Page 103 of Arcane Entanglement
The blood drained from William’s face.
“Who’s Rosa?” Evander asked softly.
Tears bloomed in Martha’s eyes.
“She was my daughter,” she choked out when she could speak.
William wiped the wet trails coursing down his cheeks with a jerky movement.
“Rosa was my baby sister,” he croaked, his voice thick with sorrow. “She died from scarlet fever when she was two.”
“Does the key mean anything to you?” Rufus said tensely.
William shook his head.
“No,” Martha mumbled.
Evander’s gut knotted. They’d banked on the Millbrooks telling them what the key was for.
A strange expression dawned on Viggo’s face. His tone when he spoke carried a hint of hope.
“Where is Rosa buried?”
Confusion wrinkled William’s brow. “In the woods, not far from here.”
Evander’s pulse spiked.
“This cottage belonged to my family,” Martha explained at their stares. “We often come here during autumn and winter.”
“Can you take us to Rosa’s grave?” Evander asked William.
Unease coiledthrough Viggo as they followed Millbrook’s son out of the cottage and into the woods. He could tell Evander was avoiding looking at him.
He moved closer to the mage while William led them along a barely visible path.
“What’s wrong?”
Evander glanced at him, his expression brittle. “Nothing’s wrong.”
Viggo frowned. “You’re lying.”
Evander closed his eyes briefly and shuddered.
“If you really want to know, I—kind of hate myself right now.”
Surprise jolted Viggo. “Whatever for?”
A muscle jumped in Evander’s jawline.
“Because I was born with magic,” he said bitterly. “The same magic that runs through the veins of the devils who killed your family and destroyed your village.”
Viggo’s throat tightened at the remorse thickening his voice. His hand brushed the back of Evander’s.
“It’s not your fault. You were only what, three at the time?”
Evander shook his head. “I was two years old.”
Viggo hooked their little fingers together for a moment.
