Risa dared not look away. “I remember how you helped with my shoulder. Javi remembersnotbeing able to see your face.”
The Wolf seemed to sway with shock.
“You really are the princess,” Javi said, awe coloring his voice. He leaned forward. “What happened?”
The Wolf placed a hand at her throat and took a steadying breath. “Five years ago, General Sur killed my family.”
It was a strange sensation to hear the words—to understand them and process them—and find them already eager to disappearinto the ether. Risa had to cling to the Wolf’s voice, straining to keep her thoughts gathered at the forefront of her mind, repeating them like a mantra as the girl continued to explain.
“He said he’d discovered a treasonous plot and took us down to the dungeons. Where it was safest. Where, besides the stairway, there was no means of entering—or escaping.”
Risa held her breath, scared that any movement might break the spell and whisk the words out of her head too quickly.
“We were lined up against a wall. The guards had pistols. But I had this beneath my dress.” The Wolf made a vague gesture toward the belt at her hips, where several gleaming gems were inlaid in the buckle in the shape of some kind of insignia. “It was supposed to be a surprise for Baba. The bullets must have bounced off. But in the ensuing madness, one slashed at my face and neck.”
Linda and Brunie both made pitiful sounds of despair.
“When I came to, my family was dead. But the guards were gone and the general’s daughter found me.” The Wolf took a stuttering breath, her fingers tracing the line of her scar. “We were friends. Best friends. She didn’t know what had happened—the general lied and told her we had left for the summer palace. But she didn’t believe him, and when she overheard some guards talking about the massacre, she came down to the dungeons. Told me to run away. To never let anyone find me. To stay safe.”
“Your curse.” Risa blinked in a sorry attempt to make sense of the Wolf’s face, disconcerting as it was to stare at it in the open. “Who—?”
The Wolf gave a half shrug. “I told you, I don’t know. Once I was on the road, I noticed no one could look at me. When I tried to find shelter or get food, people would forget they’d dealt with me.”
She tugged her hood back on, and her face shifted into something more solid. Risa’s mind settled with relief.
“It was easier when my face was covered. Like it gave me… definition. Then, when no one talked about my family, their murders, the kingdom, the general, I realized no one knew what had happened. And when I crossed the desert and came here, I realized no one knewofMadros. We were forgotten, relegated to being some unknown kingdom across the desert.”
It occurred to Risa that even if the Wolf found a way to cross the desert again and somehow managed to get the general to admit to all he’d done, she wouldn’t be able to take back her throne or rule. She was an enigma, and the spell surrounding her kingdom might continue.
The Wolf needed to be whole again.
“Could you break her curse?” Risa asked the witch.
Linda shook her head. At least she looked devastated. “No. Very rarely can magic be purposely undone. Think of magic as knots. Witches use their own knots to form spells and enchantments; the tighter the knot, the better the spell. The more knots there are, the more powerful the spell will be. Most knots unravel on their own without a witch there to keep feeding the magic. But a curse?” She shivered delicately, shimmering silver sparks shedding off her skin. “That is beyond powerful. Imagine a jumble of knots, each more complicated than the one before and impossible to pull apart.”
“Or tangled roots,” Risa whispered. “Continuing to grow, choking and snarling.”
She felt Linda watching her, silver eyes twinkling like caught starlight. “Yes, I suppose that’s another way to describe it.”
Javi turned to her. “Why don’t you do it? You’ve done it before.”
Risa shook her head, avoiding Linda’s inquisitive stare.
She couldn’t, because she didn’t even know where to begin. Back in Cairn, it had been desperation, an unknowing effort. Javi’s blond hair was more spell than curse, easy to pluck apart. But Risa had felt the power in the Wolf’s curse, had seen how deep and far it extended.
Yet Risa also knew what it was like to hope that someone had the answer to her problem, the missing piece of the puzzle. She had spent her life hoping someone could break her curse. Had hoped for a whole year that Brunhilda might be that someone.
Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on the Wolf’s curse again, searching for those curling vines. When she couldn’t, she imagined the knots Linda mentioned, all around the Wolf, and tried to unravel each one. And because that didn’t feel like it was working, either, she tried with a simple command.
“I break your curse.”
Opening her eyes, she saw nothing had changed. The Wolf was still consumed by her curse.
“I can’t,” she whispered, eyes cast down to the floor. It didn’t matter that she was sorry, that she wished she could do more than give bad news. But Risa wasn’t made to do good.
She heard the rustle of the Wolf’s cloak as the girl moved.
“It is okay,” the Wolf said, voice small.
