“Wild magic is a tricky thing, not made from tithes or anything wecan touch. Its power depends on the spirit of the feeling or gesture it comes from. For Shearwater, its magic is fueled by … by a sense of belonging. When you walk a long road, and your feet are sore, but you come home to a dog wagging its tail and a lover kissing your cheek and saying, “Welcome home,” that’s where Shearwater gets its magic. To return it to the way it once was, you need to show Shearwater the meaning of home again.”
“By dying,” Kessian finished. His voice shook. “The strid absorbs one of us, who’ve finally found our home, and through us the wild magic returns, is that it?”
“No.” I shook my head in adamant denial. “No, that can’t be how it works.Moresacrifice?”
“Kessian chose Shearwater to be his home. He has put down roots in the place, loved it so well he hasn’t left even when stripped of the four walls that sheltered him,” Laurelie said. “You are the Keeper because the strid chose you, too.”
“So it should be me,” Kessian said.
“No.” I’d lost all eloquence and could only repeat it more firmly. “No!”
“It need not be Kessian. You’ve fought this past week too, Tal. Not for Shearwater, but for your family, who was once your home as well. You have tried to repair the fractured relationships inflicted by Marlowe’s poisonous influence. And …” Laurelie got very quiet. “You are my brother. By joining me, I could go home as well.”
“A twisted kind of love if it kills him,” Kessian said bitterly.
“I didn’t want to trap either of you. Anytime I missed Tal, I’d find myself in the Bloodstream, dipping in and out of memories. Reaching for you, I suppose, in the only way I knew how.” Her face fell. “I wish it had not come to this.”
“Tell me there’s another way,” Kessian said. “We can bloody time travel in this place, so we can find a way to leave without one of us dying.”
“You are out of time to travel with,” Laurelie said.
Kessian consulted the pocket watch. The seconds ticked by slowly thanks to Lunaris, but there were still only fifteen minutes left. Not enough to make another leap through time and do anything of substance. And if we failed, we both drowned.
At least one of us ought to survive.
“I’ll do it,” I said.
“No you won’t,” Kessian said.
“This problem followed me around the country for nine years, and because I only now stopped to fix it, you’ve been dragged in.”
“You heard Laurelie. Ichosethis. I’ve had my time in Shearwater, had my chance to put down roots. You deserve the time, after nine years of isolation.”
“Of those nine years, the past week was the best of them.”
Color rose to Kessian’s cheeks, his steely gaze gone a little too shiny. “There will be more.”
“Stop talking about yourself like you’re already dead! The Ashbornes created this problem, an Ashborne should be the one to fix it.” He started to protest, but I said, “No. Not you. Please. My life has been a tragic series of goodbyes, but letting you die is one too many. I can’t bear it.”
Kessian gazed into my eyes with his shoulders set and his jaw clenched, but as he took in my resolve, he slowly unwound.
Shadow had started to creep beneath the door and into the lock. There came the minuscule click of it turning.
“We do not have much time left to argue,” said Laurelie.
“You’re sure?” said Kessian.
“I’m sure.”
Neither way was fair, but after all, I was very used to saying goodbye, and he was very used to being left behind.
Finally, he relented. “How can I argue? I can’t stop you. If I fought you, you’d win.”
Relief was not the word for what I felt, but I did feel a little release. I turned back to Laurelie. “What will happen to you?”
“In truth, I do not know. Perhaps I emerge from the spring, as you once did, but I fear I am too changed. I will probably die.”
“I don’t want to kill you.”
