"How'd you know? Maybe I'm far worse," Giacinto smiled, "Far, far worse."

Piero laughed. Threw his head back and laughed. A dying madman, despair in his eyes and fear swirling restlessly in his stomach.

"Dramatic. Points for trying," Giacinto's lips pressed into a sour line.

"He's death," seethed Piero. "You're just a scared little man playing with knives."

"I'm very good at it though."

"It'll be nothing compared to what he'll do if I talk," spat Piero.

Laelia watched helplessly as her friend turned more and more into something dark. Something poisonous. Of course, Giacinto loved provoking everyone. Poking until they snapped. He was just as easily provoked. She knew his intentions were good, saving them, saving their home. They had to be good. But he seemed ready to rip a man to shreds to get what he wanted.

She tugged at Alessandro's sleeve, keeping her eyes fixed on Giacinto. She was scared to even blink. As if the second she'd take her eyes off him he'd snap.

The officer turned his head towards her.

"We need to stop him," she whispered.

Alessandro was silent for a moment.

Laelia looked up to him, afraid she would find the same darkness in his eyes. There was only grim disfavour.

"Marinos," his voice was stern, calling back a misbehaved dog.

Giacinto turned.

They should've known that wouldn't work: if anything, Giacinto was a cat. And when you tell a cat 'No' they look at you and slowly push the vase off the drawer.

Alessandro inclined his head, beckoning him over.

Giacinto mustered Piero. "If I stab you in the stomach just right, it'll take a few days for you to die. And it hurts like a bitch." He drew lines in the air with the tip of his dagger. "You don't actually die of blood loss. There'll be nasty infection right inside of you. And you can't stop it. I should tell you I have excellent aim."

Laelia felt Alessandro go stiff more than she saw it. She didn't have to ask either to know what he was thinking -- she was thinking it too. Iacobo. The painter, shot right in his liver. Setting himself on fire to leave a clue -- and escape a pain that would only get worse over hours. She trusted Giacinto. She really did. But should she? What if she had been wrong along? Talked Alessandro into trusting the enemy? But this was Giacinto! He mother had always scolded her for being to open-hearted. Trying to pet the stray dogs -- they could bite you, Laelia! Chatting with commoners -- they could rob you, or worse! Befriending a man she didn't know, just because he told actual jokes. "Giacinto!"

The Greek rolled his eyes, but let the knife disappear into its sheath with an artful twirl. He stalked over to them. "What?"

"You can't torture him!" Laelia burst out. "That'd make you no better than them!"

"It'd keep us alive," Giacinto shrugged.

"It's wrong!"

"So is breaking out of a prison, but if I hadn't Alessandro and I would dangle from the gallows by noon."

"That's different!" Laelia wrung her hands.

"How?" He silenced her with a harsh wave of his hand. "Because we were framed? Don't you see? They know where we are. As long as we don't know how they find us, they'll keep sending assassin's after us. And one day," his nostrils flared in an angry huff, "one day I might not wake up in time. One day I might not be there. One day I might see your body on the floor and I will be too late. And I'm not," his fists clenched, "going to let that happen. If you die, I'll have to be long dead."

Laelia blinked. She opened her mouth to say something, but all words in her mind had evaporated in the heat rolling off in angry waves off Giacinto.

"You will not torture that man," Alessandro decided. He sounded so sure. So strong.

Giacinto snapped his head to glare at him. Before he could start another fight with Alessandro, a wet cough interrupted them.

Piero was spluttering in his chair, head vent low as foam dripped from his lips. He groaned.

Giacinto strode over, crouching down in front of him. He forced his head up with one hand, checking his pulse with the other.

Piero's eyes were wide with fear, cold sweat draped over him like a shroud.

"Oops, I guess they didn't tell you. You're supposed to die." Giacinto said.

He turned, raising a questioning eyebrow at the other two.

Alessandro sighed. "Kill him." He looked away, jaw clenched.

Laelia's eyes widened. "What? How can you say tha-"

"He shouldn't suffer."

"No! I'll save him!" She shouted before she actually thought about it. Could she? She had told Alessandro if the Reaper would poison one of them, she could most certainly cure it. She'd prove he hadn't been wrong to take her with them. "I will save him." Her voice was firm and loud for the first time today.

Both men looked at each other.

"We can't waste time on him here." Giacinto shook his head.

"We're not wasting time, we're saving a life."

"Hell," the Greek threw up his hands, "he'd kill us without a second thought! He's our enemy."

"He's a human being!"

"Do it." Alessandro said, nodding at Laelia.

"You're not the leader here," Giacinto spat.

They would make that much more progress if Giacinto could just stop snapping at Alessandro all the time. She wondered what it was that he didn't like about the other. Surely it couldn't all be about being accused of murder at first. He wasn't that snappy.

"I said you won't torture that man." Alessandro's voice was hard.

Giacinto's was sharp. "And I don't listen to you."

Laelia used their shifted attention to sneak over to Piero. The man had slumped forwards -- as much as the ropes would let him -- breathing shakily, thighs trembling, the veins in his neck a strange greenish tint. He didn't even seem to notice her.

She reached out, touching his cheek. He was ice cold.

