Page 18 of Winds of Ruin
In all the years of speaking with her through a thin pane of glass, I’d never been able to figure out why Elsedora deemed herself so unlovable. Even bloodied and bruised, she radiated beauty. Her guarded heart beat for those she cared about, ever loyal, ever devoted to her cause.
“I assume you won’t be taking a break before going off to find the last one?” I asked her.
With a roll of her eyes, she said, “Of course not. You know me better than that. We don’t have time for rest—not until we have all the relics and a way to wake you.”
If the Sethe curse wasn’t lifted in thirteen years, I’d eternally sleep. Minutes ticked by; years did not feel as long as they once had.
I should have agreed to a longer duration. Though, back then, I’d imagined Mama and Papa aging and dying without ever getting to say goodbye. Now, I reveled in El’s daily stories of her adventures even if they left my arm hair standing and my heart pounding.
Caym grew stronger by the day. If I fell to him, I doubted the Sethe curse could contain him. In my bones, I knew we did not have the years we’d set.
The Death Origin and I were delicately bound. One body, two minds. What happened when mine failed? When I could no longer claw myself away? When I couldn’t speak to El anymore? I feared who he might harm.
“When is the next black moon again?” I asked.
“Asterie has mapped it—should land just before the curse becomes permanent. We’ve got time yet.”
With Isolde’s Reverist power restored and my body his, Caym would be unstoppable.
“I’m going to find everything we need. Don’t worry.” Her voice had turned more serious now—a promise.
Chapter 7
Larkspur
“To many more birthdays,” Aunt El leaned over to say with a smile.
I blew out thirteen candles, and the smoke rose to the cerulean ceiling of the dining hall.
My mama wrapped her arms around my shoulders, over the chair back behind me. “Happy birthday, love.”
Pale-pink silk hung from the silver chandeliers and cascaded down onto the white birch table.
Mama squeezed tighter, and I groaned. The table erupted into cheerful conversation again among my loved ones.
“Mama, you’ll suffocate me,” I laughed out.
She scoffed. “I’ve earned the right.” She released me to return to her seat.
All my aunts were here—Lora, or El as I’d started calling her recently since everyone else did. Then Asterie, Amara, Cassidee, and Wyeth. Uncle Fen was teaching my cousin Hurley how to uncork a wine bottle with a simple charm.
Easy.
I could do that in my sleep. I could make a healing potion or invisibility tonic with ease, cast all the simple charms, and unlock almost any door.
The sight made me sad… or angry with Hurley.
He used to play marbles and climb trees in Aunt El’s orchard with me. Now he effortlessly assimilated into adult conversation.
Mama looked disappointed that none of the children from school had shown—even though it had been no surprise.
They could not ward their thoughts yet, and they were often not very nice. They feared my Reverist abilities would expose their cruelty.
I wished Dritan could be at the table. He would brighten my spirits, and I’d have someone closer tomyage to speak with.
But it wasn’t wise to invite him. I’d agreed to hold my dear friend’s secrets close to my heart.
I dreamed that someday he would accept his fate. We would rule together and create a more peaceful realm.
