The room swayed. The walls receded.
No.
A scream lodged behind my teeth.
NO!
A wail clawed from my throat, raw and blistered.
Mav was dead.
Edric had killed him.
The world swam in and out of focus. Memories flared behind my eyes—Mav’s laugh, his hands warm on my waist, the way he’d whispered my name like a vow. A thousand soft, ordinary moments that should have been our forever would now never be.
It was my fault. If I had declined Edric’s proposal to begin with, if I had not fallen asleep in Mav’s arms, he would be alive.
I clutched the lock of Mav’s hair to my chest, above the hollow where the tether had once connected his soul to mine. My body convulsed around the emptiness. I wanted to tear my skin open, to dig until I found him again, tofix this—but there was no fixing the permanence of death. I collapsed to the floor. It was not low enough. I wanted the earth to open and bury me with him.
Blindly, I crawled to the chaise. I curled onto it, scraping at the fabric as if I could hold onto the shape of him. His scent lingered, and the final thread snapped within me. I lost myself entirely. Sobs shredded my throat and echoed off the walls. My body shook as I wept.
Sunlight crept across my cheek as the morning moved on without me, calloused and indifferent.
“Please,” I rasped, voice unrecognizable, raw from weeping. “Please, let him be at peace.”
I lay in the ruins of what we had been, holding the last piece of him. There was no strength left for vengeance. Only this prayer, and the broken pieces of a future that would never be.
40
MAV
Istartled awake as the cell door scraped open. The stone beneath me had warmed from body heat overnight, but couldn’t stave off the stiffness in my bones.
A guard trudged in and set four bowls on the ground—full of something beige and steaming.
“Ugh.” Vesper took a cautious sniff. “Can we go straight to requesting poison next time?”
“Eat,” Thistle encouraged. “We’ll need our strength today.”
Branrir grimaced as he swallowed another spoonful. “They’re changing shifts every six hours.”
“The guards?” I asked, choking down the gooey porridge.
“First was at midnight, before you arrived. The second was this morning at six. If the pattern holds, then we can expect the guards to change at noon and at six in the evening.”
Vesper sat up straighter. “We’ll have a smaller chance of dying if we wait until the evening.”
“And the ceremony is set to take place at sunset,” Thistle added.
A beat passed between us.
“What can we use to get out of here?” Branrir asked.
“I can Hum,” I said. “Lull them. Convince them to open the door. But the magic is far stronger when channeled through an instrument.”
Thistle leaned forward. “I can use the moss. There’s enough in the corners and between the stones for Hedge. Maybe enough to snare a guard or gag them before they call for help.”
“I can scratch out their eyes,” Vesper added, grinning with a dark sense of satisfaction.