His head snapped up, whipping to the side to stare at her. She jumped, heart hammering in her chest. She inched closer again. She could barely hear Alessandro and Giacinto hiss at each other behind her.

"I'm Laelia," she offered. "I can help you. If I do, will you tell us how they track us?" Her muscles ached with tension, ready to propel her away should he jump her like a rabid beast.

Piero wheezed, spit smearing his chin. His face was as pale as a bone. "They'll find me. It'll be ... worse!"

"We've gotten away from them. We'll keep you safe." Laelia spoke slowly, calm voice soft and reassuring. "Will you tell us what you know?"

The man's eyes flickered to something behind her.

"He won't hurt you."

Piero's eyes were wild, half unfocused already, pained and terrified, wide and racing through the room as if he were an animal seeing the butcherer approach. His lip trembled. "Please!"

Laelia smiled, clapping her hands.

Giacinto appeared behind her. She knew it was him because she couldn't actually hear him walk over, just felt his presence.

"He says he'll talk!" She turned her head to beam up at the frowning Greek.

"He will," Giacinto said. His eyes were trained on Piero. "And we will regret this."

"You're letting me? I knew you weren't bad!"

"I can't stop you," he shook his head. He looked ... hurt? He gritted his teeth. It was hard to tell, she didn't think she'd seen him hurt before. She didn't think anything would get through the jokes and the snaps and the sharp features. But something did... His eyes closed for a moment and it was gone.

She quickly crouched down next to Piero. Maybe he go injured during the fight with Piero? No, there hadn't been any... She reached out, touching the foam dripping down the other's chin. She smelled her finger. Wouldn't hurt him to brush his teeth. What are you thinking Lia, he's dying! She wrinkled her nose. There was a sharp note to it, making her eyes water, acidic, slightly sour. Something tugged at the back of her mind. She checked his pulse. Irregular and erratic, as if his heart was jumping in fear. A suspicion formed. She tilted his head back, pulling back a half closed eyelid. A yellow hue had seeped into the white of his eyes. No... please, not that. "Are you thirsty?"

Piero nodded. At least she thought he did, his head lolling strangely back and forth.

Please...

A gurgle snapped her attention back. Piero's shoulder's were shaking, eyes wide, then he suddenly started to convulse and heave and retch. Laelia ripped the knife right from Giacinto's hip. She had to be fast. She flew around the chair, hands gripping his arms to keep them steady as he shook like a naked man in the Russian winter. She tried sawing at the ropes, slipping whenever she thought she could make it. He was moving to much. Hold still! She needed to get the ropes off. But Giacinto had tied them far to tight and with a strange knot and they just wouldn't budge. Her hand started trembling. She wouldn't make it.

Giacinto pushed her aside, warm fingers taking the knife from her. His hand was steady. The ropes fell.

Piero's entire body lunged forward as he threw up.

Laelia rushed around him, not caring if her silken shoes smeared through yellow vomit. Dotted red ...

Then Alessandro was there, strong hands holding their supposed killer up in the chair. Piero's head lolled back.

"Tilt the head forward! He'll choke on the vomit!" Laelia said.

Alessandro reacted immediately.

Piero clawed at his stomach, twisting like a dying snake.

Laelia closed her eyes. She knew what poison had been used. "It's Amanita mushrooms." Slow development of symptoms. Enough for Piero to get to them without suspecting he, too, was the Reaper's victim. "Hold on. I can save you." She couldn't.

When she raced to her bag, rummaging through it and throwing everything on the bed, she didn't even know what she was looking for. She had to know! Mother always knew what to do! Not even her mother could cure this... She kept turning her back inside out. Maybe she'd stumble upon something, get this brilliant idea -- her eyes met Giacinto's. He knew she was lying. But he didn't say anything, turning away quietly. Her glance fell down to a small bag. Belladonna... She had always loved that name. Maybe it would bring her luck.

She turned it over in her hand. She couldn't do that... could she? He wouldn't be in pain. Her stomach churned. She glanced at Piero. He had gone limp. Alessandro was trying to keep him awake, shaking the man. Giacinto looked torn, pacing. Her fingers closed around the bag.

Belladonna. She could use it as an anesthetic. It'd stop the cramps, block the pain. Maybe it'd even stop the sweating. Her eyes flitted over the mess on the bed. Cloves. She snatched the pouch. Ease the nausea. Peppermint, Elcampane. Help with breathing. Oregano. One of the strongest pain killers she knew. Almost as strong as morphine. She gathered them in her arms, rushing to the tiny table at the wall. She threw the plants and pulvers all into her mortar. Tiny beads of sweat slipped down her temple when she ground them to a fine blend. Her upper arms ached. Grinding herbs was supoosed to be slow. Almost religious. Careful. They didn't have that time. "Water, I need water!"

Giacinto wordlessly tossed her his flask. She doubted it was water. It'd have to make due. She splashed the hem of her dress when she poured it in, hectic hands almost knocking the bowl over. She tripped over her own feet trying to get to Piero in time. Once the poison set in, it acted fast.

"Open your mouth. You need to swallow this!"

Piero gagged when she stuffed the paste into his mouth, smearing his chin and her fingers. He swallowed. A violent breath left Laelia. She felt relieved. Lightheaded. Victorious.

She felt terrible.

She couldn't cure him. But she could make him think she did.