Thread of Darkness

Ch. 24: as if he were a faraway star

A lump rose in her throat.

But Isaac wasn't here. He wanted nothing to do with them. And there was no point wishing for things that you couldn't change.

Anna set down a candlestick. "Ten days."

Camille blinked. "What?"

Anna pointed. "Do you see the grey tinge of his skin? His organs are shutting down, which leads to discoloration. I've seen it happen before when I worked as a healer." Her voice was very calm. "Patients never last more than ten days."

Her grip tightened. "Stop."

"His appetite will diminish," Anna continued. "His joints will become stiff. At some point, the congestion in his lungs will result in breathing pattern changes. He won't be able to get enough oxygen into his body."

Anguish spiked through her. "I said stop."

"Let me be very clear." Anna's gaze was steady. "If you don't tell us what's wrong with him, then your fiancé will be dead within a fortnight. Perhaps sooner."

"Fine." Camille covered her face. "Fine. I'll tell you. Just give me a moment."

The pounding in her skull was receding now, like a wave pulling away from shore. She drew a shaky breath.

Then she began.

She told them about Ryne's visit to the Portrait Room. The curse Lucia put on him. How nobody could love him without dying. She was about to tell the others about finding the Portrait Room in ruins when Eris shifted, catching her attention. Camille swallowed.

"And that's it," she said. "The whole of it."

Five faces stared back at her.

"You're certain?" Anna asked.

She was leaning against the desk. Her face was bloodless, her neck red and patchy where she'd rubbed it. Her eyes were the colour of first frost, so blue and cold that you almost couldn't stand to look at them.

Camille frowned. "Of course I'm certain."

Anna braced a hand on the table. "That's exactly what Ryne said to you? That anyone that loves him romantically will take on the curse and die?"

"Yes."

"It's true," John said.

They all turned to look at him. John was clutching his clipboard to his chest, but he looked unsurprised. Ryne must have told him about the curse already, Camille realized; he'd left that part out.

"You knew?" Brigid asked.

She'd half-risen from her chair, her expression murderous. John swallowed.

"Ryne asked me not to say anything."

"He was a child, John." Brigid's hands were shaking. "A fourteen-year-old boy. He has no idea what he wants."

John's mouth tightened. "He's my King."

"If he dies," Brigid said, "I will never forgive you for keeping this from me." Her voice was slow and deliberate. "Never."

John looked away. "It was a consequence I was willing to accept."

"I'll kill her." Brigid rose, her dark eyes flashing. "I don't care if she's a goddess. If she kills my boy, then I'll put a sword through her myself."

Silence fell.

Ryne's laboured breathing filled the room. Brigid's hands were flat on the desk, her knuckles white. Anna was staring blankly at a candlestick. Even Eris, Camille thought, was being uncharacteristically quiet.