I can’t form a response. I can’t feel anything around the knowledge in my head, how much I hate it, and how much I hate Hannah now too. I want to collapse on the road and wipe the worddiefrom my memory, because that’s all I can see now. Hannah intended for me to die to save Winter; the only way I can save everyone in Primoria is to die.
If Hannah had never asked her conduit the wrong question, if she had never let Angra break the locket and kill her and turnmeinto Winter’s conduit, I could do it. I could save everyone and myself, and nothing would hurt as badly as my chest hurts now.
I fall against the wall next to me, the rough stone tugging at my sleeve as I cover my face with my hands. I want to live. I want to find a way to save everyone and LIVE. Isit so horrible that I want to save myself too? Is that such an awful request?
Lekan pulls my hands down. His eyes are soft, his brows drawn, and he tips his head to mask his words even more. “The caravan sits just around the corner. I realize this isn’t your fight, Winter queen, but I need your help.”
The caravan. Ceridwen. I’m supposed to help her. She has the tapestry—the Order is still out there. Maybe they have a way; maybe they know something that could help me.
Maybe, maybe,maybe. That’s all I’ve been lately, one big swirl of possibilities, never anything definitive or sure. I won’t waste time on maybes anymore. I’m done, I’mdone.
The only definitive thing I know right now is that Ceridwen needs me, and that’s all I can see. Not the new weight of the answer driving nails into my skull. Not the magic, trapped and confused and wanting to burst free now that I surrendered to it and asked a question and got my answer. But no, I am not surrendering to it anymore. I may have for a brief flash of a second, but I will not give in. I will not accept this.
Tears glaze my eyes. “All right,” I tell Lekan.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
Meira
LEKAN BOWS HIShead in thanks and starts to say something else when a flash of movement makes me spin. Conall whips a dagger into his good hand as Ceridwen comes racing up the street behind us, her face alive with toxic anger.
“What are you doing here?” she barks, but I can’t help but feel that her anger isn’t directed at us. It’s just a part of her, hungry and wild.
Lekan steps forward. “We came to stop you from doing anything stupid.”
I draw a shaky breath.Focus, focus. Don’t think about anything else. I am a soldier; Sir trained me to keep my emotions in check. I can do this.
I don’t want to die. . . .
“Lekan said you were missing,” I start, my hands in fists that grow tighter to counter the tremble in my voice. “I figured you were off doing something reckless—like stoppingyour brother from collecting more slaves.”
Ceridwen’s lip twitches and she flicks her eyes from Lekan to me. “I’m not stoppingacollection,” she says. “I’m stoppingthecollections.”
Lekan realizes what she means before I do. He glances toward the road beyond our alley and cuts a snarl to her when he sees the way still clear. “You can’t take him, Cerie.”
“I definitely couldn’t take him in Summer, but he only has a fraction of his men here. It’s now, or I lose the opportunity. You know better than I do that this has to end.”
Lekan runs a hand through his hair, the red strands bouncing wild around his fingers.
“How will this stop the collections?” But as soon as I ask it, I know the answer.
She’s going to kill her brother.
“Ceridwen.” I gasp her name like someone landed a blow to my gut.
She glares at me. “Don’t. Don’t you dare judge me. He’s the last living male heir of Summer—if he dies, we’ll be free of magic. Summer will get a chance to be more than fogged with bliss, and if someday I have a son, I’ll make sure he’s a far, far better king than my brother. You have no idea what it’s been like, what he’s doing now, and I can’t—”
“Why now?” Lekan asks so I don’t have to, his tone dark. “If this is about Jesse—”
“This has nothing to do with him!” Ceridwen’s voicethreatens a scream, but she catches herself, warping it into a sharp whisper. “Simon . . . he . . . you’ve seen it, Lekan.” She squints at him. “Didn’t you see it?”
Lekan shakes his head.
“With the non-Summerian slaves,” she starts. “He can control them, like he controls his own subjects. I don’t know how, but he cannot be allowed to continue this, especially if his influence is stretching into more kingdoms. It’s too much.”
