Page 39 of A Reign of Roses
“You can do this, little witch,” Briar soothed. I didn’t think I’d ever heard her talk to anyone with such warmth. “Do this for your friend. It’s what she would have wanted. Honor her, with your power.”
“Ican’t,” Mari cried. “It’s too—”
A rumble of thunder struck outside, though the night sky sparkled, dark and clear.
And though tears had begun to fall steadily down Mari’s cheeks, and my stomach twisted with the awareness that I was witnessing something too personal, or that I’d brought this sorrow upon Mari myself—
Pages rustled across the room.
Clearly bolstered by the progress, Mari whispered the incantation more fervently. Those tears, falling freely now, as she chanted. Like an oath. Like a prayer—
All the books in the compact library—cracked and old, pulpy and new—fluttering, whirring, spinning around us.
Mari’s eyes snapped open and then shone. A little awe, a little pride, a little fear…
Briar gave her a nod of encouragement and the air, crackling with texture as they chanted, wrinkled around us.
The space between the two of them bent and retreated, yawning outward and splitting in half, edges rippling in translucent light.
Mari swallowed a gasp. Books tumbled to the floor.
My own heart raced at the sight. I’d never grow accustomed to time carving itself open in this way.
Briar’s eyes pierced mine. The inky-black portal undulated between us, warped matter reflected in its rift. “Go, Kane. Go and finish what we started.”
10
Arwen
“How could you?” The wordsdodged past all my shame and pride to hurtle from my lips. “Andwhy?”
To her credit, Amelia didn’t flinch or shift on her feet. She didn’t gaze back to the glimmering reflecting pool. She didn’t reach for me. “My entire kingdom, all those lives…To me, they were worth one Fae. Even someone I liked. I’m sorry, Arwen. It wasn’t a decision I made lightly.”
Loneliness had swamped me so thoroughly the last two months. Stifling loneliness that poured out though shameful midnight tears, and yet it had never felt more crushing than in this very moment, standing in front of someone I thought I knew. I had no words for her.
“As you can imagine,” she continued, “I haven’t spoken to Kane since.”
“He’ll kill you.”
“I’m sure.” Her eyes finally cast downward. With remorse or fear I couldn’t tell. “But he won’t wage war on Peridot’s people for my mistakes. And that’s all I care about.”
“So Kane still thinks…”
“You’re dead? Yeah. I’m sure they all do—I did.”
“And you’re here in Lumera only as Lazarus’s ally.” Not a plot, then. She was simply a guest of honor at a Fae masquerade.
“My deal with Lazarus was that my land would remain neutral. My armies won’t fight in the war for either side. And if he wins, and takes all of Evendell, he won’t decimate us.”
“After everything he’s done, what could make you think he’ll uphold his end of the bargain now that he has me? Had he killed me, as you thought he did, he would have been unstoppable.”
“Peridot is worth more to him preserved. Our fresh water and produce and livestock…He’ll need all of it when he inevitably turns Evendell into this.” She gestured to the ashy, sickly sweet air. The clipped dry hedges and trees bare of leaves.
“Amelia, you have to help me get free of this place,” I tried. “They drain me of my lighte every few days. I think Lazarus might need it for some reason. Could he be weak or ill?”
“I doubt it. But…” She angled her head in thought. “The Fae assassins that can shift into those horrible creatures, Lazarus’s mercenaries…They’re his most valuable asset, and a dying breed. I wonder if he’s pumping his best soldiers full of your lighte to create more.”
I shook my head, my mask rattling. “You know I can’t shift.”
