Page 47

Kill me.

“How many people can read ancient Annatalian?” There had to be a lot of Masters who could.

“Strange thing about your uncle. Twelve years ago he found all these ancient books hidden away in a small southern library. And not long after, Masters of ancient Annatalian and their apprentices started having a lot of accidents.”

He had them killed to hoard the knowledge?

“My uncle was taught ancient Annatalian, as all royals are. They will suspect that I know how to read it.”

“I’ve told them that you were too young to start those lessons.” So that was the lie he told Bronwen and the Seer.

I let the words sink in. “So the book is safest in your hands?” I used to believe it would be, but now I wasn’t sure. The Ruckus wanted the Phoenixes gone for good. But I didn’t. That wouldn’t bring Lex back, and the only way I could save his mind was to break the curse in the next eight days. I would let them mistake my silence for obedience until I no longer needed any of them.

Aster brushed his finger along my jaw until he reached my chin and then pressed so that our eyes had to meet. “This isn’t only about home; this is also about you.” His gaze settled on my lips, and his mouth parted ever so slightly. “That’s why I’ll take you, hide you as I always have, but then…”

He’ll leave.

Or I’ll leave.

Parting, as we always did.

The horse stamped again, breaking the moment. Aster stepped back and checked the saddle one last time. “Can you get up on your own?”

“Yes.” But I was still reeling from the ‘but then…’ It was as if my insides were already preparing… as if he were already gone.

He said nothing as he watched me try to haul myself onto the horse. It took me two tries, mostly because the horse was too tall and my body was still sore in places I resented. Aster pretended not to notice. That was almost gentlemanly of him. Once I was up, I gathered the reins and glared down as he secured the packs.

“You’re walking?”

“Until we’re out of the village.”

“Why? That’s ridiculous.”

“So is arguing in the dark when we should’ve already gone.”

I opened my mouth, then shut it again when he gave me a look. Maybe he wanted distance between us for a bit longer.

We moved off through the sleeping village, the horse’s hooves muffled by snow and Aster leading at the bridle. At the last cottage he stopped by what appeared to be an ordinary standing stone, half-buried in frost. Ordinary, if ordinary stones were carved top to bottom in old sigils that made the air thrum when you looked at them too long.

He pressed his palm to it, and green light slid through the grooves. Then the ward line lifted just enough to let us pass. My skin prickled, then stung all over. The horse tossed its head and whinnied, but went where Aster guided it. One step, two, and then the pressure eased behind us.

“We’re free,” I murmured.

“For now.”

I twisted to see behind me. The village had already started to disappear. More clever old Earthworld magic.

21

Beyond the village, the land rose steadily toward the sacred mountain. Black against a starless sky that glittered with YuleMots. Snow lay thick between the pines, but the track was there if you knew how to read it. An indent where others had once passed, narrow and twisting and increasingly steep.

Aster vaulted up behind me in one clean movement.

The shock of his body settling close at my back, his thighs pressed into mine, made every muscle in me lock.

“There’s room in front,” I said through my teeth. Snowflakes rested on the horse’s black mane as he crunched through the snow.

“You’d freeze.” Aster’s arm came around me for the reins, heat seeping through wool and fur and all the layers I had wrapped around myself.