Chapter 29
I sag in the curse’s hold, sobbing so hard my body shakes. I choke on breath, the grief I’ve buried surfacing like a tsunami that sweeps over my soul. I’ll never stop missing Viola. I’ll never heal from the grief that aches me. It’s like a part of me is missing, one that can never come back.
Lips brush against my ear. “Are you sure you wish to dispel me?”
My throat is too tight to respond, my body too weak to stand.
“You could pay your soul price and complete me instead. This form you see is still in your father’s home.
Once I devour your soul, I’ll be powerful enough to break free of this collar.
I could make horrors, the likes of which this world has never seen, fall upon those within its walls, starting with Atticus.
And once I’m done stripping the flesh from his bones one ribbon at a time, I’ll devour the Order, crack it open and suck the magic dry like marrow from a bone.
I’ll feast upon your enemies, and when they are seconds from death, I’ll whisper, ‘This is for Viola,’ so that they know you were there for the woman at the end.
You’d kill them all like she prophesized.
Your name will be carved in the stone of history as the eternal vengeance of all scorned women. A goddess in memory.”
The creature turns me and, instead of Alasdair’s withered body, I look up at Viola.
The breath rushes from me, my hands trembling.
My aunt’s eyes are black, her skin white, and veins swollen and black.
She smiles too wide and her voice clenches a deep ache in my soul.
“Finish what you started, my little love. Release me and it can all be ours.”
I swallow rhythmically. My aunt strokes me with black-stained fingers. It’s tempting. It’s all too tempting.
My gaze falls upon my brother, still frozen in time. My breath shivers and my words burn me. “I’ve done enough.” My eyes squeeze shut for a moment before I turn to the curse wearing my aunt’s skin. “How do I dispel you? I command you, creation. Tell me.”
The silence stretches. I blink and the creature is back in Alasdair’s ruined body. His arms release me and I slam into the ground, knocking the air out of me. I wheeze and roll on my side, coughing harshly.
All the tempting coyness leaves the curse’s voice. “Fine. Have it your way.” He circles me, his footsteps silent. “There’s only one way to stop my infection. I’m too alive to simply dispel me. I must be cut loose from the curse’s limitations. Only then will my infection stop.”
My brows furrow. “That’s unusual.” And suspicious.
He waves a distracted hand. “I’m an unusual thing. I’m nearly a creature and no longer formless magic. I’m too strong for anything else to work.”
“And what will happen to you once you’re ‘cut loose’?”
“That’s the price. I’ll be a new thing. A living, free thing.
A new magical creature to walk this world.
But for that, I’ll need a body.” The smile that spreads sends a cold shiver down my spine.
“If you want me to stop infecting, and thus save that weaver you love so much, then we’ll break the contract.
The resulting magic will reverse all the damage I’ve done, with the exception of Alasdair.
He is too far gone to return to what he was, but what remains of his soul will be able to rejoin the Tapestry.
Your father will flourish. He will choose another Heir and rule another century before quietly retiring to be revered as an ancient one, more god than mortal. ”
My hands curl into fists on the white ground. My teeth grind in my fury. My father doesn’t deserve such honor. He’s a monster.
The creature crouches next to me and whispers, “But for you, there is no escaping what is owed. Once cut free, I’ll devour your soul, bind with your black flame, and use your Creation magic to become flesh.
That is your price. I will devour you, one way or the other.
Either die in the glory of their destruction by completing the contract or die and allow them to flourish by excising the infection.
” His teeth are sharp. “Either way, I get a body—Alasdair’s or a new one—and your soul to eat. ”
I drag myself to standing, rage flooding my system. “That’s not fair.”
“All magic comes with a cost. You owe a debt, Astoria, and I’ve come to collect. So, what will it be? Feed me your soul to complete the curse, or feed me your soul to save them all?” His black eyes glint. “Revenge or failure?”
That last word prickles over my skin and my lip curls in a snarl.
Anger thrums within me like a living thing and I glare at the creature before me.
We stand eye to eye, the withered husk of my brother smirking darkly at me.
No matter what, the curse will get what it wants.
I couldn’t fight it dragging me down to this place.
I can’t reach my magic. I can’t call Jinx.
There’s nothing left but a self-sacrificing end to the creature.
