“You saved my life, after I saved yours.”
“It was only right,” Hamon said. “And I am a healer. It’s my sworn duty.”
“No one would have known. And if they had, they wouldn’t have blamed you. Queen Daleina wouldn’t have, and I know that’s what you care most about. Don’t worry, Hamon. I won’t speak of it again. It’s enough to know that deep down, you do love your mother.”
He was going to protest again, but she had closed her eyes and begun to snore.
And... he wasn’t sure she was completely wrong.
Merecot sipped the pine-needle tea and was surprised that it had honey in it, not poison. In Daleina’s shoes, she wasn’t sure that she’d be so gracious. “I apologize for trying to kill you again. I was upset.” The words felt awkward in her mouth, like pebbles stuffed in her cheeks. And “upset” didn’t begin to cover it.
Daleina didn’t say anything, and Merecot couldn’t be sure that Daleina had even heard. She had that distant look of talking with spirits.I used to wear that look.
“I appreciate that you haven’t put me in prison,” Merecot continued. She didn’t really understand why she had her freedom. She may not have power, but she should still be considered dangerous.Daleina is entirely too trusting. Or maybe she simply knows she’s the more powerful one now.“I’ll be returning to Semo, I guess.”
“You don’t have to,” Daleina said, stirring her tea. She had circles under her eyes but was still sitting as stiff and proper as Headmistress Hanna always did. “Queen Cajara is adjusting, I’m told. You could stay in Aratay. It was once your home.”
“Definitely can’t do that.” She’d never be able to bear the constant reminder of what she’d lost. And of what she’d nearly done. Putting down her teacup, Merecot crossed to the open window. A light breeze blew in, tinged with a hint of chill, a harbinger of the coming winter snows. “I truly thought it would work.”
“So did I. We share the blame.”
Merecot rolled her eyes. “I think I deserve more of the blame. Let me carry the guilt, Daleina. You’ve taken everything else from me.”
She heard Daleina sigh behind her. “That wasn’t my intent.”
“Intent or not, it happened, and now I have to live with it.”But live how?She’d always had her power. It had made her who she was. It had shaped every choice she’d ever made. Now when she reached for it, it felt like reaching for a ghost. It slipped through her fingers and faded into memory. It was even hard to recapture the feeling ofhowshe’d done it, pushing her thoughts out, sending others. Now when she pushed... she felt only silence, as if she were pushing into a dense down pillow.
Leaning against the window, Merecot viewed the city that she’d nearly ruled—she wondered if any of them knew the details of what had happened in the grove, and how much they’d hate her if they knew.
They probably already hate me, she thought.I did try to kill their queen—twice. And kidnapped their other queen’s children. And invaded, causing much of their forest to die. And, failing to control the spirits, let many others die...
She almost laughed at the thought.Ofcoursethey hate me. What she truly wondered was if they hated her as much as she hated herself.
Daleina was silent behind her, and Merecot felt an itch on the back of her neck, as if she were being stared at by dozens of bumblebees. It was annoying. “What?”
“I didn’t speak.”
“But you want to. Go on, say whatever you want to say.”
“Your affinity for spirits might not be gone forever. Your power could still return.”
It might, or it might not. Merecot wasn’t in the mood for Daleina’s unbridled optimism.Doesn’t she ever get tired of being perky and positive?
“But if it doesn’t... You could seek out a new path, one that has nothing to do with spirits at all. Your life isn’t over, which means you still have choices, whether you see them yet or not.”
Merecot grunted. It was as much of a reply as she could manage, and as much as that gooey mushiness deserved. She heard a shift of fabric behind her and knew that Daleina had stood up.
“Good luck, Merecot. You’ve been a terrible friend, but I am still glad I saved you.”
She didn’t know what to say to that either. She listened without turning around to Daleina’s footsteps as they receded, and the door opened and closed. Still looking out the window, she saw an ermine-shaped spirit with wings like a bat fly between the branches and then up into the blue sky above.
“Maybe someday I’ll be glad too,” Merecot said, though Daleina was already gone.
Daleina didn’t want a feast for her wedding—she did not want to waste even a bit of food that could be saved for her people. Though she had the spirits working hard to repair the orchards, nut trees, and berry bushes, the stores were still low, and the winter months would be lean for many across the land. So it seemed wrong to celebrate her and Hamon’s wedding with any kind of extravagant banquet.
She did, though, want music. And dancing.
It was Belsowik who spread the word, and when she woke on her wedding day, she heard music: singing from the treetops, drums and horns from the branches, and what sounded like a thousand bells.
