Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
I look down at my hands, as if they will tell me something, then up at Andor and Steiner. “I don’t know. The same.”
“Give it time,” Andor says. “The dominant traits always come through quick, but the later doses trigger a smaller and slower response.”
“I told you,” I say, giving him a level look, “I’ve taken plenty before. And the real versions, not this lab-altered stuff. Red egg yolk straight back from a glass. This isn’t going to do anything.”
There’s no use getting my hopes up at this point. Though I might look down on the substance from time to time, it’s only out of jealousy. I want to gain some kind of advantage, some way to make me feel less weak. But I’ve made peace with it. I’ve learned to rely on myself and only myself, without anything extra.
Steiner continues to look at me in disbelief, and I have another sip of my drink while he stares. “It should be doing something. My intelligence expanded right away. In an hour, I was as smart as I’ll ever be. Everything after that was just icing on the cake. Heightened senses, speed, though not strength. Not yet. I’ll see how much time has passed before I dare take more.”
I want to ask him what happens if you take too much, but instead I look to Andor. “And what was your dominant trait?”
“Nothing too useful,” he says, his words blunt, his expression turning dark.
“He can heal,” Steiner says. “With his hands.” Now his brows come together, his eyes guarded as he looks away. “Wounds, ailments, things like that,” Steiner adds quickly.
Tension seems to fill the air suddenly, an odd dynamic between brothers taking center stage. All I can think about is that he can heal. His hands heal. Is that what I saw him do with Lemi? That was more than just healing, that was bringing him back to life.
“Can you heal…” I begin, licking my lips, my heart feeling suspended as I work toward an answer. “Can you heal a disease? An affliction? Something that causes someone great pain?”
He frowns and his face seems to pale. He gives his head a small shake. “I’m not sure. I wouldn’t count on it.”
“But I saw…” I begin.
But his nostrils flare, his eyes sharpening as if they were a blade threatening me to stay quiet.
“Saw what?” Steiner asks curiously, looking between the both of us.
“Nothing,” I tell him. “I saw nothing.” I make a note to talk to Andor about this in private. Is this why my path crossed with his? Could he possibly be the solution to my problems? I don’t dare get my hopes up.
I change the subject. “So what traits does the rest of your family have?”
“Solla can move things with her mind,” Steiner says. “She’s only had one dose of suen, though. She has no interest in taking more. I suppose she won the jackpot with hers, so why need to? As for our uncle, you’d be surprised—or disappointed—to know he’s hard to kill. Meanwhile our father is a master of alchemy and transmutation, with some precognition, and Vidar is good at mind control.”
Mind control. Fuck. Remind me to be on even higher alert around him.
“Are you sure you’re not feeling anything?” Steiner asks, looking me over. “Maybe it’s something useless or subtle. Maybe you can see beyond the colorscope or smell things that others can’t?”
“I’m feeling annoyed by your badgering, does that count?”
“Your parents must have taken it,” Steiner ventures. “Your immunity can’t be genetic.”
“My parents?” I almost laugh. They really don’t know what it’s like to be an Eslander, do they? “They never took it. They never even had the option. Is it really as widespread as you make it seem to be? Does every Norlander take it?”
“No,” says Andor firmly. “It’s reserved for the royals, for the houses, and for the armies. Those are the only people we will sell the suen to. Some people are able to buy it on the black market—a market even more discreet than the one we deal with—but it’s very expensive and most commoners can’t afford it. Besides, the king has declared it illegal, and people are thoroughly punished when they’re caught taking it. That doesn’t just go for Norland, but also in Altus Dugrell and Vesland.”
“How are they punished?” I ask, thinking of how Eslanders deal with everything—by sentencing people to either death or the Daughters of Silence.
“Their punishment is joining the army,” Steiner says. “Men, women, anyone. The king won’t waste a drop of the power. The person will have to use it to fight for Norland.”
“My father has often floated the idea of selling some of the excess suen, if there ever were any, to other markets,” Andor remarks, “but the king would shut us all down and find another house to supply them.”