Excerpt from The Devil and the Dark Water by Stuart Turton, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

The rags sizzled, the smell of charcoal singeing his nostrils.

Writhing in agony, the leper clawed at the dirt. His forearms were terribly burnt, his face charred. Only his eyes were still human—the pupils wild, thrashing against the surrounding blue, driven mad with pain.

A scream wedged his mouth open, but no sound passed his throat.

"That's impossible," muttered Arent.

He glanced at Sammy, who was straining against his chains, trying to see better. "His tongue's been cut out," Arent hollered, struggling to be heard over the din of the crowd.

"Stand aside, I'm a healer" came an imperious voice.

A noblewoman pushed past Arent, removing a lace cap and shoving it into his hands, revealing the jeweled pins glittering among her tight red curls.

No sooner was the cap in Arent's possession than it was snatched away again by a fussing maid, who was trying to keep a parasol over her mistress's head while urging her to return to the palanquin.

Arent glanced back toward it.

In her haste, the noblewoman had yanked the curtain off its hook and spilled two large silk pillows onto the ground. Inside, a young girl with an oval face was watching them through the torn material. She was dark haired and dark eyed, a mirror of the governor general, who sat stiff on his horse, examining his wife disapprovingly.

"Mama?" called out the girl.

"A moment, Lia," replied the noblewoman, who was kneeling beside the

leper, oblivious to her brown gown piled up in fish guts. "I'm going to try to help you," she told him kindly. "Dorothea?"

"My lady," responded the maid.

"My vial, if you please."

The maid fumbled up her sleeve and removed a small vial, which she uncorked and handed to the noblewoman.

"This will ease your pain," she said to the suffering man, upending it above his parted lips.

"Those are lepers' rags," warned Arent as her puffed sleeves drifted perilously close to her patient.

"I'm aware," she said curtly, watching a thick drop of liquid gathering on the rim of the vial. "You're Lieutenant Hayes, are you not?"

"Arent will do."

"Arent." She rolled the name around her mouth as if it possessed an odd flavor. "I'm Sara Wessel." She paused. "Sara will do," she added, mimicking his gruff response.

She gave the vial a slight shake, dislodging the drop into the leper's mouth. He swallowed it painfully, then shuddered and calmed, the writhing ceasing as his eyes lost focus.

"You're the governor general's wife?" asked Arent disbelievingly. Most nobles wouldn't leave a palanquin that was on fire, let alone leap out of one to aid a stranger.

"And you're Samuel Pipps's servant," she snapped back.

"I—" he faltered, wrong-footed by her annoyance. Unsure of how he had offended her, he changed the topic. "What did you give him?"

"Something to ease the pain," she said, wedging the cork back into the vial. "It's made from local plants. I use it myself from time to time. It helps me sleep."

"Can we do anything for him, my lady?" asked the maid, taking the vial from her mistress and putting it back up her sleeve. "Should I fetch your healing sundries?"

Only a fool would try, thought Arent. A life at war had taught him which limbs you could live without and which nicks would wake you in agony every night until they killed you quietly a year after the battle. The leper's rotting flesh was bad enough, but there'd be no peace from those burns. With constant ministrations, he could live a day or a week, but survival wasn't always worth the price paid for it.

"No, thank you, Dorothea," said Sara. "I don't think that will be necessary."

Rising to her feet, Sara gestured for Arent to follow her out of earshot. "There's nothing to be done here," she said quietly. "Nothing left except mercy. Could you…" She swallowed, seemingly ashamed of the next question. "Have you ever taken a life?"

Excerpted from The Devil and the Dark Water by Stuart Turton . Copyright © 2020 by Stuart Turton . Excerpted by permission of Sourcebooks Landmark. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.