Chapter Fourteen

THE LIGHTS OF Endlyia flashed overhead. Streetlamps, headlights, flashing restaurant signs. Each passing flicker marking another moment of silence. Briar had nothing to say, nothing but grief and rage and terror filled her mind.

She’d lost. She’d lost more than she’d been willing to give. And now Lillia was beside her again, both her hands clutching the steering wheel, but it was just guilt and empathy that had brought her. Not love or forgiveness.

A quick sharp pain, like a pinprick to her brain, made her gasp, then an image of Nilaja floated into her mind and she knew they had sent it. A ringing phone. A bloody arm. They wanted to talk. Briar wasn’t interested in anything the Gods had to say.

She never wanted to see them again. The books on her shelves now seemed like kindling. She hated the Gods. They were not worthy of the humans. They did not deserve this world. They had ruined it and sent nothing but pain. Endless wars and skirmishes. Death and destruction.

All for Eliana. They called her their child but she wasn’t a child anymore. She hadn’t been for centuries.

And Cordelia had sacrificed her own child. She’d ended the bloodline of a good king to save humanity. The Gods had squandered her gift, letting Eliana live with them while she devised a new plan, ruined more lives. She’d killed two world leaders. How many others? The news was full of brawls and bar fights. Endless protests that barely made sense.

Her aunt.

Vestia’s legacy ended in suicide and there was no way to prove she hadn’t done it because she had. She’d dragged a knife across her wrists. How much fear she must have felt. How afraid. Briar had almost done it. Her hatred for Eliana settled deep inside her, a smoldering coal that would not stop burning until she was dead. Briar wanted more than banishment for her. She deserved worse. She couldn’t have a second chance.

Ahead of them, Soren pulled his car into the entrance of the parking garage outside Fauna’s building. The security guard peered inside the car and his face fell. Briar saw him say something and glance back at Lillia’s car. He nodded and waved them both in. He knew.

Soon everyone would know.

Lillia helped her inside and time moved strangely. The air seemed thick, every movement a struggle, then time passed quickly. Huge patches of it rushed by. Fauna in her arms. A shower. Food. A bed. Lillia was gone, a short goodbye.

Tears and tears, an endless river of them.

She barely remembered getting into bed when she woke up the next morning in Fauna’s guestroom. Someone else was awake, she could hear them moving around. She had on Fauna’s clothes and her knees ached when she moved. It would be a while before she went running again.

Soren was standing in the kitchen—just standing, his silver eyes faraway. Frost coated his eyelashes and a tiny pile of snow had formed at his feet. She cleared her throat and he blinked and the frost was gone. Glancing down the hallway, he motioned Briar to follow him and led her to the dining room.

He leaned against the window. The morning sun washed over his golden-brown skin and played with his raven hair. “She just went to sleep a few hours ago.”

“Did you sleep?”

“A bit.” His eyes were hardened steel, forged in flame. His mouth was a hard line slashed across his face. “I’ll do it. Use me.”

It took Briar a moment to understand. The world closed in on her and she clutched the back of a chair for support. But she nodded. “You’re my friend.” She sat, unsure if her legs would hold her much longer.

“And I love you so much.” He sat beside her, face drawn. “I’m glad I met you.”

“You shouldn’t be.” Briar traced his jaw with her finger. “If I have to do this, then it’s not to send her home. Spells were all invented at one point. I’ll invent another. I want to kill her—a true death. We can’t let her know. We don’t tell anyone.” Another secret for them to share. The worst one she would ever keep. She didn’t think she’d survive it, at least not any of the parts of her she cared about, but she couldn’t burden Soren with any of those terrible thoughts.

“We’ll need both books. We only have the Book of Bindings now, but you should look at everything. We only have one shot.”

One life. A final breath. “Estoria will give it to us.” She knew Lillia’s sister would do whatever she needed to in order to keep her out of it and Briar wanted to do the same. She’d already lost Vestia and soon Soren would follow. “I’m going to keep looking for another way. I don’t want to do this. I don’t know if I can.”

He turned in his seat and held both of her hands in his. “You have to. It has to end. Soon. I need this all to be over soon.”

But how would she look at him, at his perfect face, his gentle hands, and run him through with a knife? She wondered what it would feel like, to keep pressing, to feel it sink through flesh and muscle. Her stomach turned.

A sob escaped her and she lurched forward into Soren’s arms. “I can’t do this.”

Another pinprick in her brain. A gentle whisper. Wandering hands. A note. Crashing glass.

She swallowed hard, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to steady her breathing. It was all too much.

“Briar?” Soren was awkwardly stretched between the two chairs, but he held her face with one hand and tilted her chin up to look at him. “They’re calling you? Don’t do it. You don’t know them. You can’t trust them.”

“I know.” She shook her head, clearing the unwanted images from her mind. She was full of regret, a sea of it that threatened to pull her down into its depths. This day was supposed to be different—full of regret but the deed done. Some relief would have come with it.

