“When you do break free, I hope you will consider what is at stake.”
A tether of control snapped.
“I understand perfectly well what I have to lose.” My unruly mouth had always gotten me into trouble, even before my resurrection. It gave Alize the opening she’d been seeking.
“I seriously doubt that,” she scoffed, laughing at me. My eyes flicked open. I could not very well keep them closed while the fae bitch laughed at me. But her expression was unconcerned, casual. “Why go to all the trouble of sending you through the first five gates, ensuring you are protected by a Lifebind, only to capture you before you completed all seven?”
It was a stupid question. I had not thought that Alize was so naïve.
“Power. Maura said so herself—why be a head witch when she might be a witch queen in her own right?” Her words had echoed in my mind ceaselessly since the Memory Gate.
“That is the easy answer,” Alize agreed. “But it’s not the only one.”
Not naïve. Manipulative.
“They sent you here to deceive me once again.”
“No one sends me anywhere,” Alize said, her voice hardening. This time, she did not pace the outline of my cell to regain her façade. She let me see the earnest loathing that painted her features.
I would not indulge her anymore. I willed the power surging in my veins to my mouth, to freeze my fucking lips in place before they betrayed me again.
But Alize’s eyes were no longer on me. They’d flickered downward, to the untouched tray of food and the magically steaming pot of water with its tea leaves waiting alongside.
Her brow furrowed, so quick and so slight I almost missed it before she said, “Someone left you a gift.”
What was the meaning of that furrow?
“I’d rather starve,” I said honestly. Or die of dehydration, in the case of the tea. But I didn’t bother with the distinction.
Alize crouched down and reached across the thick line of salt as if it were nothing. The power inside of me thrashed, rivulets of ice solidifying inside my veins. If I’d sliced open my hand at that moment, there would have been no blood to flow. Just scarlet crystals.
It took every bit of control, every technique that Tomin had taught me to keep my power from eviscerating the arm she reached into my prison. Arrogant or stupid. Which one was she?
Which one was I?
I could freeze the blood in her veins, blacken her fingers to the point of uselessness. But it would be temporary. She was fae. Her magic healing would save her fingers and reverse any harm I could manage. Any damage I inflicted would only piss her off. Unless she stepped over the line of salt completely so I could get at her vital organs.
She was the only person who’d come to visit me—my only connection to the world beyond this deserted bathhouse. If Iinjured her, who knew when they might send someone else… or what might happen to Isanara in the meantime?
Alize dipped her fingers into the shallow dish of tea leaves, gently moving the dried herbs to the side. Then she withdrew, a single stem pinched between her index finger and thumb.
“Torture yourself if you want,” she said, nodding to the tray of food. But her eyes remained fixed on the greenery in her hand, the head of leaves no bigger than my thumbnail. “But don’t steep this with your tea.”
I leaned as close as I dared to the line of salt. From what I could tell, there was nothing special about the tiny four-leaved plant Alize held. But if she’d withdrawn it, it must have some value. Or this was another manipulation. Fuck me. It was easier when I’d been drugged and sleeping.
“So they are attempting to poison me.” That was why I had not touched the initial offering of sustenance.
Alize shrugged. “If it fits with their goals, they would not hesitate. But this is not poison. This is a four-leaf clover.”
It was bright, verdant green, unlike the dried leaves.
I shrugged, mimicking her nonchalance. “The fae hoard magic. It is little surprise that they have managed to grow something green, small as it is.”
“No fae would have grown this. At least, none aligned with my father,” she amended. “It allows the bearer to see through fae glamours.”
It was the first direct thing she’d said to me. Which made it all the more suspect.
Anyone could have placed it in my cell. I’d been in and out of consciousness for at least a few days. I had not seen the tray of food delivered. Had the mysterious little clover arrived with the tray, or been added later?
