“It’s different for me,” Reeve said, sidestepping her question. “Siphoning once wasn’t enough to make me lust after ellixen the way they do. They’ll never be able to stop needing it, their bodies too dependent on having a regular fix, even if they’ve disciplined themselves not to require it fresh from the source anymore.”
“You mean, fresh from children.”
“Mostly, yes,” Reeve said, wading out of the water onto a bank of pebbles.
“Mostly?” Viri repeated.
“Reapers can siphon from adults—you know that.”
Viri shoved away the image of her dead parents. “It’s not a temptation, though, since adults don’t have enough ellixen to be worth their trouble.”
“Mostadults,” Reeve corrected, ducking beneath a leafy branch that appeared out of nowhere. “It’s rare, but there are others like Wynter and me, people older than fourteen who chanced burnout and never Imparted. Most are shallows, not mages, but even shallows have more ellixen than those who have yielded to the obelisks. And for the few of us with mage levels of power, we have considerably more ellixen than everyone else, including children, so we’re actually more appealing to steal from. A bigger meal, so to speak.”
Viri felt queasy at the thought of anyone siphoning from Wynter.
“We’re much harder to kill than kids,” Reeve went on, as if that were meant to be a comfort. “It takes longer to siphon all our ellixen, and we usually have some control over our magic, at least enough to fight back. Still, you asked about fresh sources, and we technically count.”
Viri shuddered, almost wishing shehadn’tasked. She needed to think about something else, anything that would keep her from worrying about Wynter being targeted if her secret fell into the wrong hands, so she returned to their previous conversation. “You didn’t answer my question before. Not properly.”
“Which question?” Reeve asked as the ground shifted beneath them, turning into lush grass that grew higher than their heads.
Viri used her hands to push the stalks away. “The one about regrets.”
“What about them?”
Annoyed by his obvious avoidance, Viri grabbed his arm and pulled him to a halt right there in the middle of the tallgrass. “You said your friends all have regrets about the choices they made in the past. What about you? Do you regret what you did years ago?” Leaving no room for confusion, she clarified, “The girl you killed, the one you siphoned from—do you regretit?”
A storm of emotion rippled across Reeve’s face as his eyes locked with hers. She hadn’t realized until now just how important it was for her to hear him say the words: that he hated what he’d done and mourned his decision every day, that he wished he could go back in time and choose never to siphon from anyone, never tokillanyone. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she waited for any indication that he did have a heart buried beneath the monster he’d become, that there was some small chance of redemption for the boy she’d once cared so deeply for.
But then he answered, the words rasping out of somewhere deep inside him, laced with grief and yet painfully, brutally honest. “No. I don’t regret siphoning from her.”
Viri closed her eyes and turned away, wondering why she’d expected anything different. Why she’dhopedfor anything different.
“Viri—” he whispered, reaching for her.
“Let’s keep moving,” she said roughly, resisting his touch, her voice full of disappointment.
He didn’t try to offer an explanation or defend himself, as if he knew neither would do him any good. Instead, he just began walking through the grass again, seemingly oblivious to Viri’s heart cracking in her chest.
Or more likely just not caring.
They continued walking for another hour, two hours, three hours, with the forest ever-changing around them, but soon the lighting shifted as well, the afternoon sunshine dimming as the sky began to darken above the canopy. Viri’s nerves thrummed at the thought of spending the night in the Mistwood, but she did her best to ignore them, checking the map repeatedly to confirm that the end of the magical trail was swiftly approaching. If all went to plan, Reeve’s theory about the wayportal would prove true and they would be at the Guardian’s tower by nightfall. And ifnot—
No,Viri rebuked herself, stifling her dread before it could take hold. There was no point worrying about a problem that didn’t exist yet—or as her father used to say,“A problem’s not a problem until it’s a problem.”Her energy was much better spent staying positive and hoping for the best rather than yielding to negativity and feeding her fears.
To keep from obsessing over what they would or wouldn’t find at the end of the trail, Viri focused all her attention on where she put her feet, the forest becoming even more treacherous as the light faded, with hidden roots and rocks causing her to stumble with increasing regularity.
Tired, sore, and thirsty, she was just about to suggest to Reeve that they take a quick water break when the trees opened up in front of them, revealing another wildflower clearing, smaller than the last, with a trickling stream meandering through the middle. There was no mist in sight, the whole area bathed in sunset colors: oranges and pinks and purples that covered everything like a soft, cozy blanket. It looked so beautiful, so peaceful, that Viri could only stare in wonder.
But then she heard a sound, a whisper in her ear.
“Beware the wood.”
Viri spun around, but there was no one beside her other than Reeve, whose brows rose in question.
“Beware the mist.”
This time the sound was whispered into her other ear, and she spun that way, but still, there was no one.