She stood up, squeezed Soren’s shoulder, and went to the window. The sun was fully risen; a ray of it cut across the rug under her feet. Far below her, as always, the city continued to move.

But she could see a news van parked across the street. They were vultures. People barely paid attention to her anymore; she could walk the streets without much worry. She no longer made tabloid headlines monthly, she was calmer—a woman, not a girl. But now it was all coming back, the way they used to hide in bushes, waiting for her to make a mistake. She had been a toy to them, something shiny and bright to dangle for their readers.

Now, they would watch her with pity. If she tried to stop them it would just make it worse. Instead of pictures of her mourning it would be pictures of her screaming.

Her grandfather would be on the actual news. They’d talk about valuations and pull people in to speculate on what the outlook for the company was. There had been talk that he was soon to retire, spend his days at the estate. Instead, he was planning his daughter’s funeral.

She needed to call her father. She hadn’t checked her phone since yesterday. But what could she say? Would her mother fly in? She hoped she would. Better for her father to get lost in her chaos than drown in his own grief. Briar couldn’t do it; she couldn’t be strong for him right now. She was crumbling.

She pushed herself away from the window and turned back to Soren. “What do you think would have happened if we met under different circumstances?”

Soren laughed, so loud and sudden it made her jump. “You avoided me for years, Briar. This was the only way we were going to meet.”

“You should have been sniffing after Fauna.”

“I know,” he said and the earnestness in his voice clutched Briar’s heart.

She…hadn’t realized. And Fauna had avoided him because of her. His father was the Prime Minister, before that a prominent senator. Briar knew next to Soren she’d never be the main story and she had told Fauna to avoid him too. They’d leave parties when he arrived. It had been a game. She was a selfish hack. A fake. A fool.

“I wish…let’s keep Lillia out of it. She always deserved better than me.”

“You didn’t force her into this, you know? She chose to be here last night, she showed up because you needed her. You’ve got a long life to live, Briar. Whether it’s Lillia or someone else—shit, forget another person. You deserve to be happy. I know you’ll struggle…after, but I’m never going to be mad at you. I’m never going to blame you. And I hope you find a way to be happy. Like, really happy. I hope you become a world-famous author and the best professor the world’s ever seen. I hope your bookstore blows up and there’s one in every city.”

“That’s a lot of jobs.” She blinked back tears.

Soren laughed again. “Promise me you’ll live. I won’t get to, and I wanted to so badly. So promise you’ll do it.”

Her chest hurt, everything hurt. Each breath burned and her eyes stung with tears she refused to let fall. “Can we just focus on the spell, please? I can’t do this. I have to bury my aunt. I can’t think about burying you.” It hurt to breathe, to keep going.

“Yeah, of course. I just needed you to know.”

*

MAGIC THRUMMED THROUGH the air around her. Indigo and gold, swirling and twinkling in and out of existence. Briar held her hands over the paper and filled her lungs deeply. This was too much magic for the spell. For those seeking answers was scrawled across the top. She didn’t know what it meant. She barely cared.

She took in the smaller script written across the yellow paper and let the words slither through her mind, embedding themselves in there. The miracle of spells or the curse of the witch? Either way she could feel her connection to the universe, the way it wanted her to know this magic. She spoke the words aloud and the air slid and swooped around her. Everything went still and she could feel that connection, a phantom string stretching and snapping.

Silence.

The visions came again. This time fluttering hair. An outstretched hand. Falling leaves. A note. A drop of blood. A sense of urgency.

She snapped her mind shut the best she could, wondering if there was a spell to keep the Gods away. She couldn’t talk to Nilaja. She couldn’t face her own actions. She’d been terrified, out of her mind, and wild. And the outcome was nearly the same. Vestia dead. A funeral tomorrow.

But Eliana was still here. Still parading in the body of the Prime Minister. According to the news she was visiting Beisha. Memories of the week of news reports on another dead world leader fought their way into Briar’s mind. But Eliana said, with Jenia’s mouth, that it was a peace mission. A restoration of goodwill between both countries. A way to make amends.

The new president was a witch.

Was that her plan? Only witches?

Briar didn’t understand it. The Goddess had created witches but she’d created the fae too. She had petitioned the Gods for the magic of witches but it was her own magic she gave to Velorian. The witch’s magic called to the universe but the fae carried the magic of the Gods in their veins, and she had given it freely.

Was one man’s scorn enough to drive her mad for this long? People must have loved her. She’d been remembered as the Goddess of Witches, what little text remained called her beautiful and wild. Free. Always amongst them. A favorite of the Gods. How could adoration of the masses not make up for one man’s desire to protect his kingdom? Briar did not think she would ever come to understand Eliana.

Her magic glowed in her hands and she stared at it—a swirling golden orb. She was learning to control it. Now she just had to become its master, bid it to destroy its maker, and hope it would respond.

She flopped backward onto the pillows behind her. Her father had visited while she was at Fauna’s today. He’d been drinking, his eyes were bloodshot, and his lip was split. He’d shown Fauna pictures on his phone and asked her which dress her mother liked best. She’d broken down, tearing at her hair, and Keller had just stood there, silent and watching, a strange, sick look on his face.

