“I don’t know.” Silas sounded like he genuinely didn’t know the answer. “I’m not sure it’s safe for you.”
“I’m not the one who missed a spot,” I informed him. “I rather think it might be a good idea to do this the right way. Let me give it a go.”
“How can you possibly see that?” Silas glanced down at the fat glass bottle he’d set on the ground. There were a few drops left. He reached down, retrieved it, and handed it to me. “There’s not much left.”
“It’s a small hole,” I told him. “That’s where it’s leaking through and weakening the whole thing.”
Silas took a step back. I held the bottle and studied the fortifying potion inside of it. I didn’t need anyone to explain to me that this was like an enchanted superglue—it wasn’t meant to fix the deep, root issues of what was happening within the wards, it was only meant to buy us time.
The way Silas had patched the wards was clearly meant to create a magical dam and stop the overflow of the curse onto untainted lands. It would eventually crack, and the curse would seep through. Continuous patching wouldn’t be an option, but for now, we needed time. This should buy us a few days at least.
As I poured out the last few drops onto my hands, I felt the magic igniting inside me. The same magic that hadignited when I’d first touched the dagger, the dagger that now resided in the satchel in my horse’s pack. The same magic that had played within my veins when I’d healed Irina first, then the siren.
The golden glow linked with the other sources of magic, and I set to work following the line of Silas’s mending. I plucked and rearranged, creating an almost-invisible magical netting that would hold the curse back. It took me only a few minutes, but it was grueling work, and my strength was gone when I was done.
Silas studied the wards. At least, I was pretty sure that was what he was looking at, but now that the golden glow had grown faint, then disappeared entirely, the wards were back to an invisible shimmer in the air. Nothing more than a fracture between two worlds. A marker between good and evil.
I waited for Silas to comment, like a student waiting to be assigned their final grade. But instead of feedback, Silas merely bowed his head toward me.
“What the hell?” I blurted. “You’re doing it too.”
“Doing what?” he asked.
“You just bowed to me,” I said. “Don’t deny it.”
“I’m not,” Silas said simply.
“Why?” I asked.
“It was a way to acknowledge your power.” Silas sounded like his voice was struggling to remain in control. “You’remagnificent, Alessia.”
Without further explanation, Silas turned on a heel—almost angrily—and stomped back to his horse. He climbed on, waited for me to do the same, and then kicked off.
His horse broke into a gallop. Mine followed suit, and before I knew it, my hair was flying in the wind. We sailed too fast to speak. We flew back to the land he loved, the land on the verge of collapse—and the people who would die along with it.
Chapter 6
Once we reached WisteriaCottage, Silas and I climbed down from the horses. He walked me to the front door, then we both came to a stop.
“Do you want to come in?” I felt a bit awkward asking, seeing as this was Silas’s property.
“I can’t.” He leaned against the doorframe. “There are some things I need to take care of, and you need your rest.”
I didn’t argue because he wasn’t wrong. I was completely wiped out, and even though it was barely afternoon, I felt like I could sleep until tomorrow.
“I have more questions for you,” I said.
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. I’ll be back for you tomorrow.”
“To do what?” I asked. “Where do we go from here?”
Silas considered his words. “I’m not sure.”
“Okie dokie.”
“We’ll figure it out,” he promised. “Tomorrow, once you’ve recovered.”
“It’s been a big day,” I said in the understatement of the century. “I could use some sleep.”
