Chapter Thirty-Two Vina #2
“And Matthias?” Vina asked. “Does he… feel like you do?”
A shadow passed over Edmund’s face.
“Matthias has got a good heart, you know that,” said Edmund. “And he knows that. But sometimes, blokes like him, they can’t face it when they’ve done evil. They have to convince themselves they did what was right. He’s at the Queen’s right hand, and I’m here. That’s how it is.”
Vina ignored the twist of her heart at that. Matthias had always been the best of them—the kind one, the peacemaker, the friend to everyone. But time changed all people.
“If you want to help me, there’s something I need to do,” said Vina.
“But I don’t think you’re going to want to.
I need to destroy the archives. I wouldn’t ask for myself alone.
But for all the other incarnates who’re trapped—for Simran too—I’m asking you, Edmund.
If you’ve worked in the Tower, served in it—if you’re still trusted—can you get me in? Can you help me burn it all down?”
Edmund stared at her. And stared.
“And that’ll… help you?” he asked finally.
“It will free me,” Vina said. “It’s how the Queen controls all tales. In truth, I believe it will save the Isle.”
Edmund nodded, jaw tightening.
“Fuck it,” he said. “If that’s what you need, I’ll help. Vina, the truth is—hell, the truth is, I’ve regretted what I did to you all my fucking life.”
“It’s fine, Eddie,” she said. “I forgive you.”
“Just like that?”
“Yeah,” she said. Her heart ached. “Just like that.”
He took a cautious step closer to her. They looked at each other, unsure what to do.
“Eddie,” she said. “Just one last thing.”
“What?”
“How’s your sister doing?”
He punched her in her arm. She deserved it.
“The witch is still tied up,” Galath said. Vina startled. She’d almost forgotten he was there. He was eyeing Sarah coolly, and she in return had gone silent, a hunted look in her eyes. “What do you want to do with her, Vina?”
“Nothing,” Vina said hurriedly. She went over to Sarah, removing the gag. “I’m sorry,” Vina said, carefully removing the ropes. “Please don’t try and curse us.”
“I wouldn’t curse you in another witch’s home,” said Sarah, voice hoarse. “I can feel his magic all around us.”
“You looked for me?”
“The fae aren’t happy they can’t find you,” Sarah said tightly. “I didn’t want to look for you. But they insisted, and I need their protection.”
“They don’t have any claim on me any longer. Liege Alder wanted my death, and they’re gone. It’s done. No matter what the rest of the court believe.” The last rope spooled on the ground. “Besides, I have the protection of some powerful people,” Vina said wryly. “I’d leave me be, if I were them.”
“If you can kill fae, perhaps you’re worth more than I thought,” said Sarah.
Vina carefully did not look at Galath.
“I’m still offering an alternative to the fae,” said Vina. “Another way you can have the power to protect yourself. We end the grip of the archives, and the Isle will change in ways you can’t imagine.”
“I can see how that benefits you,” said Sarah, but there was hesitation in her voice. “Not us. Not my coven.”
“The Isle will be free,” said Vina. “Whatever that may mean. You’ve already seen that what it means to be a witch has changed, since the Eternal Prince’s rise.
Think of it—more Elsewhere witches, like Tam.
Safety in numbers. A chance for an Isle that doesn’t force you to such cruel choices. Just… consider it.”
Sarah pursed her lips. She looked over at Edmund.
“I’m not sure I want to work with this one,” she said, gesturing at him rudely.
“It wasn’t personal,” he said gruffly.
“Well, when I hex your bollocks with pustules, it won’t be personal either.”
Hari was at the bottom of the stairs, surrounded by Sarah’s coven. He didn’t look frightened, so Vina forced herself to walk down with measured, casual footsteps.
“I’ll calm down when I see her,” Tam was saying, heated. “You can’t keep her from us. We can feel her in there, don’t lie to us.”
“She broke into my home,” said Hari. “I’d be well within my rights to harm her—but to be clear, I haven’t. I don’t know what she’s doing here, any more than you do.”
“Tam,” said Sarah from behind Vina. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
Relief washed over Tam’s face. Sarah muscled past Vina to clap a hand on his shoulder.
Whatever Sarah had been to her and the others in the primordial forest—a jailer, a would-be murderer—she was loved here. She’d made a family out of her fellow witches.
“Tam,” Sarah said. “I’ve decided. I agree with the rest of you. Majority wins. We’ll help these idiots burn the archives.” She lowered her voice. “Spirits help us.”
The coven burst into conversation. Hari looked over at Vina with confusion, elation. How did you do it? he mouthed.
Vina shook her head helplessly, smiling. She moved to speak—then paused.
Something was calling to her. A twisting in her heart. It felt like the urging of her tale.
It felt like her witch.
Her heart was a compass, and it knew where it wanted to lead her.
“Vina,” said Galath. His low voice cut through the voices around them, quelling them to silence. There was concern in his eyes. “What is it?”
“Simran,” she whispered. “I can feel her. I need to go to her.”
Hari strode over to her, looking her over as intently as Galath had.
“Are you sure?” Hari asked. “Is it—safe? Think of what happened last time.”
“Papa,” she said. Winced, internally, still torn—her two lives like a cracked mirror, reflecting a dozen faces back at her, all her own and none at all. “Hari. I know you worry. But you have to let me go. You have to trust me.”
Hari met her eyes, then exhaled a shaky breath. “That’s what Sim said to me,” he said. “And I haven’t seen her in two decades.”
“Then let me bring her back,” said Vina. She’d go whether he let her or not, and they both knew it. But she waited anyway. “Please,” she said.
Hari rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Go,” he said. “And come back safe. Or at least with all your limbs. We’ll be waiting for you.”