Ariel sat with her back to me by the window, long white hair spilling over her shoulders in a river of spun silver. She wore a matching, threadbare gown, her eyes—the exact same pale blue as mine—fixed on that stormy horizon.
Staring straight north, toward Frostveil.
Shock spread through me, chilling me to the core.
Ari was skeletally thin, nothing but bones, really, her skin so pale I wondered if she’d ever seen the sun, if she ever ate. Her cheeks—still filled with baby fat, the last time I’d seen her—were hollow and gaunt, dark circles under her eyes.She was a ghost.
But still ethereally beautiful, despite everything.
Still my sister.
“Ariel,” I whispered, stepping inside the cold room, smelling faintly of woodsmoke and damp. She turned slowly; her blank expression serene and terrifying. There was no flash of recognition in that ice-blue gaze, no spark of the fiery, laughing sister I’d once known.
No sign she even realized Ishouldn’tbe here.
This was a shell of a person, a hollowed-out husk, and horror rippled through me. Of all the things I’d prepared myself to face today…this was not it.
“Ari, it’s me,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Lyrae.”
She blinked at me, tilting her head as though trying to place a memory. “I don’t know you,” and that was real confusion on her face. “Are you new? Have you brought food?”
I couldn’t catch my breath, couldn’t stop my chest from aching, couldn’t…fucking think.
She might be bewitched, Rooke had suggested, when we were planning tonight’s incursion.Gravelock could have found some way to bind her to him, since she’s so valuable. He would have used his blood magic, which will be difficult to break.
I’d dismissed his words, the second they’d come out of his mouth.
Nobodycontrolled my sister.
Ariel was, and always had been, a fucking force of nature.
Behind the horror, a wall of guilt slammed into me.I’ddone this. I’d given up, left her here, when I should have searched to the ends of the earth, chased down every rumor and clue to try to find out what happened to her.
Instead, I’d taken the word of a known liar, and settled for my pathetic life.
But now was not the time for recriminations.
I knelt in front of her on the freezing floor, tugging her tattered dress down over her knees. She didn’t even have shoes. “Ariel, it’s me, your sister. Lyrae. I’ve come to take you home, where you’ll be safe.”
Her hand twitched as though she wanted to reach for me, then her expression hardened, and she turned back to the window, looking due north, her palm pressed to the fogged window. “I am home.”
I blew out a shaking breath, reached into my pocket for the other vial, the one I didn’t think I’d need, and popped off the lid. An irresistible, sugary aroma perfumed the air with sweetness.
“You’re right, Ariel. I am new, and I did bring you something special. You look thirsty.” I held the vial of bright pink liquid under her nose. “Would you like something to drink?”
She hesitated, then slowly reached for it like she was caught in a daze, thin fingers wrapping around the glowing pink before tipping the vial to her lips. The potion must have tasted good because she drank greedily, down to the last drop, before Ariel turned to me, head tilting in confusion before glass shattered at my feet and her eyes slipped closed.
I caught my sister before she hit the floor, tossed her emaciated body over my shoulder and was through the door in seconds, knowing I’d taken far too long, far longer than my allotted thirty minutes, and I picked up the pace,catching glimpses of the circling crows, the oncoming storm, smoke still rising from the fire.
If I was late…
No, Ryland would never leave without me and Ariel.
Hewouldn’t dare.
Still, I sped up, that storm getting closer. Ten minutes later I hit the bottom of the steps, heart about to burst, calves burning from exertion, my unconscious sister draped over my shoulder as I rushed toward Varian, blood dripping from the tip of his blade, eyes bugging out when he saw Ariel.
The hall was strewn with bodies, a haze of spent magic clogging the air, and one of the tapestries was ablaze, flames licking up from the bottom, consuming the faded fabric, some sort of fire magic still streaming from a dead guard’s hand.
