Stellan's breath caught, but he said nothing.
Cade finally stepped forward, quiet but steady. “You think she didn’t know what helping us would cost? She saw the end. And she still chose this path.”
Bridget’s throat tightened. The echo of her words on the roof melted her chest.
He paused, letting the silence settle before adding, “Don’t make her sacrifice meaningless. We need you… not just to find the crown, but because she believed you were the one who could figure out how. She wouldn’t have requested it if she didn’t think you had an idea of where to find it.”
After a long, heavy moment, Stellan rose to his feet. Bridget watched the war behind his eyes as the weight of history pressed down on him. And for a flicker of a second, she could’ve sworn he was seeing them not as strangersshaped by distance and pain, but as the Bridget and Cade he used to know. The ones who hadn’t yet lost him.
“You don’t understand what you’re asking,” Stellan said quietly, reaching for a weathered, leather-bound book on the table next to where he’d been sitting.
Cade stiffened. “That’s the grimoire with all the blood spells,” he said, his voice flat, guarded.
The one he’d used to possess Archer through the gate. Bridget’s eyes flicked to the fireplace, where the embers had long since died, then to the now empty space on the table where the book must have been. A chill slid down her spine. Had he been planning to burn it before they arrived?
And then she realized why.
“The blood spell,” Bridget whispered. “It’s the only way to access my memories… isn’t it?”
Cade’s head snapped toward her, eyes wide with alarm. A dull ache pulsed along her side, right where the old scars still lingered. The truth settled like ice in her chest. The location of the crown was what Quinn had been searching for inside her, all those months ago.
Stellan’s eyes remained on Cade. “It’s the only way.”
The muscles in Cade’s throat tightened. “You don’t understand,” he said, voice rough. “There was so much blood. I thought she haddiedwhen I finally found where they’d been keeping her. It’s too dangerous.”
A knife sliced through Bridget’s chest, but Stellan stayed calm.
“That was before the curse broke,” he said. “The memory was buried then under magic so strong, no one could touch it. Now? It should be closer to the surface. Easier to reach.”
Bridget stepped forward, her voice steady despite the weight behind the question. “And the price?”
Stellan’s lips curled into a faint smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Well, it’s a good thing we’ve got a Druid on our side.”
“I can’t do this.”
Cassia paced in front of her bed. She’d repeated the same words for the last five minutes, despite the pleas and reasonings of the others in the room. Even Castor’s calm voice and reassurance that he wouldn’t let her push herself too far couldn’t calm her down. Bridget leaned heavily against one of the carved bedposts, her head pounding. Cassia’s relentless movement was starting to make her dizzy.
“Yes, you can,” Stellan said, though fatigue edged his voice. “I’ll walk you through it step by step. You’ll draw from the Bloodstone. That way, you won’t accidentally take too much for one of us.”
“Besides,” Bridget muttered, “you’re not the one getting poked and prodded.”
She shot Cade a look, tired and pleading, silently urging him to say something that might break through. If anyone could get through to Cassia, it was him.
“You’re the only one who can do this, Cass,” Cade said, squaring his shoulders to meet his sister’s panicked gaze. The silence between them crackled with unspoken meaning, a twin language Bridget had learned not to interrupt.
“And this can’t wait until morning?” Cassia asked aloud.
“We don’t know that Quinn was the only one out there creating Wraiths or working for Vega,” Cade said. “Based on the attacks on the Kastronian border, there has to be more than just one of those creatures out there. We should get ahead while we can. Marin didn’t die for us to just sit around and wait for something else to happen. And since Bridget and I are leaving for Andarre in a few days… It's now or never.”
Stellan’s throat bobbed at his words, his expression tight with restrained grief. Cassia still looked unconvinced, her arms wrapped tightly around herself like armor.
Castor stepped forward. “I know what you’re worried about, but what you did to the Wraith doesn’t make you evil or like Vega. Your powers are unique and it doesn’t make you dangerous… It makes you powerful. That isn’t a bad thing. It’s time to embrace it.”
The gentle conviction in his voice softened something in Cassia’s posture. Her arms loosened at her sides. She didn’t respond, but she didn’t pace anymore either.
Bridget glanced sideways at Delphine. Her friend stood still as stone, but her lips trembled ever so slightly. Bridget reached over and gently squeezed her forearm in silent support.
“Cass… please. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t trust you.”
