Opening my mouth, I try to think of something to say but it closes after a few seconds. I’m not brave enough to say the words yet—not when Renata’s sad eyes are peeking at me through her lashes, or when my sister’s expression looks distraught. She doesn’t have an idea about what’s to come, but she knows something isn’t right.
Letting out a breath, Renata does her best to straighten her shoulders. When it doesn’t feel good enough, she leans back in her chair and wraps an arm around her stomach.
“So, about last night…” She starts.
After a few silent seconds, Esme does what she does best—brings light to any conversation. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one a few times.”
Renata lets out a small chuckle, and it’s the most lively sound I’ve heard from her today. Looking a little more relaxed, she starts from the beginning, telling us details I haven’t heard yet.
“I was waiting for Archer in my room,” she says, and her cheeks warm. This time, none of the other witches tease her, and I offer them a quick, appreciative glance. “I couldn’t sleep, and I was restless. I went down to the conservatory. At first, things were normal, but I blinked and then… I was there with them.”
She quickly works through every moment she can recall before she closes her eyes and shakes her head, the memories of Petra’s emotions lingering. “Archer found me before the reunion happened.”
She offers me a faint smile and grabs my hand, setting them in my lap.
I try to hide my surprised satisfaction. She was openly clinging to me last night. In the light of day, I wasn’t sure whether she would retreat back to the feigned secrecy we’ve kept.
Giving her a squeeze, I say to the table, “I think I know where Nestor went—or where he was trying to go. I’m not sure if he ever made it.”
With everyone’s eyes on me, I tell them aboutThe Lost Heroand Nestor’s possible search for everoot. The travel time would have been a bit slower compared to today, but it shouldn’t have taken him three and half years to return.
“Whydid he go?” Clementine asks.
I open my mouth to explain but with a gentle voice, Renata cuts in. “Petra mentioned one of the witches in the coven was sick—decay fever. She and Nestor were… close friends.”
Esme and Clover’s eyes meet, a warning look from the Green Witch.
Rowyn mutters, “Another affair, dear Gods.”
“It sounds like it was more of a crush, but she never said where he went–only that he left. It was complicated,” I add.
“It was Cassia, wasn’t it?” Clementine asks.
Nodding, Renata leans forward, trying to catch her eye. “It was. She—she didn’t make it. However, we have a small jar of everoot, and we won’t let anything happen to you.” Her gaze moves to the older Foxglove sister. “Neither of you.”
“He was trying to tell us,” Rowyn says suddenly. “Nestor—that morning we found the everoot and he knocked it off the counter.”
“He took me to the cabinet before showing me where Petra hid the rest of her journals too,” I say, forgetting that in the chaos of everything else.
“Nestor wanted us to know where he was when they betrayed him,” Rowyn adds.
Renata sits up a little straighter, and her hold on my hand tightens. “They thought he wasdead, Rowyn. It wasn’t some affair behind his back.”
She holds up her hands in a surrender. “I didn’t mean to offend them, or you. But he was trying to tell us something.”
Renata doesn’t argue, instead agreeing to Nestor’s intentions. He’s still nowhere to be seen.
“I’m going to go see Calista,” I suddenly cut in, looking up to avoid the fear in each of their expressions. “We need answers—to find out if Nestor ever got that far.”
“Do you think there are answers there?” Rowyn asks. “Maybe something to change your fate?”
Sybil sits up straight and snaps, “What does that mean?” She’s been a silent observer until now.
“Bil, I only have one theory of what could end the curse right now,” I gently say.
All of the other witches look at me, surprised that I’m taking the blame for this theory.
My sister looks around the table with wide eyes. “Why do they all know, then?”
