Page 109 of When Wishes Bleed

She snapped out of the daze she’d been in, panting until she could speak. “Fire. It… someone set the gull on fire,” she choked out as the scent of singed hair flooded the carriage.

If fire still existed, then Ethne still drew breath. I hoped I was right.

Brecan sat down on the other side of Mira and the three of us discussed what to do. We had no idea how Cyril was holding the witches or how to break the spell she’d cast, but if we didn’t figure it out soon, more witches would die.

But we couldn’t waltz back into The Gallows without knowing what we were up against, either.

24

We led Mira to her room. Part of her crumbled when Bay passed, and I wasn’t sure how to help ease her pain, other than to ensure Cyril hurt no one else.

After checking my room for any unusual mail and deeming it safe, Brecan promised to find me after he changed clothes. All three of us were salty, sandy, and still damp.

I heard his door close across the hall.

As soon as his door clicked, the scent of smoke immediately filled my nose. I followed it out of my room, down the hallway and outside. After a thorough examination, I was relieved to find the palace wasn’t on fire, although I alerted the guards to make sure all the rooms were cleared. Word quickly spread, but the smoky scent’s origin couldn’t be traced.

I found myself standing in the Night Garden. In the distance, Brecan called my name. Before I could answer him, the Son of Night’s billowing smoke appeared beside me. I raised my palms, ready to defend myself, and Arron’s slitted eyes narrowed on mine.

“I take it you know about the Priest and Priestesses.”

“Are you my mother’s pawn?” I asked pointedly.

“I’m no one’s pawn.”

I narrowed my eyes at his answer. “Are you bound to her?”

“No,” he asserted. Arron sat on the swing, backing up a few feet and then soaring forward as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “But she believes I am.”

“Why does she think that?”

He blinked slowly, tilting his head to the side as if to size me up. “Because I didn’t correct her. I never, however, pledged myself to her. I’m always careful to avoid such unfortunate entanglements.”

Enough semantics. “Why did you write to me? What did you want to discuss?”

“She wanted me to bring another message. She wants to meet with you, and she also wanted to warn you never to trust Fate. She did, and ended up being bound because of it. She says that you can trust her, though. She is your mother and wants you to come home.”

Did Fate help the Priestesses and Priest bind my mother in the soil? Had he somehow weakened her from within? Or was she bound after she cast him out of her – or so she claimed?

“And if I can’t return home?”

“Can’t, or won’t?” he asked curiously, abruptly stopping the swing and standing up, still clinging to the ropes.

“Take your pick.”

He stepped toward me, flicked his midnight-blue hair out of his face, and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You must defy Fate or defy your mother. Either way, you will face consequences. The choice is yours.”

“How is she holding the witches in the Center?”

“An ancient spell. One that can be broken only by another Fate witch…” he offered. Which is why my mother wants me to visit so badly, I surmised. She wants to bind me so I can’t break the spell.

“Are you saying I can break it?”

“Easily.” He looked into my eyes, unblinking. If he was lying, I couldn’t tell. “With a brush of your hand, the spell would be extinguished.”

“Can I kill her?” I boldly asked.

Arron pursed his lips. “I’m not entirely sure you could, unless you used dark magic. That’s how she killed Bay, Ethne, and Wayra. But, if you choose not to go down that path, you may be able to bind her with your power.”

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