It's a monkshood tincture. It will kill you in fifteen minutes if you drink it, but until then, the symptoms of the poisoning should at least lessen some of the pain of the fire.

[ He hesitates, pauses, then adds simply: ] I would prefer to shoot you, if I could. But that makes waking up more difficult. From what we have been told, I am not sure at how well it would go with only that.

[ It sounds bizarre, and yet before Ciel can think about how this doesn't make sense, this thoughts drift away too quickly for him to latch onto them. This makes sense. Of course it makes sense. ]

The monkshood is all I can do, I am afraid.