Just thinking about him almost makes me smile.
Lifting his conch to my lips, I tilt it, then pour three small words into the hollow scoop that gobbles them up …
“I miss you.”
I instantly hate myself when the words come out raw and choked, weighing down the shell. Because I know he’ll worry, and that’s the last thing I want.
Swallowing thickly, I tuck the conch close to my heart. Something little shifts beyond the spilling water—darting through the door, then settling on the ground. My curiosity scrapes together my remaining dregs of energy, and I ease onto my knees, pushing my upper body past the gushing sheet.
Wiping my eyes, I look at the familiar sprite lost amid the steam, though I can still make out the tiny black piercing in the tip of her tapered ear, poking free from cloudy curls sticking out in all directions.
“Hi, Spider Bite.”
She blinks at me.
My gaze drops to the package she’s hugging against her chest, as though it’s the most precious thing she’s ever been given.
“Is that for me?” I ask, composing my voice.
My face.
She nods, hopping forward, her fluffy brows bunched, worry staining her big, inky eyes.
“I’m fine,” I rasp, flopping my hand onto the stone between us—palm up. “I just … haven’t eaten enough spiders today.”
Her frown deepens, and I internally curse myself. I’ll probably end up with a stack of them stuffed beneath my pillow later.
Another hop forward, the fierce flutter of her lacy wings softening her landing as she settles beside my hand and sets her package in my palm.
I curl my fingers around it.
“Thank you,” I whisper, retrieving the bloom and placing it close, nudging it toward her. “For your troubles. You’ve been doing a lot of fluttering about for me lately. I’m sure it’s very tiring …”
She crouches, picks it up, and tucks it against her chest, looking down at the bloom, back at me, head tilted and eyes wide. With a slow nod that gains strength and speed, she leaps off the ground in a dusty blur, then darts through the doorway, disappearing from my line of sight.
I open my hand, looking at the parcel. Wondering.
Hoping.
I pick at the delicate knot of string binding it all together, unraveling the layer of silk to reveal a round, white seed no larger than the tip of my pinky finger.
For a moment, all I can do is stare, a lump swelling in my throat that’s hard to swallow.
He did it.
Zane got my message. Made sure it got to his uncle. Meaning Zali got hers, as well.
You’re amazing, kid …
I clutch the seed within my fist and cradle it close to my heart, then ease onto my back, eyes closed, battling the wave of emotion threatening to wear me down.
Such a tiny, seemingly insignificant seed, but to me … it’severything.
It’shope.
Not only do I have the antidote I desperately need for my plan to work, but this seed is a sign that Gunthar’s on board with everything I need from him.
The rest is up to me.
