Page 68 of Burning Crowns

But Wren’s breath was shallowing in her chest. She could feel the healer prodding at the darkness inside her. Angering it. Black spots swam in the sides of her vision. The pain was taking over. She started to sway.

‘Wren,’ said Alarik. ‘Stay.’

Suddenly, Willa snapped her hands away. ‘A blood spell,’ she said, with such horror she took a step back. ‘And not any blood spell. One to raise the dead. What on earth possessed you?’

Wren glared at Alarik.

‘Is that relevant?’ he said, hotly. ‘It’s done now.’

‘But its shadow remains,’ said Willa. ‘It’s gnawing at your souls.’

Alarik frowned. ‘That’s the first I’ve heard of having one.’

‘This is no trifling matter,’ said Willa. She looked to Wren, who was still swaying on her feet. Willa’s face changed from anger to concern. ‘Sit. Sip. And tell me of the spell.’

Wren and Alarik sat down, reaching for a cup of tea. Wren sipped, detecting the faint scent of lavender. She felt herself relax. Beside her, Alarik gulped his tea as if he were dying of thirst.

Perhaps he was in more pain than Wren thought.

As they sat and drank their tea, Wren told Willa all about their ill-conceived blood spell. Every time she caught the healer’s admonishing glare, she felt like an unruly child who had been found stealing apples from the orchard. Perhaps this was why Wren left out the part about accidentally awakening Oonagh Starcrest in the mountains, and only told her about raising Ansel from the dead, which had, of course, turned out to be a colossal disaster.

‘Soyoucast a blood spell withhisblood,’ said Willa, once Wren had finished. She sat back in her chair as if she was exhausted from the mere listening to the tale. ‘That explains the link between you.’

‘Have you ever heard of something like this happening before?’ said Wren.

The healer shook her head. ‘The witches of Eana have long known what happens when you tamper with blood sacrifice. Therein only evil lies.’

‘Right. Of course.’

‘And to evenattemptsuch a dangerous spell with a mortal.’ Willa shook her head. ‘AGevran. It is unheard of.’

‘What will it do?’ said Alarik, who could no longer hide his anxiety. ‘This thing inside us.’

The healer was silent a moment. ‘I expect it will kill you.’

Wren went rigid in her seat. Hearing the words spoken so plainly and true sent a fissure of alarm through her. ‘But surely you can help us,’ she said. ‘You can heal us, can’t you?’

The Healer on High sighed. ‘Whatever this is, it is beyond even my capabilities.’

‘No,’ said Alarik, leaping from the chair. ‘There must besomethingyou can do.’ He began to pace. ‘If your mountains can sing and your witches can make waterfalls with their tears, then you can heal this sickness inside us. You’re a witch. Ahealer. The best one in Eana by all accounts. This is what you do. So,doit,’ he growled.

Willa cocked her head. ‘Are you finished?’

‘That depends. Do you finally have something useful to offer?’ he bit back.

‘Alarik!’ snapped Wren. ‘This isn’t helping!’

Willa drummed her fingers against her teacup, waiting for the king to stop pacing and settle down. Wren tugged his sleeve,urging him to sit on the armrest of her chair. She held her hand on his wrist to keep him there.

Willa went on. ‘These mountains are the oldest in all of Eana. They possess a magic that far outweighs my own. It is this magic that you both need.’

‘So, there is a way to healing?’ said Wren, hopefully.

‘There may yet be …’ Willa leaned forward, steepling her hands in front of her lips. ‘You must journey deep under the mountain to the healing baths. To soak in the waters of the mountains is to bathe in the purest and oldest magic in the land. They are, as you say, Eana’s tears.’ She shot a pointed look at Alarik. ‘If you are fortunate, the water will dissolve the darkness inside you and unknit the curse you have placed upon yourselves.’

‘Good. All right,’ said Alarik, perking up once more. ‘For how long?’

‘Until the water runs black.’

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