CERIDWEN CROSSES HERlegs where she sits next to the coil of tubes in my room, the barest waves of heat licking off into her skin. Being in a room full of Winterians was “like being dunked into a bucket of ice water,” she’d said, and after so long watching me pace back and forth and spewing nonsensical explanations, I figure she needs some comfort.
“So wait.” She bobs her finger through the air as if pointing at all the information I laid bare. “When your mother’s locket broke, you became the conduit. I understand that, I think. But these keys we’ve been finding arealsoconduits? And they’re interfering with your magic somehow?”
“Not interfering.” I lean against one of the posts that holds the canopy over my bed. “More like interacting. The Order made them as tests to help the finder with . . . something. My heart has to be ready, but I can’t figure out whatthe things I saw are supposed to make me ready to do. Or what any of it has to do with the magic chasm.”
“Are you sure the keys were made by the Order?” Conall now, cradling the splint that cups his injured arm. “You said Angra might be Spring’s conduit, as you are Winter’s. What if all this is him? He was in the first visions you saw. This could be a trick.”
“There’s been no word of him anywhere, though,” Henn counters.
Garrigan shrugs, his shoulders grinding against the chair he squeezed into alongside Nessa. “Ithasbeen more than three months since his fall. If he’s alive, why wait so long? It doesn’t make sense. It has to be the Order. Besides, the chasm entrance was hidden until a few weeks ago. How could Angra have set all this up without our knowledge?”
“He did have free rein of your kingdom for sixteen years,” Ceridwen says.
Dendera shakes her head. “He didn’t touch the mines. When we reopened them, they had clearly been unused for more than a decade—filthy and dangerous and unstable. I don’t think this is him.”
I fiddle with my locket as they toss ideas back and forth. They’ve all handled this so much better than I could have hoped, taking in everything I know about Angra and magic and the chasm and Cordell with curious gazes and patient nods.
Well, almost everything.
I only told them I saw Hannah and Duncan in my last dream. I didn’t tell them what Hannah said would happen if I die.
A shudder jerks my hand off my locket and I cross my arms to hide the tremor. I’ll find another way to make my people strong. This world doesn’t need an entire kingdom of conduit-people—I love Winter, but that’s too much power for anyone.
What Hannah said doesn’t matter. I don’t have to die for this. Iwon’t.
Henn scratches his chin, pacing in front of where Dendera sits on a bench against the wall. “I agree. I think these keys are our best chance at getting any answers. Once we have the last key, we’ll have more leverage over Cordell to keep the chasm shut.”
“Will that be enough?” Conall leans forward, wincing as he puts pressure on his injured arm. “Noam could forcibly take the keys from us. How will Winter having the keys stop him?”
“We could get the first key from the prince,” Garrigan offers. “Open the chasm. Retrieve enough magic to—”
“No,” I say. “We’ll continue to Ventralli, but we aren’t opening that door. It isn’t a risk we will take—there are other ways to unseat Noam. I can try to gain Giselle’s support, or Ventralli.”
My words seem weak now, and when Ceridwen shifts forward, I feel my fragile surety break even more.
“Hate to rain fire on your ice, but Yakim won’t fight off another Rhythm for you. I’ve been begging Giselle for years to support Summer—to sell us food or supplies instead of people. She refuses.”
“What if I prove useful to her? I’ll give her whatever she wants. Snow, I’ll give her as many mines as she demands.”
“And what happens once she finds out that Cordell already has the magic chasm? She’ll feel tricked, and you’ll have two Rhythms mad at you.”
I groan, pushing out my frustration. I hadn’t had much hope for Yakim after my conversation with Giselle, anyway. “What about Ventralli?”
Ceridwen laughs. “You know who Noam’s wife was, right? She may have died under Noam’s care, but flame and heat, if the Ventrallans don’t love Theron. Ventralli would no sooner go to war against Cordell than Simon would renounce wine.”
“Both Yakim and Ventralli offered to host Winter, though.” I squint even as I talk, recognition flaring back up through me. I realized the folly in our trip before, and now it makes every muscle in my body go slack so I drop onto the bed.
“I responded to their invitations.” I rub my temples, eyes shut. “They invited me as a ploy to test Cordell’s hold on Winter. Cordell responded with a treaty of unification, and I responded bybringing Cordell with me. Whatever door they might have opened . . . I not only slammed it shut, I builta damned Cordellan barrier over it. And now Winter’s only ally is . . .” My eyes go to Ceridwen and she splays her hands.
“Hey, put me in a room with Noam and I’ll end your problem real quick.”
I snort. “Tempting. But that would cause even more problems.”
Dendera stands. “What is our plan, then?”
I look at her, my mind swirling through everything.
No help from Yakim. No help from Ventralli. Paisly is too far removed to offer assistance. I have thin support in Summer, and an even shakier alliance with Autumn—but I don’t think Nikoletta would rise against her brother, no matter how much of an ass he is. Unless he were to seize Autumn outright, but I can’t believe he’d be that stupid.
