A twisted grin split Lysander’s narrow face. “Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know,” Evander said, leaning against the doorframe. The rain rattled on the street, streaming in a rivulet underLysander’s feet. “Because that would be a petty, cruel thing to do, and you’re not petty and cruel, are you?”
“How do you know I don’t need it?” Lysander spat. “Maybe I fell from a dragon and split my head, same as you.”
Evander snorted. “You have to get on a dragon’s back in order to fall from one.”
The boy’s mouth tightened, then he yanked the lid from the tin and flipped it over.
“No!” Valenna gasped.
The last of the wyvern bone powder fell in a clump into the water and then washed away in a cloudy current.
Valenna stared in blank shock. Then her hand tightened on Lysander’s shoulder. She didn’t speak. The cobbles burst apart as a tree, its trunk oozing and black like it was half decayed, grew behind the boy. He wailed as it reached out and embraced him with its twisted arms.
Valenna’s tenuous tower of hopes crashed around her. She had been so certain they could find a remedy. Impossible that there was no hope. She couldn’t accept it.
“Val, let him go,” Evander said, stepping onto the stoop.
Evander had been right: the rosy glow of their new marriage was gone, and everywhere she looked, she saw pain and sorrow and loss.
Her fury swamped her, her vision fogged.
“Val.” Evander gripped her arm, but she couldn’t hear him. “You need to stop!”
“He poured out that powder,” she hissed. “Well, now he will need it for himself!”
Her magic billowed; vines snaked over the cobbles.A branch covered Lysander’s mouth, muffling his cries. Madly, she imagined he was her father, and a bramble looped over his throat, piercing his skin.
“I failed.” A breeze picked up, swirling leaves around her. “I thought I could save you, but I couldn’t do it. I … I don’t understand. It’s so UNFAIR!”
Evander pulled her toward him. “You’ve lost so much. You’ve suffered so much. It’s not fair, but it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have prevented any of this, and you don’t have to answer for it.”
A small crowd had gathered around the shop, but Valenna didn’t see them. She couldn’t even see Evander anymore—her father’s face filled her mind, and his voice echoed in her ears.
Worthless, weak child! Choke down your silly tears. They are a sign of an untethered will.
“I'm a wretched, wicked woman, and I don’t deserve to be happy!” She ground her teeth. “My father’s cruelty made me a monster, and I can’t escape who I am. My magic took everything from me, even you!” Her voice rose to a shriek; belladonna and stinging nettles spread from her feet in a deadly garden, scattering the crowd. Lysander wriggled free and ran down the street as poison ivy covered the walls, and glowing firefig trees peeled the cobbles aside and climbed from the earth like monstrous undead crawling from their graves.
“But that is not who you have to be.” Evander held onto her as her zephyrs battered him. “You must fight back or this is going to pull you apart!"
He was right. Hissing tendrils entwined her waist.
“Run, Van,” she rasped.
He hesitated.
“Please!” she pleaded frantically. “RUN!”
Understanding and fear filled Evander’s eyes … but he did not run.
“GO!” she screamed through her teeth. Thorns cut her arms and legs. Her ribs ached, and she felt as though something were winding up her throat, choking her.
Then a wave of purple wind ripped out of her, withering every green thing in its path. It knocked her off her feet. Her back struck the street. People shrieked, windows shattered. And then silence. Only the hiss of the raindrops on the singed ground and the breeze carrying the magic away.
Valenna blinked at the sky, her body stinging. The buildings warped, and the clouds spiraled overhead. Her garden of venom dissolved into dust.
She sat up, her ears ringing. The street was empty—all the onlookers had fled. Evander lay beside her, breathing heavily. Blood turned the water pink as it ran past his head.
