Her voice trails off, and I wait a beat before filling in the blanks. “Ronnie ripped out her spine. It nearly killed her. My ice healed her, but it took a lot of trial and error. I think because our magic is so similar that her body accepted my ice and I was able to fuse her spine together.”
Phillippe backs up when Legs tugs too hard, bringing one hand toward her chest like she’s shocked. “That’s nearly unheard of. For such an injury, it’s nearly impossible to bring back the dead. The princess who Zarev favors, Rapunzel? She has some healing magic, thanks to a flower she was given at birth, one from the gardens here. But even that has its limitations.” She sighs. “For someone close to Death, it could never save a life, just delay the inevitable. Humans are not meant to play with Death like that. Even you Reapers still have a touch of life in you. At your heart, you are souls turned to mages, people who control the shadows. But you are, in essence, still souls. ThereisDeath on you. Trying to stop the claws of Death only ever ends in disaster. You should understand that, Ban. Coming back not once, but twice, leaves a burden on you.”
Neve’s eyes nearly pierce my side from their intensity, but I don’t look toward her. “Why can’t Rapunzel save a life on the brink of death if she has that magic? Davina—the Mad Queen—she killed us, and we were saved. Myself twice.”
“Davina,” Legs hisses, rubbing at her chest. She’s more and more troubled the longer we speak. “That’s a name weshouldn’t utter here. What she’s done leaves only the Mad Queen behind.”
Zarev and Odette choose that time to return, walking with Odette’s bag slung across her shoulders and books tucked beneath her arms. Zarev appears to have a sack, too, that presumably holds food and supplies. They appear ready to go, though the sun is nowhere near setting.
Legs doesn’t stop her tale just because they’ve arrived. “The Mad Queen works only in black magic. She’s selling her soul to be able to get what she wants.”
I lean forward, and Zarev does, too. “And what does she want?”
“If only we knew,” Legs says with a sigh, stealing my elation with it. It’s just another dead end. “She crafted you four, killed you, and yet now she seems to find the Reapers a nuisance. You’ve upset her plans, but it remains a mystery to me how. Four friends could never stop her madness, not in the state she left you in. Why you four were specifically chosen is one of the many unknowns.”
I’m sick of the mysteries, if I’m being honest. There never seems to be an ending to them.
“I heard you mention Rapunzel,” Zarev says vaguely, but there’s nothing gentle about it. There’s a hard edge to his words, and I cock my head to study him. He always sounds so protective when it comes to this princess I haven’t met.
Legs nods, spreading her hands. “We were discussing the healing properties of magic. Rapunzel is gifted, but no one is all-powerful. Her healing has limitations. She might be able to stave off death for a time, but not forever. Theoretically, it would get harder each time she tried. I wouldn’t imagine she could control that type of magic on a single person more than two or three times.”
Silence settles around us, and Legs picks up on it as Zarev speaks. “You’ve heard of Tom’s injuries, haven’t you? She’s been caring for him for weeks. Her magic has been keeping him alive.”
“Her magic istorturinghim,” Legs corrects, her eyes dropping to the ground. “She might be able to force the flesh to mend and the heart to pump, but if the injuries to Raymundo’s brother are so great, she is prolonging the inevitable. Until his soul can pass from his body, Thomas is trapped in endless pain. He can’t separate, meaning he cannot be reaped and saved from suffering.”
“That can’t be right,” Odette argues, her eyes pleading. “These two lived after catastrophic injuries! And they are perfectly fine.”
I wouldn’t go that far, Princess.
“And Ray would never put his brother through torture if he didn’t think it would help,” she continues, crossing her arms. “Rapunzel’s powerful. I’ve seen her magic at work. She can do things like no one else I’ve seen.”
“No one?” Legs asks, peering around at the four of us in turn. “Magic is passed through the generations. Midas cursed his young daughter by giving her a magical tea to enhance gifts he hoped she would have. Your parents were blessed with a healthy child, yet a wizard found you and changed the course of your life. The Frostlands lived under a monarchy beneath the heel of a tyrannical rule for a century after the true Queen disappeared. Rapunzel can do things you have yet to see from another, but she is not the only person to possess healing abilities. Even with the magic she gained from the Phoenix Rose stolen from my garden, she is not all-powerful. The magic she gifts young Thomas has its limits. Eventually, it will fail. The only ones who can banish death are those who walk the path.”
I’m trying to put everything Legs said in order when Neve speaks again. “This rose was stolen?”
Legs waves a hand like that’s a small detail. “Many years ago, around the time the princess was born. A woman snuck into the garden and took one of my blooms. It made its way back to Tressa, and for almost three decades, it both gave the princess her magic and controlled it in turn.”
“But how did someone know which rose to pluck?” Neve continues, and it’s something that never even occurred to me to ask. “Your plants here are diverse. I know I don’t have much experience with flowers, given where I grew up, but I would guess that there aren’t many books about what’s in this garden?”
Legs hesitates. “So far as I’m aware, there are no books.”
“So how would a random person sneak in here and take the exact plant they’re looking for without insight?” Neve says, perplexed. “Wouldn’t someone have to point her in that direction?”
It’s a damn good point, and even though I don’t know much about Rapunzel, I can almost see the gears in Zarev’s head spinning as he takes it all in. Did they not ask this question when, I assume, Legs told them this tale? Perhaps they learned another way, but it seems a reasonable thing to wonder.
He starts to speak. “How did–”
Margo flies into the space from above, her wide butterfly wings stretched to reflect a ladybug pattern across the transparent wings. In reality, they are small black hearts on the red wings, courtesy of Davina. It marks her as one of the many spies for the court. “You four! It’s time to go. There are troops approaching from the east.”
Zarev chucks the bag he’s carrying into a swirl of shadows, still glaring at Legs. “This isn’t over.”
“I know nothing more than you,” she hisses back.
Margo gets between them, ever the valiant guard to the mage. “This is not the time to fight! The dead in Wonderland quake with your arrival. Until you are out of this kingdom, the Queen will know that you are here. You’ve caused a stir with your magic and the spirits are seeking you out! You have overstayed your welcome, and we cannot risk the Queen learning you were in the garden. Her spies will report back what they find.”
“You,” I cut in, and Margo practically sneers at me. “You and the rest of the butterflies will report to her, like good little spies.”
Margo’s back straightens as her gaze hardens. “We’re doing our job. It’s the only thing that can keep us safe out here. You are just passersby. We have to remain.”
