"I have the antidote!"

Cas looked up from his desk to see Boreas striding into the tower, a big smile on his face and a vial in his left hand. A rush of relief flooded him, and he realised he'd been more worried about Isobel than he'd wanted to admit, even to himself.

"Then what are you waiting for?" he muttered before following the Spymaster into the connected bedchamber.

Isobel sat propped up on the bed with one of the books he'd brought back earlier in her lap. A few more books lay in a pile on the top of the small table next to her. He hadn't known what sort of book she preferred and had probably returned with far too many. She still looked pale and tired, but the potions Boreas supplied had definitely given her some energy back.

"It took a little longer than I had hoped," Boreas said as he carefully measured the amount he needed in a cup and mixed it with water from a jug. "I'm not exactly an expert alchemist, but I think we did it. You will have some now, and then some more in the morning. As I understand it, having too much of the antidote is nearly as bad as the poison itself."

Cas watched as the other man swirled the liquid in the mug, feeling somewhat uneasy. "You think you did it?"

"Yes." The Spymaster shrugged. "It's all we've got, so we might as well try it. Honestly, I'm fairly certain I did it correctly."

"It sounds good enough to me," Isobel said, setting aside her book with careful movements. The pain was obviously still bothering her, even if she would not complain. "Please hand it over."

After a quick glance at Cas—as if he expected him to lunge for the antidote—Boreas handed her the mug. They both watched as the sorceress drank the concoction. With a grimace, she handed the mug back.

"That tastes even worse than your potion for the pain."

"It's how you know it's the good stuff." Boreas grinned. With a nod to the covers pulled up to her chest, he asked, "Would you mind if I check on your wound? And it would be good to see how far the poison has spread so we can make sure it stops."

Isobel stifled a yawn. "Certainly."

Lying back against the pillows, she pushed the covers back and untied the tunic Cas had lent her since her robe had been torn to pieces. The piece of clothing was far too big on her, swallowing her slight form, but it had been the only thing available. He should probably try to find her a proper nightgown.

Boreas pulled the edges of the tunic apart, revealing her pale chest and the angry, dark lines of the poison spreading from the wound in her side. They had spread further since they saw them the previous night, winding their way between her breasts—which were thankfully still covered by the edges of the tunic—and up towards her neck. They covered her abdomen and hips, and Cas suspected they had reached her thighs underneath the covers.

"I can't believe you're alive," Boreas said as he inspected the dark tendrils. "Orc's Blood usually kills within a day if not treated, and with this spread you must have had it for at least two. The only ones resistant to this poison are... Well, orcs."

"That makes sense, though, doesn't it?" Cas said. "If it's orc's blood?"

The Spymaster gave him a look as if he thought him an idiot. Well, he probably did. "It's not literally orc blood. The poison is made from a rare plant that can only be found in Dreadlands, and even there it's difficult to find. The Orc's Blood bush. I hear the berries look like blood droplets."

"Right." Maybe he should have known that.

Boreas glanced at Isobel, a calculating look in his eyes. "You're obviously not an orc, and you're not immune. But you evidently have a higher resistance. Whatever the reason, it's making it spread slower and affects you less, but had you not made it here to get the antidote, you would have eventually succumbed."

Isobel nodded slowly, but said nothing. Cas had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly why she had a higher resistance. The Sorcerers had plenty of secrets they didn't share with the rest of the world, and this was probably one of them.

A faint memory from his time as a Sentinel in Highglaive flickered in his mind. Isobel and the other Adepts all falling ill at the same time, and it had happened more than once. He looked at the slight woman in his bed. Had the Sorcerers been poisoning their recruits to build up their resistance? It wouldn't surprise him. Fighting back a sour taste in his mouth, he remembered a young boy in his early teens who had not survived. Could they have prevented it?

Boreas made quick work of checking and cleaning out Isobel's wound before rebinding the bandages across her chest. Standing up, he smiled. "I will be back in the morning with your second dose, but it should work fairly quickly. If it's working as intended, the spread should have stopped by then. But even once the poison is gone, you will be weak for some time. I suggest you remain here until you have regained your strength."

"If it's no trouble, then please. It sounds like the wisest choice." Isobel sat back up before retying the tunic. "I don't want to leave before I can defend myself."

"You said you don't want anyone to know you're here," Boreas continued, tapping his nose with a finger. "We will need a cover story since it will be nigh impossible to hide you if you have to stay for more than a few days—which I reckon you will. Does anyone know what you look like? Cas, are there any guards here who would have met her?"

Cas mentally reviewed the men he'd brought with him from the city of Messina, all soldiers of the High King. "It's possible," he said. "But most of them are newer recruits, or ones that were never stationed in the castle. Sorceress Isobel rarely, if ever, joined council meetings with the High King, so the odds of someone having run into her are small."

"I will steer clear of people as much as possible, just in case," Isobel said.

"Excellent!" Boreas clapped his hands together. "But stay in bed for at least another two days. Once the poison has cleared from your body, you can begin moving around. Now, who shall we say you are?"

The Spymaster was obviously having far too much fun with this, his brown eyes twinkling happily.

"Eh... a simple traveller?" Isobel suggested.

Boreas scratched his nose. "No. I think we need to cover all our bases. What if someone sees you in Cas's quarters? That will raise some questions." His face broke into a smile. "Ah! I have it! We will say you're his sister."

Cas nearly choked. "My sister?"

The idea of thinking of Isobel as a sister in any manner seemed wrong in so many ways. Boreas met his gaze, and for a moment he could have sworn the sly man knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Is there a problem, Cas?" he asked shrewdly.

"No. It's the perfect cover story." He forced his tone to remain neutral. "No one would question why a sister might stay over with her brother. Only we look nothing alike."

Boreas scoffed. "My brothers are all above six feet and blond. Great, it's settled." He turned to Isobel with a grin. "Welcome to Fort Mael, Nisa, sister of Castel."

Cas couldn't remember ever telling his friend the name of his sister, but it probably shouldn't surprise him that the other man knew. The Spymaster probably had extensive files on every person at Fort Mael.

"Do I not get a say in this?" Isobel raised a dark eyebrow.

"No," Boreas confirmed happily. "Now that your presence doesn't have to be a secret, I will arrange for some supper to be sent here as well."

"How about a bath?" Isobel called after him as he walked out the door.

"I'll see what I can do!"

When they heard the door to the tower close in the next room, she smiled up at Cas. "So, brother?"

He groaned. "Please, don't call me that."

"Oh, thank the Gods." She sounded relieved. "That would have felt so strange. I really don't see you as a brother."

"What?" He knew he was staring, but he couldn't help himself. What did she mean?

A blush crept over her cheeks. "I mean... Ah..." Her voice trailed off, and then she sighed. "Orc's ass. I always say the most awkward things."

"It's all right," he interjected when it sounded like she might go on. "I don't see you as a sister either."

"Right! Of course." Her face brightened with a smile. "We knew each other in Highglaive all those years ago, and I don't think I could ever view a Sentinel as a brother. You were all so strict. No offence!"

"None taken." That wasn't remotely what he had meant, but he wasn't about to make a fool of himself by clarifying. "In any case, I must return to my reports. The High King is expecting one within the next few days."

She nodded. "I won't keep you. These books have turned out to be good company. It's been a long time since I had the chance to sit down and read for pleasure." She smiled warmly. "Thank you for bringing them to me."

"It was nothing," he mumbled as he quickly retreated. Whenever she smiled like that, it reminded him of how he had always wanted to kiss that smile.

Sister, indeed. He scoffed inwardly. Was Boreas torturing him on purpose?

~~~~~~