“I don’t care if it’s one damn finger. We’re going to mend it.”
The wind whips at my hair as we step out of the palace and head to the Seer’s cottage. I stare down at the black-tipped fingers on my right hand and frown. I only have one recourse, visiting the Seer. Hector knows it. I know it, even if I wasn’t willing to admit it quite yet.
Irritation lashes through me as I yank my cloak closer, hating this ravishing winter. It whitens everything. Freezes everything. Reminds me I cannot leave to renew myself.
The Seer is wrong. There is no way out of here.
I stomp through the snow, leaving behind footprints. My mood doesn’t improve as we approach the Seer’s cottage, and Hector knocks on the door. She opens it on his second knock. Her welcoming smile is nearly my undoing. I don’t want her kindness right now.
She ushers me inside and to a chair. Hector doesn’t sit. He stands behind me and nods toward the Seer.
I hold out my hand. “Why is this happening to me?”
She tilts her head to the side and studies my black-tipped fingers for so long, I think she won’t speak. When she does, her words impale me. “Your Kyanite magic and Bloodstone magic are warring with each other. If you don’t renew your Kyanite magic soon, the black will spread.”
Of course, they are warring.
It’s destroying me.
I swallow through the knots in my throat. “And then?”
She raises her hands to her chest and takes a deep breath. “It will kill you, Sol.”
I don’t want to die. I have far too much to live for, to thrive for.
“No,” Hector says. “I cannot accept that answer.”
Sadness glistens in the Seer’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Hector. That is Sol’s truth. She needs to renew herself.”
“The pool of Zalhandara is a long way from here, and it’s winter.” I shove my defective hand into my cloak, hiding it. “How am I supposed to renew myself?”
The Seer shakes her head. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
As I rise to my feet, the Seer addresses Hector. “Mildred may have a tonic that can help delay the spread.”
The old woman again?
Olah is laughing at me. I know he is. Why else would this be happening?
The snow falls harder as we step outside and turn toward Mildred’s cottage. I have no other choice but to visit the Muchrah. I need something to delay this blackness. Otherwise…
My chest aches as I think of otherwise.
I glance up at Hector, taking in his hard jaw, his unflinching eyes—the fierce determination to mend me.
My shoes sink into the snow as we approach Mildred’s cottage, and Hector knocks. She opens the door a moment later and ushers us inside her cottage.
“What a privilege.” She smiles brightly.
Hector remains stiff near the door as I turn to Mildred. “I am looking for a tonic that will help me with this.” Sadness clutches at my chest as I reveal my black-tipped fingers.
Mildred’s eyes widen. “I have only seen this once before.” She tentatively brushes her hand against mine. “Rare. So rare.” She turns to her left. “Do you see this, Annaleigh?”
My heart thrashes as Mildred appears to be listening.
“Of course, you haven’t. You’re only a child.”
Empathy prods at my chest for Mildred’s loss, for the daughter she never got to watch grow up.
