak remounts the kelpie and heads in the direction the Ghost went. His head is swimming. He’s got to keep himself under control. Surely whatever it is that the spy knows will help Oak understand the constraints on Wren and who put them there.
He rides a little farther and looks down at his hand, which has started to tremble. He still has the sensation of being underwater. And with it, he feels a rush of something entirely too familiar.
Blusher mushroom.He’s been poisoned.
He thinks of the honey wine, sweet enough to hide the flavor. Honey wine, given into his hand by the Ghost.
The prince laughs out loud. Of all the things the Ghost knows about murder, apparently he doesn’t know that this is the one poison to which Oak is immune. If the spy hadn’t decided to go with the symmetry of finishing the job the way he’d begun it, Oak might really be dead.
The prince draws his sword.
Oh, he’s going tomurderthe spy. The Ghost thinks he knows what Oak can do, but he isn’t aware of his other lessons, from Madoc. Garrett doesn’t know what Oak has become under his father’s tutelage. Doesn’t know how many people he’s already slain.
The prince urges Jack north through the brambles, past the columns of pale trees. Finally, he comes upon a clearing. The kelpie stops short. For a moment, Oak doesn’t understand what he’s looking at.
There, in a tangle of vines, lies a body.
Oak slides down from the kelpie’s back to draw closer. The man’s mouth is stained purple. His eyes are open, staring up at the late afternoon sky as though lost in contemplation of the clouds.
“Garrett?” Oak says, leaning down to shake him.
The Ghost does not move. He does not even blink.
The prince’s fingers close on his shoulder. The spy’s body is hard beneath his hand, more like fossilized wood than flesh.
Dead. The man who murdered his mother. The spy who had trained him to move quietly, to wait. Who bounced Leander on his shoulders. Taryn’s lover. Jude’s friend.
Dead. Impossibly dead.
Which means that Garrett didn’t poison Oak. He shared his poisoned wine, all unknowing.
CouldHyacinthehave done this? He might have thought dosing the Ghost with what killed Liriope to be fitting—a symmetry of a different kind. And if he knew that Oak wouldn’t die from it, he wouldn’t be kind enough to stop him from drinking a portion of the blusher mushroom. He wouldn’t care if Oak suffered a little.
But if itwasn’tHyacinthe, then it came down to the question of what the Ghost had learned. What he wanted to tell Oak. What they needed to go to Jude with. What couldn’t wait.
CHAPTER
20
Guards and courtiers thunder up all around Oak. Did he cry out? Did Jack? The kelpie is standing beside the prince now, but he doesn’t remember when Jack stopped being a horse. The noise and confusion mirror Oak’s thoughts. People are shouting at one another, making Oak dizzy.
Or maybe that’s the blusher mushroom still slowing his blood.
Jack is insisting they found the Ghost like this and someone is sayinghow horrifyingand a lot of other meaningless words that blend together in Oak’s mind.
Taryn is screaming, a high keening sound. She’s on her knees beside the spy, shaking him. When she looks up at Oak, her gaze is so full of grief and accusation that he has to look away.
I hated him, Oak thinks. But he’s not even sure that’s true. He never knew Liriope, and he knew Garrett.I should have hated him. I wanted to hate him.
He didn’t kill him, though.
He didn’t kill him, but he might have. He could have. Could he have?
Jude moves to Taryn’s side, one hand going to her twin’s shoulders. Fingers pressing reassuringly.
