Little by little, Lily pulled together the story. Arjenie was thinking in sentences more often this time, aware that Lily was “hearing” her and trying to be clear, but it was still nothing like the crisp mindspeech Sam used. Plus Lily’s ability faded in and out, and she had to go back and ask again. And again.
“But you believe Dya could have crafted such a potion. One that would cause a heart attack.”
Oh, yes, humans are easy to … Binai make incredibly sophisticated potions that can’t be detected … why they’re feared and coveted says her people couldn’t survive without … but her lord holds her contract don’t know what realm he’s in but sure not here don’t see how Friar got hold of it. Of her.
“I have an idea about that.” Lily was vaguely aware of her head throbbing and wished she could rub her neck, but she needed her one useable hand to … oh. Shit.
She looked at Arjenie, who was thinking about a complex jumble of rules called Queens’ Laws, then at Rule. And sighed. “I’m getting the beginning of a headache. It feels like a normal headache, nothing spooky, but I promised.” She let go of Arjenie’s hand.
The sudden silence in her head was wonderful. Did Sam pick up everyone’s mental chatter all the time? Surely not. She’d ask, though.
“Lily?” Rule looked worried.
“It’s a tension headache.” She could feel the tightness all across her shoulders and neck and scalp. “I’m okay. Now,” she said, looking around at the others. “You probably picked up some ideas from what I asked, but with lots of gaps. Plus we jumped around some. I’ll see if I can put it in order.
“The binding is all about Dya. Dya is Arjenie’s half sister, and the result of a contract job for Eledan. Her other half is Binai, a non-sidhe race who live in one of the sidhe realms. When Arjenie was fourteen, Eledan showed up suddenly with Arjenie’s half sister in tow. She’s small enough for him to take with him when he crosses, apparently. He wanted Arjenie’s family to keep Dya for a while.
“Eledan explained that Dya’s people—her elders—wanted to start her on something called the tears. Eledan thought she was too young for that. Ah … I didn’t understand all of this, but there was something about a contract that allowed him to negotiate for Dya. Or maybe he could do that because he was her father. Anyway, when Arjenie’s aunt and uncle learned what the tears were like, they agreed. Dya stayed with them for over a year. She learned our language and other Earthly things—like how to use a phone.
“That’s how she contacted Arjenie about a week ago. Friar is keeping her at a little guest cottage behind his house. She’s sort of on loan to him—there’s a big-deal sidhe lord who holds her contract.”
“What does this contract cover?” Isen asked.
Lily shrugged. “Arjenie doesn’t know specifics. She believes the Binai hold contracts as sacred, inviolable. Um, when I asked, she thought that the closest analogue we have would be the kind of contracts signed by indentured servants back when we were a colony, only a lot more important. Anyway, Dya managed to make a phone call to Arjenie, who flew out here to see her, but secretly. Arjenie’s afraid of what Friar would do to Dya if he found out. The night Benedict ran into Arjenie at Friar’s was the first time she’d seen her sister since she was sixteen. They talked. Dya gave Arjenie the two potions and told her what to do with them.”
“And these potions were supposed to do—what?” Isen asked
“One was to nullify Arjenie’s scent, so she wouldn’t leave a scent trail. The other … Dya called it an undoer. Supposedly it would undo any other potion she’d made—and one of her potions had already been dumped into Nokolai’s water supply.”
Benedict made a small sound. Lily paused, giving him a chance to speak, but he waved for her to continue. “I wondered about that. If Friar is one of her agents, he couldn’t come into Clanhome without the Rho and the Rhej being aware of it. Or something like that. Or so I’ve been told?”
Isen answered. “You were told correctly. If Friar has been touched—changed—by her, the mantle would react to his presence on Clanhome. But he could send someone who didn’t bear her taint. Most or all of his people probably don’t.”
Arjenie spoke for the first time in quite awhile. “Mantle? What’s a—”
“Later,” Benedict told her.
Mantles were not to be spoken of around out-clan … but a Chosen was clan, even if she didn’t know it yet. Lily felt a pang for all Arjenie had yet to learn, but went on. “It seems that Dya’s people, the Binai, are famous for their potions. I get the idea there aren’t many Binai, and the ones who can make top-grade potions are rare. They don’t make them in the usual way, though. The women—only the women—manufacture them in their bodies. They can do this because of the tears. The Binai have this gland that makes a nasty poison like a snake’s venom. The tears change them, body and brain, so they can control what kind of substance they excrete, tailor it and give it magical properties. But they also render the Binai permanently dependent. Dya has to receive the tears daily. Friar controls her supply.
“These potions are special. Highly targeted. They—the Binai—are used as healers sometimes, and for other things, but most of all—well, the potions are undetectable once they’ve done their work. That makes them the best damn poisoners in the business.”
“Ruben’s heart attack,” Cynna said.
“Oh, yeah.” Though proving it was going to be one helluva challenge.
“And the first potion someone emptied into our water?” Isen said, his voice dropping to a growl. “What was it?”
“Dya wouldn’t tell Arjenie what that one was supposed to do, just that it would be very bad. She—Arjenie—thinks it had to reach critical mass before it took effect. People had to drink the tainted water for several days for enough of the ‘very bad’ potion to build up in their bodies before anything happened. Arjenie emptied the undoer into the well nearest the road before the bad potion took effect. She’s certain there’s no danger from the original potion now.”
Lily glanced at Arjenie, who was silent and tense. “Arjenie wanted me to tell you that her sister isn’t evil. She’s constrained by her contract to do what Friar wants. She’s been taught from infancy that contracts are inviolable. She’s also been taught that providing a weapon is not the same, morally, as using a weapon. If wrong is done by Friar, that’s on his head, not hers. Plus, of course, Friar has the tears.”
Silence. Rule broke it to say, “You believe what she’s told you. Or thought at you, I suppose I should say.”
Lily hesitated. “I don’t know if it’s possible to lie in this kind of mindspeech. It isn’t like when Sam talks to us. Arjenie’s thoughts trail all this—this stuff along with them. Not feelings—I don’t pick up those. More like snatches of memory and meaning. I think if she tried to lie with her thoughts, the trailing stuff would tip me off.”
“That’s a yes, then,” Cullen said. “Next question. How do we get Dya away from Friar?”
“Oh,” Arjenie said. Her eyes filled. “Oh.”
Lily didn’t want Arjenie thinking it would be that simple. “We can’t just rush in and grab her. We don’t have cause for a warrant yet.”
Isen smiled. “You would need a warrant. We do not.”
“Don’t say stuff like that.” Lily dropped her head and ran her hand through her hair. “Look, Arjenie isn’t sure Dya would even come with us if we tried to smuggle her out. Even if we got the tears, too—and we’d have to—Arjenie doesn’t know if Dya would leave because of the contract. She’s got a different set of ethics and imperatives than we do, and we can’t assume she’d do what looks logical to us. Plus Dya doesn’t think she’s in danger, so we’ve got time to do this right. Right means more than getting Dya away from Friar. It means stopping him. To do that, we need evidence. I’ve got some ideas about that.”