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Alaric nodded once and began digging again, layering the dirt on top of her body. I forced myself to watch as, one grain of dirt at a time, the earth swallowed up my grandmother forever.

Twenty

THE WOLF

Icould sense Cerise’s quiet grief the entire time we were at the cottage. She remained stoic and fierce, despite the dried tears still staining her cheeks. But the pain radiating from her was so dense I could almost taste it.

When I had finished burying the old witch, Cerise handed me a folded piece of parchment. “I found this in Gran’s room.”

Brow furrowing, I unfolded the letter and quickly read through the contents. I sucked in a sharp breath.

It was a letter from the Mage she’d been working with. It had to be. I squinted, trying to see if I recognized the handwriting. But it was unfamiliar to me.

“Does the name Sparrow mean anything to you?” Cerise asked.

I shook my head. “It must be a code name.”

“I figured as much. Heron would certainly be Gran’s idea. She was obsessed with those birds.” Bitterness laced her tone. “Do you think we can find any clues in that letter?”

I read through it one more time. “Perhaps. Maybe we can find this contact that’s mentioned here. It sounds like they supplied the poison for King Nolan’s death.”

Cerise nodded, her gaze distant. Then she asked, “Can a Rogue shift to his human form?”

I frowned at the abruptness of her question. “Not usually. The dissonance between souls often doesn’t allow for the shift.”

“But it’s not impossible?”

“Some Rogues have been able to manage it. Why do you ask?”

“Someone stole the vials of tonic from Gran’s room. And I imagine a wolf wouldn’t be able to carry those small glass jars in his paws.”

My frown deepened. “No, he wouldn’t.” I recalled my conversation with Reid when we’d been tracking the Rogue. A human creature is magically tethered to the wolf, Reid had said. And I do not scent Wolven Magic on them.

It had been like no Rogue we’d encountered before. Something else entirely.

Which meant either the white wolf had been able to shift to his human counterpart… or there was a human out there we still needed to find.

“Can you show me?” I asked Cerise.

She led me through the house and into her grandmother’s room. I took in the torn mattress, broken bed frame, and shards of glass on the floor. My eyes lingered on the shattered window. Splintered wood surrounded the window frame.

The sharp garlic scent was strong in this room. It certainly belonged to the white wolf.

“I think the Rogue did come back.” I pointed to the window. “Through there.”

Cerise followed my gaze. “All right… but what about the tonic?” She gestured to the floor. “There were at least four vials here when I left. Maybe more.”

I knelt to the floor and sniffed deeply. Several distinct scents filled my nose at once. Lavender. Something softer, like cedar perhaps? And then another pungent scent, like peppermint. It stirred something distant in my memory. Why did I feel like I’d smelled this before?

But one thing was certain: I didn’t smell the Rogue. Not here, where the vials had been.

I straightened and faced Cerise, who was wringing her hands together, her gaze flitting wildly about the room, as if she were trying to avoid looking at anything for too long. “What can you tell me about this tonic you take?”

“It has several ingredients,” she said, as if reciting from a textbook. “Mostly, it’s to suppress my magic, which can be volatile. As you well remember.” Her face flushed, but she pressed onward. “There’s sapphire basil, to help with the visions and nightmares.” Her face paled slightly, but she went on, “The white ash is the numbing agent, meant to make parts of my magic more dormant. And then lavender and sweetroot leaves to combat the painful side effects.”

I frowned. “Visions? What visions?”

Her flush deepened. “I just get… visions every now and then, of me alone in the forest at night, covered in blood. They started off as just nightmares, but lately they’ve been happening during the day as well.”