Captive (30 page)

Aeisla struck her fist on the table in the ritual motion to finish her saga and called for praise for Sulitea, a demand answered by a fresh chorus of applause. Sitting, she took a full swallow of mead, pleased with herself but glad to have completed the embarrassing task. As she replaced her goblet on the table she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder and turned to find Aurora behind her.

‘The elixir,’ Aurora said quietly. ‘You made it to proper specifications?’

‘Not entirely,’ Aeisla admitted. ‘We could find no black mandrake, nor chevrotains. The cherry juice we also omitted.’

‘Then stop taking it,’ Aurora went on, ‘or within the year you will be more like your father than you anticipated – a man.’

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