Page 108 of Heart of the Summer Queen

“Foolish girl,” she sneers. “Eruweth’s curse is lifting because the spell was tied to her life. Such an incantation is appropriate for enchanting a place, not a person.”

“Then—”

Belinda’s grin sharpens. “Killing a witch only breaks the curses linked to her life. Your kingling’s curse was never tied to Isidore, but to you.”

Her words land like a crushing blow.

We should have returned to the Crystal Palace. We shouldn’t have faced Isidore. Maybe the curse would never have lifted, but at least we’d be together.

Now he’s dying, and there’s nothing I can do to save him.

“You tricked us!” I snarl, fury bursting from my grief. “You lied that her death would free him!”

“I never lied,” Belinda retorts, eyes glinting. “I did not state slaying her would break his curse. You merely assumed such a thing.”

Fury, so much fury, pounds through me—at Belinda, at myself. Without thinking, I lunge for her. Weaponless, magicless, driven only by blind rage and pain.

I make it only two steps before magic erupts around the witch. Cries sound from the townspeople, but Belinda ignores them.

She raises the Sword of Veliantis higher, a ribbon of blue spilling from its rubies. She inhales deeply, eyes alight with ravenous hunger. The stream rushes into her nostrils, disappearing entirely.

The cloud surrounding her flares blue—the same shade as Elaric and Isidore’s magic.

Frost spirals across the cobblestones, eliciting renewed panic from the crowd.

Belinda throws back her head with a screeching caw. She flicks her wrist, and a barrage of ice crashes into a fallen stall. The wood explodes into useless splinters.

“You used us,” I hiss. “Used us for your own gain.”

“You seemed more than happy to be used at the time,” Belinda retorts. She raises her hand, letting green magic bloom. “Wood.” She snaps her fingers, and the magic turns red. “Fire.” Then it becomes blue. “And now ice, thanks to you.”

Rage reignites, and I lunge, determined to exact my wrath. She manipulated us as puppets for her own ends.

Yet she raises her hands and conjures a wall of fire. I leap back to avoid being incinerated.

Screams sound as a man nearby is engulfed.

Through the writhing flames, Belinda grins. “Until next time, my dear.”

I scream after her retreating form. But there’s nothing I can do to quench her flames.

The tree from which she emerged reopens in a vortex of magic, and I watch in horror as Elaric’s final chance vanishes.

My stomach turns to lead.

With Belinda now gone, her fire soon burns out, leaving swirling ash in its place. The creeping frost also melts away, erasing all evidence of her presence.

I race back to Elaric and pull him into my arms, gripping his face in shaking hands. “Elaric,” I rasp, but no response comes.

I hold my hand under his nose, feeling just the slightest wisp of breath.

“We’ll go home together,” I gasp out. “Just hold on!” Even as I makesuch promises, I know he hangs by only a thin thread of life. I must find a healer.

His fingers twitch, seeking mine. The strength behind his grip is frighteningly feeble, but the small gesture kindles a fragile spark of hope.

“Adara,” he murmurs.

“I’m here,” I whisper. “I’m here.”

---