Chapter Thirty-Four

Rebel stood there, stunned.

Sacrifice. She would have laughed bitterly if she weren’t so mystified. Of all the solutions she might have considered being able to break Anjeline’s binding, she’d never imagined her wish would be it. She didn’t fail to see the irony. Anjeline now had an answer to her freedom, but to obtain it, Rebel must sacrifice her own in return. Which could mean death. It was almost poetic. The double-edged sword on which she was destined to fall, no matter how she tried to reverse it.

“A wish can’t release her,” Jezreel said. “But a sacrificed one of life or death can.”

A shaky pulse ticked in Rebel’s chest with such force Anjeline must have heard it, but both her and Piran had turned silent. “But why this wish?” She squeezed the words out.

The magician said his words slowly as though talking to a child. “To free a spirit bound by a dark magic, there must be an equal balance. Nero gave up part of his soul in order to obtain enough power to capture the Wishmaker. There must be an equal sacrifice to undue it.” He gave Rebel a long look. “A sacrifice of something great.”

“Couldn’t it be something else than that?”

“If it were easy to offer, it would be meaningless. The most powerful magic comes from sacrifice. Because it is a choice. A gift given. A gift of life.”

Rebel felt the weight of her pendant against her heart, its metal warming with her rising pulse. She looked at Anjeline, hoping there had to be another solution. Every lock has a key. “If I…sacrificed my wish and released you, then with your magic back in your control…you could heal me. Couldn’t you?”

Anjeline’s eyes watered. “No.”

“As I said,” Jezreel continued, “sacrificing your wish would mean it could take away life. And the Jinn can’t make alive the dead, can you, Wishmaker?”

Again, Anjeline turned silent, her nervous energy thrumming off her in waves of heat. Rebel considered the ramifications of a life that could be erased with one wish. Her expectation for that healing was quite possibly the only thing keeping her breathing.

“Perhaps you should choose the lesser of the evils,” he added. “Find Nero.”

Rebel rounded on the magician. “And lead Anjeline back to him? You’re completely off your head.”

“Let’s just think about this,” Piran said. His wings spasmed in nervous jitters.

Warm fingertips brushed Rebel’s arm, because now it seemed Anjeline couldn’t bear to not touch. “Maybe,” she said, “Jezreel is right.”

Rebel shook her head. “No. I refuse the idea.” But a little jolt in her chest objected.

“I won’t let you sacrifice this for me. If you give up your wish, you could die with it,” Anjeline said. “I’ll take another decade in the vessel if it means finding some other way. Nero might be the only key.” At her insistent touch, a calming buzz emerged between them as if this wasn’t the worst thing in the world and they weren’t pitting themselves against the thing Rebel had strived to keep her from.

“There has to be another answer.” Rebel grasped her pendant in her bloody fingers. It had served as guidance to her before, or so she believed. It would guide her now.

Jezreel squinted, pointing to the pendant. “What do you have there?”

At the change of subject, Rebel stared right back. “What does it matter?” she asked, then felt the pendant warm. Her skin pricked where the necklace radiated heat in her palm.

“You feel that?” Anjeline sensed it, as well.

Rebel rubbed it between her fingers and the pendant pulsed.

The magician studied it, clenching his jaw slightly. “That’s not yours. It’s a hidden Talisman. See the symbol.” As he pointed a finger at the pendant, its engraved rose shimmered, sending out pulsating waves in reply. “It’s marked by a magician. A beautiful one. One that seems to have been protecting you, child.” He said it so quickly she barely had time to see how close he was to her.

“Magician?” Rebel inched back. “No. It’s…my mother’s.”

“But that’s not why it works.” He chuckled. “It works because of you.”

“Sir?” Piran spoke. “How exactly did you get rid of your guards?”

The magician’s gaze never left Rebel, and his face seemed less old, less kind now. “I’ve allowed you to come this far because I needed to make sure. I’ve seen your eyes before in another person.” He cupped her cheek. “Your mother’s little starbright.”

Rebel jerked away from him. “How do you know that?”

Something began tapping at the windows.

“Rebel…” Anjeline tugged at her hand.

“How?” she demanded. “How do you know my mother?”

“Because, dear.” The magician smiled. “I’m your father.”

His body blurred. He raised his hand to his face and pushed, shaping it like molding clay. White tufts of hair tinted jet-black and a widow’s peak keened to a knifepoint mirrored Rebel’s own. What stood before them was a roguish man, his mouth a harsh slash in an imperious face, and eyes as dark as an empty soul.

Anjeline stiffened like a trapped animal.

“Nero.” She gasped.