Saliva drips from that cruel smile. My skin crawls and my arms wrap around myself. I don’t have long before it makes this decision for me. The only power I have left is my choice in the outcome.
If I don’t stop my curse, Valen will die.
It’ll consume him, but I’m not a fool. The curse is overpowered from me giving it sips from the replenishing well of my soul instead of allowing it to devour it all at once.
It’ll move on once it finishes with the Order and keep eating until nothing is left.
I’ll release a plague upon this world. Lucas will be consumed. Jinx will fall.
My gaze strays to young Alasdair. My heart stutters and my arms tighten around myself. That unfamiliar feeling is in my gut again and two words slip free into the space between us. “I’m sorry.”
The words echo within the arid whiteness of my prison.
My heart aches, the heaviness that has lived within me for seven years bearing down.
I gaze into his green eyes that mirror mine and whisper, “I should’ve left you out of it.
I could’ve waited. I could’ve faked being loyal and then attacked Dad when he least expected it.
But that would’ve taken years and I didn’t have the patience. ”
A tear rolls down my cheek. “That wasn’t fair to you. You didn’t ask for this. You would’ve congratulated me if I’d been chosen. You would’ve stepped aside. You were a pawn that I tore into without mercy.” I gasp, my voice breaking as I beg. “Forgive me, Ali, though I don’t deserve it.”
The statue of Alasdair doesn’t move, but he doesn’t need to.
My heart clenches with each of my trembling breaths.
I embrace this agony, this pain, as the cleansing rain of my steadily falling tears drenches my face, tickles down my neck, and drips from my chin.
If he were alive, he would’ve hugged me.
He’d always tried, and I always pushed him away with a vicious hiss.
I loathed the feeling it provoked within me and now I’d do anything to feel his embrace again.
Because Alasdair had once loved me. Really, really loved me.
And he never stopped hoping that eventually I’d love him, too.
But I did love him. My brother. The other half of my coin.
I turn to the creature. “I’ll feed you my soul to reverse the damage, but I want to add a term.
I’ll give you my body as your own, if you save Lucas and Valen.
Let them out of the vault. Don’t kill them.
Don’t kill Jinx. Let the three of them go in peace.
Let Alasdair rest in peace. Do not let the agony of his torment linger within his soul.
” My throat tightens. “Those are my terms.” My hand stretches. “Do you agree?”
The curse’s eyes flare and excitement vibrates within its withered body.
A skeletal hand reaches out and tightens around mine.
His magic lifts to seal it, his teeth turning into a nightmare row of fangs.
I choke on a sob. There’s no way he’s going to end me quickly.
He’s going to consume me slowly in the most horrific way possible, possibly while playing Aunt Vi’s death in the background on repeat.
Fear nearly rips my hand away, my knees buckling. But I draw in breath and square my shoulders. For my boys. For Jinx. My magic surges to touch his.
The smile widens, a lower, clicking growl comes from its throat that nearly has me wetting myself. I shrink back, but the hand doesn’t let me go. He’s going to start with my fingers. It’s going to be horrific and my body trembles.
I should’ve told Lucas I love him. I should’ve told Valen I never stopped loving him. I was a coward and now I’ll die with the regret that they’ll never know.
My heart throbs. They’ll have each other at least. They deserve happiness, even if it’s without me.
The curse’s wide smile falters, black eyes dropping to our joined hands. My magic brushes it, but doesn’t bind.
The world pulses, the white bubble around us rippling.
The curse hisses and lunges, rows of teeth all I can see as I scream.
But it flickers away. The world flickers away.
I’m stuck, frozen with my arm outstretched, the sensation of another’s hand in mine still there, but the curse nowhere to be seen.
My heart thumps, cold and hot. Cold and hot. Whispers. I blink and look down. A woman, pale and gray, smiles at me. Her copper hair sticks to her sweaty forehead, her heart a black glow as it thumps slowly, a thread shivering to extend to my split heart.
A black shadow ripples around her, and a rasped whisper hums, “I love you, Astoria Rose.”
She braces my feet with her fine bone hands. A thread stretches behind her. Another woman, similar yet different. Down farther and farther, as far as the eyes can see. Generations connected by one, black thread.