Elyse turned her attention to her old friend. Sera looked different—and not merely because she wore trousers and a tunic in place of her usual dresses. Circles lined her eyes, and her shoulders slumped. Long gone was the beauty that had once crushed the hearts of so many men in Sevhella.
“Are you ready?” Killian asked. He kept his distance from her, eyeing Elyse as though she might take a bite out of him.
Elyse popped the last piece of her roll into her mouth. She didn’t bother swallowing it before she said, “Tell the farmers to plant as many seeds as they can—today.”
9
Killian
Killian marched down the road, charging ahead as the leader of their group. Each thud of his boots against the hard dirt was the rhythm of a battle drum. The cadence both soothed him and fueled his desperation.
Elyse was gone, replaced by a callous murderer with no room for him in her heart.
Everything had assaulted him at once. He’d kept it together as best he could while they’d bantered and bartered in his room. But as soon as she’d left, as soon as she’d walked away from him without a second thought, he’d crumbled.
She didn’t love him anymore. She didn’t feel anything toward him. He was simply a tool for her to utilize. Her scowl had been wholly that—a scowl, with no hint of playfulness beneath. She’d spoken only of revenge, and every word, every syllable, had been a tiny stab in his heart.
His lungs had constricted, as if she’d taken all the air with her when she strode out of his room. He’d doubled over, knees biting into the wooden floor as he struggled to breathe—struggled to function. For weeks he’d begged the gods to send her back to him, had waited and prayed and hoped that he’d see her again. He’d believed with everything in him that, soul or not, their feelings for each other would prevail. That she would take one look at him and know that they were meant for each other. And now, he wished he’d never seen her. The yearning and the wondering had been miserable, but not as painstakingly heart-wrenching as the utter indifference she’d shown him.
That was where Manny had found him, kneeling on the floor, hands wrapped around his middle, as if he might hold in the pieces of his heart that were breaking apart. His friend had crouched beside him, a wary hand on his shoulder, and waited until the aching in Killian’s chest simmered to something manageable. Until Killian could finally put words to what had happened.
Manny and Sera had both been shocked to hear that Elyse was joining them, though Manny’s surprise was underscored by prudence while Sera’s was more eager. It had hurt to watch that eagerness fade to disappointment as Elyse rebuffed the seer. Sera’s dismay mirrored his own, her face falling as she realized that Elyse truly harbored no fondness for them. Watching her pain unfold, Killian’s heart had risen to his throat, preventing any words of comfort from escaping his lips. What was there to say anyway, when he couldn’t contain his own sorrow?
In silence, they’d transported to a city in Evaria that Sera had passed through before. Then they’d begun their hike toVincennes. The past hour had been tense, made worse by the sweltering heat, a heat that conquered even the shade provided by the evergreens along the road. Killian’s tunic was plastered to his skin with sweat, but he kept trudging onward. He couldn’t bring himself to stop or slow or even look back at his companions. If he saw Elyse’s face, the emptiness of her dark eyes, he might very well tread into the forest and never come out.
Their destination was Callentor Manor, the estate that had apparently been attacked by some sort of murderous ivy. After walking for nearly an hour, Killian was eager to reach the property. At the same time, dread tiptoed through his chest. The way the two strangers back in Domistad had described it, a great deal of death awaited them at the estate.
A wrought iron gate loomed farther down the road, signaling their arrival at the manor. The gates had been left wide open, like someone had torn through them in a hurry. As Killian neared, he saw flourished letters twisted into a design on the gates. He paused, brows furrowed, as he deciphered the swirling script.
Et stellae exurere.
He was unfamiliar with the language. But as the others came to a stop behind him, a soft voice called over his shoulder.
“‘Even the stars burn out.’”
A shiver coursed through Killian. He turned to find Sera, her gaze boring into the gate, studying each letter as if entranced.
“It’s meant to be a reminder,” Sera continued, sliding past Killian as she stepped to the gate. She laid a hand on the worn iron, touching it gently like she was soothing a beast. “Everything comes to an end, so cherish it while it lasts.”
The “reminder” brought little comfort. He knew all too well how fleeting life’s joys were without some inanimate object spelling it out for him. So many things he’d loved had been taken from him. His brother and sister, stolen by a spell gone wrong. His father, whose heart had failed him far too young. His position in the Royal Guard, which had been revoked after he failed to arrest the woman he cared for. And now, in a vile twist of fate, that woman had been taken from him as well.
Killian couldn’t help himself as his eyes shifted toward Elyse. She stood with her arms crossed and her lip curled into a sneer. “What a load of shit,” she drawled, and marched through the gate.
That star had exploded into oblivion.
Sera lingered, eyeing the gate. She seemed reluctant to leave, but after a long moment, she strolled ahead with Manny. Sparing one last look at the morbid quote, Killian followed after them.
With each step past the gate, the dread in Killian’s stomach unfurled. It was the same dread he’d felt as he approached Prestowne, and all the other cities they’d visited these past weeks. Trepidation for what he was about to witness, and a helplessness that he was too late to stop it. Even the temperature seemed to drop, his sweat chilling him. He didn’t know if it was fear, intuition, or the enduring effects of dark magic.
The dirt path became one of smooth, gray stone lined with hedges and vibrant tulips. Limestone statues flanked the walkway, heralding guests and guiding them forward. It was all meant to be welcoming, but as Killian’s gaze rose past the statuesand the pristine flowers, goose pimples prickled his skin. At the end of the path was a house of nightmares.
Every inch of the three-story manor house had been devoured by vines and leaves. Killian couldn’t even tell whether the house was made of stone or wood or something else altogether. The greenery covered every wall, every shutter, snaking in through broken windows and cracked doors. It looked as if the house itself had been born of the forest, as ancient as the evergreens surrounding them. Yet it held none of the beauty of nature. It was vicious and vile, and seemed to thrum with an obscene hunger, like the flora wouldn’t be satisfied until it had swallowed every inch of the earth.
Killian’s knees buckled, but he pushed himself forward until he caught up to Manny and Sera. Manny shot him a sideways look as they closed in on the house. Killian said nothing. He had no words for the haunting, ivy-infested fortress ahead of them.
Elyse stopped before the stairs that led up to the front doors, perched at the threshold between ordinary and extraordinary. A hand on her hip, she leered at the monstrosity. She seemed wholly unaffected by the eerie chill in the air or the vines that had erupted from the ground to destroy everything in their wake. If anything, she looked intrigued.
Killian and the others halted behind her, none of them eager to move any closer to the cursed place. A roiling in his stomach told him this would be another loose end to add to their growing list, that there would be no evidence pointing to Lazarus’s motivation. There would only be remnants of his devastation. Still, he watched Elyse, hoping she might be the missing piece.She’d been Lazarus’s servant for many years; perhaps she would be more perceptive of any lingering clues.
