“Briona never told us to return the real stone to her,” Saeldian said. “The job’s done. Watch. I’m going to pack and leave immediately, and I’m never going back to Waterdeep again.”
Jubilee held out her hands to stop Saeldian but cocked her head. “You’re not under the vow-stone binding.”
“You aren’t either. Try it.”
“I’m ditching all of you, and I’m going to Candlekeep,” Jubilee said. “Nothing.”
“What are you doing?” Lorzok asked.
“The agreement bound us into a fey bargain like a geas,” Kell said. “If we thought about breaking the deal, the promise would hurt us until we changed our minds.”
Lorzok looked at them all and said, “That never happened to me.”
He still didn’t deserve a friend like Lorzok. “Of course not. You never had a reason to turn back.”
“But the vow is broken, and the true Kiss of Enduring Love is in our possession,” Lorzok said. “So the point wasn’t stealing the Kiss—it was planting the forgery. That you had to activate with a spell, Saeldian.”
“And it was tricky to do. And when it all kind of went silent, I woke it up with my magic and—Oh shit. The magic. I set the magic on the stone we put in the casket.”
Saeldian stared at their hands in horror.
“The job’s done,” Lorzok said. “We can just go back. We can explain and return the gem—”
“The starless winter was happening that night,” Jubilee said. “What do you want to bet that we’re too late?”
“Not a copper,” Saeldian said, and all the blood drained from their face. “No. Oh, fuck no.”
Kell couldn’t help it. He laid his hand on Saeldian’s shoulder. “What is it?”
“The power,” Saeldian said. “When I ran into that witch who set the dire troll on us, and I was so strong. I’m still strong. Stronger than I’ve ever been.”
“What are you saying?” Kell asked.
“I don’t think we actually needed Shuahn’s hourglass,” Saeldian said. “I didn’t somehow escape breaking my pact. I did break it.”
“But you can still do magic.”
“I can. And I shouldn’t be able to. Unless I’m getting the power from somewhere else.”
This was going too fast for Kell, but Lorzok straightened up with shock and bumped his head on the ceiling.
“Hells and high fey,” Jubilee breathed.
Saeldian looked sick. “What have I done?”
A horn call split the air.
Kell grabbed his crossbow. Saeldian was already out the door; he chased them to a crowd gathered around—
“Helfyra,” Saeldian said.
Kell covered his mouth. “What happened? Lorzok? Filandior? Someone help!”
His voice rose, too loud, split at the sight of the elf who had welcomed them to Hearthaven’s Repose. She was bent, and stiff on one side where her skin had hardened like bark, with rusty orange lesions that dug under the skin. She looked up as he cried for help and pointed a finger with black knots at the knuckles. Reddish-brown fungus tipped with white grew from her rib cage.
“We gave you hospitality,” Helfyra said in a voice like dry twigs. Overripe apples gone to mold wafted on her breath. “We welcomed you.”
“Help her,” Kell said. “Please.”
