And now Summersend carries a new kind of weight. The next full moon is the week after the bonfire.
“Do you have a white dress?” Clover asks me. I nod and she smiles, pleased. “I’ll help you with the embroidery. And we can make wreaths!”
“We are not going,” Rowan says.
“Youhave to go, since you’re the lord. And it will be nice for all of us to do something fun.” She twists the teapot back andforth to stir the leaves. Steam drifts from the spout. “Violeta, we can take this up to Arien now.”
She sets the pot onto the tray beside the cup, while I fetch the jar of honey and a small wooden spoon. I follow her out of the room with everything balanced carefully. Rowan stays behind in the kitchen, but as I leave, he calls quietly after me. “Please, Leta, just… think on it, before you do anything else.”
I close the door between us without replying. As Clover and I walk up the stairs, she arches a brow and looks meaningfully back toward the kitchen. “Didn’t touch the fire, hm?”
I let out a breath, grateful for the cool air in the hallway, how it washes over me in place of the kitchen stove heat. “It’s… complicated.”
She snorts back a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure it is.”
I want so much to join in her good-natured teasing, but the mark on my palm has begun to ache. My whole hand feels painfully numb, like frost has been stitched beneath my skin. It’s an unavoidable reminder of what I’ve done, what I’m going to do.
Arien’s room is filled with early sunlight, the window open to a stretch of cloudless sky. He’s curled on his side, still half-asleep. Florence sits beside the bed, a spill of whitework embroidery on her lap. They both look up at us as we enter.
I wish I could preserve this moment, just stand here in the sunlit room and hold all my secrets close. I take a deep breath, searching for the right words to tell them everything. “I need to talk to you about the next ritual.”
Arien sits up delicately, mindful of his arms, and reachesfor the tray with his bandaged hands. The confusion in his eyes shifts to wariness as he takes in my expression. “Leta, what’s wrong?”
I lower myself onto the edge of the bed, careful not to tip the tray. “First, I have to explain what really happened in the Vair Woods.”
He lifts the pot and pours tea into his cup. “You already told me about that.”
“Not the whole truth. I did give up my magic. But it wasn’t for myself, Arien. It was for you.”
He clenches the honey jar in his hands, the motion so similar to the one he’s made, repeatedly, during practice for the ritual. He puts it down, unopened. “You gave the Lord Under your magic to save me?”
I nod. “That’s why your magic has changed. He told me it always leaves a mark, when he helps anyone. And that’s why…” I swallow, steadying myself, then go on. “That’s why you were hurt at the ritual. I asked him to save you then, too.”
“Youaskedhim?” Florence cuts in. She draws her fingers across her chest, her eyes widening. “Violeta, don’t you realize how dangerous that was?”
“What else was she supposed to do, let Arien be eaten by those creatures?” Clover pulls restlessly at her braid, looking queasy. “No wonder your wounds were so hard to mend.”
“Because I was hurt by the same magic that made the Corruption.” Arien stares down at his hands, at the blackened tips of his fingers that show past the bandages. Then he turns back to me, his brow creased into a frown. “Why didn’t you tellme sooner? And what does all this have to do with the next ritual?”
I hold out my hand and show him the new scar.
“Leta.” Arien pales. “Leta, you didn’t—”
“The Lord Under has offered me the power to mend the Corruption. Alone, on the next full moon.”
“But only the dead can see him.” He turns rapidly to Florence, then Clover, for confirmation. They both look as confused and shocked as Arien does. “You can speak to him, even now?”
“Notrightnow.” I try to laugh, but his stricken expression silences me. “I summoned him, Arien. I cut my hand and gave him my blood, and I summoned him.”
“Why would you do such a terrible thing?”
“Because I don’t want you to be hurt ever again! Because the Corruption will destroy Rowan—and everything else, too—if we don’t mend it!”
“So, it’s better that you’ve done this?” He shoves the tray onto the bedside table. Tea splashes out of the cup, and the wooden honey spoon falls to the floor. “You didn’t think to tell any of us about this connection before you called on him? You’ve seen what he can do.” He thrusts his hands toward me angrily, showing me the bandages and his blackened fingers. “But you still went to him for help.”
“I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you, I just—”
“You just wanted to do everything on your own, the way you always do.” He draws up his knees and turns his eyes to the window. “Get out of my room, Leta.”
