The Salbine Sisters Read Online Free Page B

potion or have a little accident.”
    “Accident?” she asked in a shriller voice than she would have liked.
    “Working out a formula involves trial and error, Maddy. Some errors are . . . er, more spectacular than others.”
    She swallowed. “Oh.”
    “Don’t worry. I won’t be brewing anything tonight.”
    “What does Mistress Meredith need?” Maddy asked, wondering again what Mistress Meredith would want with poison.
    “That’s Mistress Meredith’s affair,” Lillian said.
    Maddy made a mental note to be more careful around Mistress Meredith from now on. She refocused on her surroundings, squinting at two torches flickering in the gloom ahead.
    Once again, Lillian ignored the bucket of torches standing at the catacomb’s entrance. She descended the stone steps, pushed open the door, and led Maddy down more steps to a lower passage. Maddy resisted the urge to grab the back of Lillian’s robe so she wouldn’t lose her only light source. Her heart pounded as she imagined herself wandering the maze of passages in the dark, hopelessly lost, her cries falling on the deaf ears of long-dead sisters. She wasn’t claustrophobic, but the narrow passage and the shadows dancing on its walls unsettled her.
    “Why didn’t you take one of the torches?” Lillian asked when Maddy, determined to stay right behind Lillian, bumped into her.
    “Because you’re lighting the way,” Maddy said. “And I didn’t think you wanted me to,” she added faintly.
    She was close enough to feel as well as hear Lillian’s chuckle. “Well, we’re almost there,” was all Lillian said. A minute later, she stopped in front of a door and pulled an iron key from her robe pocket. “I need both hands for this,” she murmured. The ball of fire disappeared, plunging them into darkness. “Why don’t you try holding fire? It’s not much different than lighting a candle. You want to focus on the point just above your hand.”
    “What do you do when you’re alone?” Maddy asked, her insides fluttering. What if the fire touched her hand? What if she couldn’t do it?
    “I stick the torch in the sconce next to the door,” Lillian said.
    So Lillian normally used a torch? She’d been showing off! Elation chased away Maddy’s nervousness. She wanted to kiss Lillian, but since she couldn’t see her, she’d probably end up planting one on her nose or an eyebrow.
    “A ball of fire, please,” Lillian ordered.
    “All right.” Maddy closed her eyes, turned inward, and reached for Salbine’s raging fire. She could sense it, feel it, smell it, but she couldn’t draw it, no matter how hard she tried. Frustration threatened her concentration. She felt the same way she did when a word on the tip of her tongue eluded her. Fire swirled around her, taunting her; why wouldn’t fire flow through her? Her hands clenched; her lips compressed. Salbine, aid me, I beseech You!
    She felt light-headed and reached out to steady herself. Her fingers collided with stone; she gasped, then doubled over when pain stabbed through her.
    A steadying hand touched her elbow. “Are you all right?” Lillian asked.
    Maddy lifted her head. Lillian’s concerned face swam before her, illuminated by the fire that once again flickered above her hand. “I—I don’t know,” she stammered, then grimaced as a wave of nausea washed over her.
    “Let me take you back to your chambers.”
    “No! I tried too hard, that’s all.”
    Lillian’s brows drew together. “Are you sure? Because I didn’t sense anything.”
    “I’m sure!” she snapped. “I must be doing something wrong. I’m sorry.”
    “No, I’m sorry.” Lillian let go of Maddy’s elbow. “I shouldn’t have asked you to try something new, not tonight. Because . . . well, we’re not here as tutor and pupil, are we?”
    “I didn’t think so,” Maddy said quietly. Now that her physical discomfort had passed, humiliation was setting in. “But I obviously have a lot of work to do to pass my