Valek remained silent throughout my disclosure, neither commenting nor questioning. Finally, with ice crystallizing in his voice he said, “Brazell and Mogkan will be destroyed.”

Promise or a threat, I couldn’t tell, but with all of Valek’s force behind it, it was more than idle talk.

As if they had heard their names, Brazell and Mogkan stepped through the main door of the dungeon. Four guards holding lanterns escorted them. They stopped at our cells.

“It’s good to see you back where you belong,” Brazell said to me. “My desire to feel your blood on my hands has tempted me, but Mogkan has kindly informed me of your fate, should you not receive your antidote.” Brazell paused, and smiled with pure satisfaction. “Seeing my son’s killer writhing in excruciating pain will be better justice. I’ll visit later to hear your screams. And if you beg me, I might put you out of your misery, just so I can breathe in the hot scent of your blood.”

Brazell’s gaze bored into Valek’s cell. “Disobeying a direct order is a capital offense. Commander Ambrose has signed your death warrant. Your hanging is scheduled for noon tomorrow.” Brazell cocked his head, appraising Valek like a thoroughbred. “I think I shall have your head stuffed and mounted. You’ll make an effective decoration in my office when I become Commander.”

Laughing, Brazell and Mogkan left the dungeon. The darkness that flowed in after them felt even heavier than before. It pressed against my chest, giving me a tight, panicky feeling around my ribs. I paced my cell. My emotions swung from sheer terror to overwhelming despondency. I kicked at the bars, threw straw into the air and pounded on the walls.

“Yelena,” Valek finally said, “settle down. Get some sleep; you’ll need your strength for tonight.”

“Oh yeah, everyone needs to be well rested to die,” I said, but regretted my harshness when I remembered that Valek, too, faced death. “I’ll try.”

I lay on the foul straw, knowing it was futile to try and rest. How could anyone sleep her last hours away?

Apparently, I could.

I woke with a cry. My nightmare about rats melded with reality as I felt a warm, furry mass resting on my legs. Leaping to my feet, I kicked the rodent. It crashed into the wall and skittered away.

“Nice nap?” Valek asked.

“I’ve had better. My sleeping companion snored.”

Valek grunted in amusement.

“How long was I out?”

“It’s hard to tell without the sun. I’m guessing it’s close to sunset.”

I had received my last dose of antidote yesterday morning. That gave me until tomorrow morning to live, but the symptoms of the poison would take hold sometime tonight.

“Valek, I have a confess…” My throat closed. My stomach muscles contracted with such severity that I felt as if someone were trying to rip them from my body.

“What’s the matter?”

“Stomach cramp from hell,” I said, still gasping even though the pain had subsided. “Is this the start?”

“Yes. They begin slowly, but soon the convulsions will be continuous.”

Another wave of agony hit, and I crumpled to the floor. When it passed, I crawled to my straw bed, waiting for the next assault. Unable to endure the anticipation in silence, I said, “Valek, talk to me. Tell me something to distract me.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t care. Anything.”

“Here’s something you can take some comfort from—there’s no poison called Butterfly’s Dust.”

“What?” I wanted to scream at him, but a doubling-over, vomit-inducing convulsion hit, causing my abdominal muscles to feel as if they were being shredded with a knife.

When I was sensible again, Valek explained, “You’re going to want to die, wish you were already dead, but in the end you’ll be quite alive.”

“Why tell me now?”

“The mind controls the body. If you believed that you were going to die, then you might have died from that conviction alone.”

“Why wait until now to tell me?” I demanded, furious. He could have relieved my anguish.

“A tactical decision.”

I bit back a nasty reply. I tried to see his logic; to put myself in his place. My training sessions with Ari and Janco had included strategy and tactics. Janco had compared sparring to a card game. “Keep your best moves close to your chest and only use them when you’ve nothing left,” he had said.

An opportunity to escape might have presented itself during the day. In that case Valek wouldn’t have to show his last card and tell me about the poison.

“What about the cramps?” I asked just as another one seized my body. I rolled into a tight ball hoping to relieve some of the pain, but to no avail.

“Withdrawal symptoms.”

“From what?”

“Your so-called antidote,” Valek said. “It’s an interesting concoction. I use it to make someone sick. As the potion wears off, it produces stomach cramps worthy of a day in bed. It’s perfect for putting someone temporarily out of commission without killing him. If you continue to drink it, then the symptoms are forestalled until you stop.”

Of all the books I had studied, I didn’t recall reading about a tonic like that. “What’s the name?”

“White Fright.”

The knowledge that I wasn’t going to die erased the frightened panic and helped me to endure the pain. I viewed each contraction as a step that must be taken in order for me to be free of the substance.