The images kept replaying in her mind. Was there a spell that could help her? She didn’t have time for this grief and she had so much more coming. She would handle everything then, when it was over. She pulled her phone from her pocket and scrolled through her contacts. It rang in her ear.

There was a long silence even once it stopped ringing, before Lillia spoke. “How are you doing?”

“Really bad.”

“When my grams died I felt like I would never get out from under the grief, like it might consume me. I know it’s…well, it’s not really the same but I think the hurt probably is. I’ve been thinking of you.”

The words I miss you sat on her tongue. “You’re the only good in all of this.”

“You aren’t the bad person in this, Ry. Whatever happens. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.” No one had. No one needed to.

“Thanks for picking up.”

“Do you want me to come…to the funeral? They just announced it on the news. And your mom posted about it.”

Briar sucked in a breath. “You follow my mom online?”

Lillia laughed but quickly stifled it. “I’m taking that as a yes. Bye, Briar.” The phone went dead before she could respond.

Briar lay on the floor, watching the shadows lengthen on her ceiling. Henrik had been calling. Everyone had been calling. Numbers she didn’t know and names she hadn’t seen in years ran across the screen of her phone all day. She wanted to smash it beneath her heel. To scream until her throat was raw.

She jumped when someone knocked on her door but it was gentle and soft. Blue eyes stared back at her through the peephole and she opened the door to find Fauna, a handle of liquor wrapped in her arms.

“Want to drink to my mom?”

“Of course.” Briar pushed the door wide to let her inside and followed her to the kitchen where she pulled down shot glasses with naked ladies etched on them from above the stove. Fauna looked different than she had the last time Briar had seen her, a little more life in her eyes. She’d showered, she smelled like raspberries.

“Your mother is coming and so is my dad. They both called to let me know. There’s a narcissism diagnosis waiting out there for both of them.” She downed her drink without flinching and poured another.

Briar swallowed the urge to ask how she was doing, instead taking the shot her cousin held out. Someone else knocked on her door and Briar turned.

“Oh, I invited my brother.”

Briar rushed for the door and pulled Sparrow into her arms. He was taller than her now and even broader than she remembered. There was no model on his arm but Soren stood behind him in the hallway. “How are you holding up?” she asked, looping her arm through Sparrow’s.

“Well, I cried with Fauna for a few hours earlier and it’s fucking awful, really. But we’ll figure it out. We’ll survive.”

Her heart cracked. This was her fault, no matter what nice words Soren used. It had been her plan. She pushed down the guilt, putting it in the ever-growing box inside her where she was hiding everything she couldn’t face. It didn’t matter. She could not fix this with sorrow or remorse. That was the way of the universe, of magic—blood for blood.

Sparrow tightened his grip on her arm before she could round the corner to the kitchen. “Fauna told me…some of it. You should have called. I would have helped.”

“Oh.” Briar put her hand on his. “No, Sparrow, I’m glad you weren’t here. I was always glad you were away. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.”

There was another knock on her door and she looked around the corner at Fauna but she shrugged. “No idea.”

Thousands of possibilities flashed through her mind. Bastianna again. Eliana coming to finish the job, to steal their minds and their lives. The police. Her father. But it was Henrik standing on the other side, his tie loose around his neck. “Do you no longer answer your phone?”

“Fauna and Sparrow are here, Henrik,” she hissed, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind her.

“Yeah, because Eliana murdered their mother, right? Agatha is about to publish a piece in the Ourst Daily titled The Oddities of Jenia Alvier documenting all the changes since her election. There’s countless blogs about it. I came to beg you to stop acting like a free agent and ask for help. Please, Briar. You need help.”

“What do you want me to do? Go on TV and proclaim that the Prime Minister is a mind-controlling half-Goddess? She’ll kill me, Henrik. I don’t know why she hasn’t already. You need to stay out of it.”

“Absolutely not.” He glanced behind him toward the elevator. “You can’t even be serious about that. Jenia Alvier is the leader of the country. My country. This is everyone’s problem. I’m sure the family of President Coveriel would be interested in this. I’m sure the senators would be interested in this. Have you warned Evaria? Are you going to let—”

“I told her.” Briar’s jaw hurt from the force of her grinding teeth. “You’re asking me to put a target on my back but I’m the only one who can stop her. I live every moment wondering what she is going to do when she realizes that.”

“You’re the only one?” Henrik pushed his glasses up his nose, giving Briar an assessing stare. “I’ve always helped you follow your dreams but you’re still just an overly powerful rich girl. You haven’t given anyone else a chance to fix this.”

“Because then their blood will be on my hands! And—” She pressed her lips together at the sound of the door opening behind her.

“Henrik! We were celebrating my mother’s life. You should come in.” Fauna’s voice was full of false cheer and thick with alcohol.

“I’d love to.” Henrik smiled. “We’re all on the same side after all.”