Page 83 of The Arrow and the Alder

Alder’s hand curled into a fist upon her back. “Can’t it wait?” he snapped.

Seph breathed, distractedly aware of the silent standoff happening between the prince of Weald and the collector.

“I saw light,” Seph whispered, swallowing hard. “It was…as ifIwas light, and then there was fire.” Seph swallowed. “I tried to take off the coat, but…” Her voice trailed off as the Weald Prince tucked his other hand behind his back.

Or tried to.

Seph grabbed his hand and turned it over. His palm bubbled with angry red blisters, and she gazed up at him, bewildered.

Why?she silently asked.

His eyes held hers then hardened on Basrain. “I believe that’s enough for today. Josephine should get some fresh air, and I need to speak with Evora,” he said. No one argued.

“Would you join me for a walk?” Abecka asked once she and Seph reached the base of the winding stairs.

Alder had gone on ahead of them, but his pace had been hurried, and Seph did not see him anywhere now.

“Of course,” Seph replied. Truthfully, she’d hoped for seclusion so that she could think. She’d been with Abecka’s entourage nearly every moment since leaving Velentis, and Seph yearned for solitude now. That said, she hadn’t really spoken with her great-grandmother since Abecka had asked Seph to stay. There was also the fact that Alder was right: Seph needed fresh air, but she didn’t know her way around this sprawling compound.

Abecka gave Seph a small smile and led her through the palatial halls as cool air breezed through the open colonnades. It was quite peaceful, really, this encapsulated paradise, and only a few gray-robed archivists passed them as they walked.

“How are you feeling?” Abecka asked quietly.

“All right, I think,” Seph replied, and shewasall right, except there was still this hollow just beneath her breastbone where the fire had been. She rubbed it instinctively and flinched. Rys’s ring still hung about her neck, and the skin beneath it was very tender. Not even the enchantments in the ring had been enough to protect her from the power in that coat.

Abecka stopped in the hall—Seph did too—and pressed her palm to Seph’s chest, just over the place where the fire had lodged. Abecka’s lips twitched downward as she searched Seph.

“You…feel it,” Seph said.

Abecka dropped her hand. “You are connected to the power in that coat, somehow.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” Abecka’s gaze moved over Seph’s face, and then she looked ahead. “Alder was right. I shouldn’t have put you in that position, and I am sorry for that.”

Seph felt a prick of guilt. “You didn’t put that coat over my shoulders.” Seph had done that all on her own.

“But I should have…” Abecka ceased talking, smiled tightly, and continued walking.

Seph followed. She was about to inquire further when Abecka pushed through a pair of gorgeously engraved wooden doors and into the courtyard she’d spied from the window of her bedchamber.

It was like stepping into spring. It was so much warmer than those drafty halls of marble, and little lights floated about them like stars. The air smelled sweetly of flowers, and Seph understood why mortals might have bargained for a vial of Weald’s air.

It was intoxicating.

And it smelled a little bit like Alder.

Abecka ushered her over to a small bench nestled just beneath the sweeping branches of the willow, and they both sat. Abecka stared ahead, quiet. Her hands were clasped within her lap when she asked, “Tell me about my son.”

It wasn’t the subject Seph expected, but she folded her own hands together and stared out at the glittering pool. “What more do you want to know?”

“Everything.” Abecka’s tone broke in half.

And so Seph told her everything she knew, starting at the first memory she had of him. Abecka sat quietly, staring at the pool as Seph spoke. She asked a few questions here and there, but for the most part, she seemed content to simply listen, absorbing every word. Afterward, Abecka was quiet for a very long time, her eyes glistening like the pool before them, her knuckles blanched from clenching.

“I missed him,” Abecka said at last. “Every day of my life, my heart ached for my son, but…knowing that his life was so rich, that he was so happy…” Abecka smiled at Seph, albeit sadly. “There is nothing more I could have wanted for him.”

Seph glanced down.

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