Gene of Isis

throat…his hands and feet are icy cold. I fear we shall lose him to dehydration before long.’

In the young master’s withdrawing room we found the manservant of Master de Guise keeled over and vomiting into a woodbin. He too had muddy patches superimposing the higher centres of his light-body, but his disease had extended down through his stomach as well.

The true cause of the illness was soon clear to me. I smelt it as soon as I entered the young master’s chambers. ‘Fresh paint,’ I eyed the deadly walls, ‘of lethal green.’

‘The curse is spreading!’ The maidservant panicked.

‘This is not the work of a curse.’ I gripped both her shoulders to calm her. ‘The illness stems from the paint on these walls. Find me some liquid ammonia and I shall verify that,’ I instructed. ‘Tie a scarf over your nose and mouth, so that you do not breathe in any more of the paint fumes.’ I found my handkerchief and used it for that purpose. ‘Have that man taken to another room. He needs to be in darkness and silence…that will slow the poison.’

‘Poison!’ The maid was shocked.

‘Do as I tell you, quickly, for I suspect arsenic poisoning. Ammonia will turn this paint blue if it contains copper arsenate.’

‘But the master’s chambers…’ The maid began to weep and I made haste to the bedroom door. ‘Get some help up here to move these people!’ I ordered, shocking the maidservant into action. ‘No one comes into these rooms.’

There wasn’t much left of the six-year-old boy. The duke’s physicians had obviously used all their remedies on him, as the room reeked of the smell of medicine regurgitated.

‘Dear gods, what am I going to do?’ I knew what had caused the illness but I had no idea how to heal it, or if in fact it could be healed.

The answer is between your breasts.

I was startled by Albray’s brazen claim only as long as it took me to fathom his meaning. ‘The Star!’ I’d been carrying it for so long I’d forgotten it was even there. ‘The powder will cure him?’ I asked.

Completely, Albray assured. So, if you don’t want this to look like some sort of miracle, you’d better come up with some feasible explanation for his speedy recovery.

‘Chiara might know an antidote for arsenic poisoning,’ I suggested.

I shall return. Albray vanished.

I discarded the bedclothes, as everything in these rooms was likely to be permeated with the poison. ‘Hold on, little one.’ I bundled the child into my arms and went in search of another room, in any colour but green.

Albray returned with a list of ingredients to make an infusion, and I relayed the potion’s preparation to the head maidservant. It was only after much scientific study, later in life, that I realised the ingredients of Chiara’s brew were very high in iron, and that, by modern standards, was a perfect arsenic antidote.

It seemed to take an age for the servants to return with the broth, but in the interim the head steward reported he’d confirmed my suspicions—the ammonia had reacted on the paint as I had described and the findings were being reported to the duke.

‘Good old Nanny.’ I sat alone in the darkened room with the young master. It was only due to her suspicion of green that I’d known about the ammonia reaction to copper arsenate, for Nanny always carried a small vial of ammonia when shopping for fabric.

The young Master de Guise was fading fast. ‘Albray, perhaps we should not wait for the alibi?’

If you expose your talents, or that you carry the Star vial on your person, this situation is going to become much more complicated.

The boy’s breathing stopped altogether.

‘Please, not yet…’ I reached down into the neck of my gown to retrieve the Star vial.

Someone approaches, Albray warned me to refrain.

‘He’s dead, Albray!’ I was panicking. I needed time to form a strategy. How could I save any of us now? ‘We hesitated too long.’

Our plan is still sound, Albray assured me. Just make sure the maid does not learn of the boy’s passing.

To buy us time, I assumed, but when the door to the room opened and the maidservant entered I was forced to quickly address the situation. ‘Put it down over there. Thank you, and leave quietly,’ I instructed in a whisper, trying not to sound too desperate.

‘My duke requested that I look over the master and report on his condition.’ The weighty maid strode toward the bed.

‘Your report to the duke shall be far more positive if you give the infusion a half hour to do its work,’ I said.

The maid turned back to me. ‘I must say I feel much better for having had a cup of your brew, Miss Winston.’

‘It is an old gypsy remedy,’ I confessed.

The maid stared at me, horrified, but then shrugged and smiled. ‘Today has been a most enlightening day, miss.’ She curtseyed to me, which she was certainly not required to do. ‘I shall speak with you in half an hour.’ She waddled to the door. ‘Can I fetch you some tea and something to eat?’

‘I’d greatly appreciate that.’ Despite my panic, I was starving.

‘A Last Supper perhaps?’ I said to Albray once we were alone. He stood out in the darkness, his spirit glistening like an angel. ‘Now what do you suggest we do?’