74. Rosalina
Rosalina
Ibriar into Castletree and straight into chaos.
The dining hall is a blur of movement and magic, chairs overturned, plates shattered, walls riddled with flame. A table flips and crashes inches from my feet as I duck.
Heidigog and Kairyn are attacking.
Their eyes are pitch-black, soulless voids that don’t blink, don’t waver. They snarl like beasts, lunging at Ezryn with unnatural strength. He throws up a shimmering wall of wind to block a chair thrown at him.
“What’s going on?” I scream.
Justus grapples with Kairyn near the hearth while Farron tries to catch Heidigog, who scrambles away from him.
“Careful,” Caspian says. “They’re not themselves.”
Dayton holds a silver platter as a shield to block a butter knife Heidi throws at my father. Kel responds by shooting a sheet of ice beneath Heidi’s feet, sending her skittering.
Caspian is right. They’re not themselves.
My mother steps forward, spreading her arms at her sides. “I have had enough of this.”
Her eyes glow gold, brighter than I’ve ever seen, and magic coils around her like a storm about to break. She lifts both hands and slams them to the ground.
The air shudders.
From the cracks in the stone floor, golden briars explode upward, thick and gleaming like sunlight.
They twist and weave with terrifying precision, slamming into Heidigog and Kairyn and yanking them backward.
The vines wind around their limbs, pinning them in place midair, then snap into a cage, sealing them inside.
The cage crashes to the ground. They thrash. Snarl. But they’re trapped. Their black eyes lock on me. There’s no recognition there.
“What happened?” I ask, breathless.
Ezryn’s jaw is clenched tight, his arm still raised defensively. “They…turned. Suddenly, with no reason.”
“One second, we were all chatting,” Farron adds, his voice shaken. “The next, they decided we would be better off dead.”
“Something is wrong,” Caspian says.
Inside the golden briars, Heidigog and Kairyn don’t blink. Don’t speak. They pace, eyes still black, shoulders tense, fingers twitching like they’re waiting for someone to give a command.
“It’s like they’re being controlled…” I whisper. My chest tightens. “The rose.”
“No,” Marigold says, charging toward me. “The vault was locked tight. I checked it myself this morning.”
But I’m already moving.
My feet thunder down the hall. The others trail me. I don’t speak. I can’t. My heart’s beating too fast, dread curling in my gut like smoke.
I go down the steps into the very depths of Castletree, to a place I hardly go. The air becomes colder. Through the cellar, past the secret door. A vault door looms ahead. I throw it open with a burst of briars.
Inside, the rose sits where it always has in its bell jar.
I let out a sigh of relief. Sira doesn’t have the rose. But what else could control both Kairyn and Heidi, two of Sira’s creations?
I slow, my fingers reaching toward the glass.
I lift the lid.
My hand brushes the stem. Inky and cold…the feeling is…familiar.
The rose flickers, then dissolves into a pool of shadows.
Just like the food Sira tried to serve me in the tower. Like how Caspian changed Heidi’s form.
“Shadows,” I breathe. “An illusion.”
Kel steps up beside me. “If we have the fake…”
“That means Sira—” Ezryn starts.
A voice whispers through the hall, slipping into my ears like poison laced with honey.
We all spin, running for the entrance.
The great doors to Castletree groan open, just a few inches, and shadows pour in, coiling about my limbs, dragging warmth from my skin.
“Rosalina, step back!” Caspian screams.
But it’s too late.
She’s here.
Sira.
She emerges from the shadows, cloak billowing, a wicked smile on her lips. Her arms snake around me, and the cold kiss of a blade presses against my neck.
“Oh,” she purrs, voice mocking, “is something wrong with your little rose?”