Page 120 of A Promise of Peridot
“Is there anything else you can tell us about the blade? About where it is in Onyx? About our battle with Lazarus?”
“You must defeat him. You are the only hope either realm has.”
“Yes.” I gritted my teeth. “That I know.”
I waited for Arwen’s reprimand of my tone, but it never came. She was looking off toward the lake, and I knew then.
I knew that I had lost her.
It might’ve been the clamor of my chest caving in on itself that rang in my ears. “Beth, what is your father’s name? What does he look like? We’ll do our best to bring him back to you.”
For the first time the girl’s eyes lit up as she said, “Vaughn. He has dark brown hair that reaches his shoulders, and a beard. I haven’t had a vision of him since they took him weeks ago. If I do, should I write a letter to you?”
“Yes, address it to Lieutenant Eardley at Shadowhold. Thank you for all your help.”
She turned to leave and made it halfway up the slick road before spinning back to us, horror clouding her youthful eyes.
A chill rippled through me.
“What is it?” Arwen managed to say.
“You’ll... you’ll have to make the deal. When the time comes, you’ll have to.”
“What deal?” I asked.
Beth stiffened. “I don’t know. I only get pieces...”
All I could think to say was “Please.”
“Her face will be wet with tears,” Beth said, motioning to Arwen. “And your hands... they will be coated in blood.”
The storm had moved in, and though the buildings beside us offered some cover, rain had begun to drench us both. Before I could say more, Beth ran back up the hill to her mother’s store, and we watched until her silhouette disappeared into the mist.
35
arwen
Rain had started at some point I couldn’t recall, and my nose and eyelashes were now misted with cool, wet drops. I fell to my knees against uneven cobblestone.
“Arwen.” Kane’s voice was rough.
The deluge blurred my vision.
That and the guilt. More guilt than I knew what to do with. And shock at Beth’s words.
Pure shock.
My hands gripped the cool rock beneath me to steady myself, and my nails scraped against wet, unmoving stone. I wasn’t sure what I was clawing at.
“Arwen,” Kane said again, crouching down on one knee, the puddled rainwater leeching into his nice pants. I could feel him beside me. His warmth radiating toward my body. Could see the white of his shirt billowing in the static wind.
But he wasn’t touching me.
I had murdered—murdered—hundreds of Fae soldiers, Mariwas in some kind of magic-induced coma because I hadn’t listened to her, Fedrik had nearly lost his leg trying to save me, and now—
I had poisoned my ownmother. For twenty years, I had made her sick. Brought her to the brink of death. I had practically killed her—
Or, had I caused that, too? She never would have been in Peridot in the first place had I not asked Kane to bring her to me.
