Chapter Twenty-Four #2
My vision blurs. Tremors cascade down my limbs, clawing at a hope I’d long, long suppressed.
A way to break a curse. I’d never thought it could be real.
All attempts have failed. They’ve always taken a heavy toll, like Ruth’s eyes and the withering of the north.
As far as I know, breaking a curse has never been done before. I’ve never even considered—
Will grabs my elbow as I sway.
“Breathe, Fliss. We should get going, fast.”
“Why? What does it say?”
“Any magic in that book requires a serious price.”
“What is it? What does it need?”
Will’s eyes bore into mine. He doesn’t want to tell me. He doesn’t want to hurt me. Which can only mean—
“Card,” I gasp.
Will nods.
“It says that when the flowers are gathered and the spell set in motion, a dark curse can be broken with a declaration of true love,” he says. “Once the person has spoken the words aloud, they exchange the life left in their body to cure the one they love. It’s a trade. Balance. A life for a life.”
“A declaration of love. Like marriage vows.”
“Exactly.”
“That must be why they were worried about the ceremony being canceled. They need Card to give his life to break Bash’s curse,” I say, my words tumbling out. “He won’t know what he’s doing. Oh my gods, it’s tomorrow. Card might die tomorrow.”
Will tries to reply—I watch his mouth open, his lungs fill. His words should have come next. Instead, he squints as if his eyes are having trouble focusing and all the color floods from his cheeks. He places a hand on his forehead.
I blink. Did he realize something else? Is it the effects of the book?
“I feel kind of weird,” he groans.
An instant later, he bolts upright. His hand shoots toward me, and I’m hit with a magical sensation that splinters my skin. Will’s knees hit the stone floor like the final crash of an avalanche.
“Will!” My voice is swallowed as his spell takes over. I twist my palms before my eyes and watch as my whole body turns invisible, concealing me from view.
Not a moment too soon.
The antechamber door swings open, and a tall woman strides into the study, her pale skin still radiant in the fading sunlight.
Her blond hair is styled elegantly; jeweled pins hold sectioned twists in place while loose waves cascade down a flowing mauve dress with long lace sleeves that end in wrists of silver bracelets.
Her sharp chin is high and her shoulders low like she’s used to being in control.
Like she’ll destroy anyone who gets in her way.
Will tries to get off his knees, but she frowns and waves a hand. A tendril of purple magic dances across her fingers and forces him into a slump.
“What’s this?” the woman says, leaning forward at the waist. She grabs Will’s chin and digs her fingers in. Whatever spell he’s under doesn’t allow him to fight back as she lifts his face to hers. “What could you possibly be doing in my chambers?”
Will smirks. The bold one, the one he uses to tease Bash. He’s going to play with her to help me escape. She doesn’t seem to notice me at all, but regardless, I’m frozen in place, my breaths shallow. My hand around my throat.
This must be her.
This must be Morgana.
What do I do?
“Just wanted a chance to meet the great Lady Morgana,” Will says, but the compliment doesn’t even graze her. She remains still and eyes the black cloth on the floor, the open book. Her mouth tightens. Holding back rage.
“Is that so?” she growls, and throws Will’s chin away.
A flash of magic strikes the air like a whip, and Will winces in agony.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help.
“Seems to me you’re a little mouse, trying to steal from me,” she says.
“That doesn’t sound like me at all,” Will bluffs, like he’s in no pain whatsoever. He’s determined to keep that smile plastered on his face, even if the muscles in his neck stand out.
Morgana places both hands on her hips and studies Will with keen lavender eyes. “You must have an extraordinary amount of magic to have gotten this far.”
“One of my many…ah…ravishing qualities.”
“Indeed…” She pauses, deliberating. Then a shrewd look flashes over her face. “Magic I can put to use.”
She whips around to her desk, and Will uses the second to glance where I once stood. He doesn’t know if I’m safe or not. The invisibility must work on his eyes too. He wants me to run. Morgana is too powerful for us. But I can’t leave him.
“I was just about to depart for a wedding,” she tells Will cordially, reaching for a vial of green liquid. She pours a few drops in a goblet that she tops up with a bubbling golden elixir. “Your timing is serendipitous.”
Morgana walks toward me and I flinch. She reaches toward a shelf of dried flowers by my left shoulder and collects a few sprigs without any suspicion.
The flowers she chooses—oh no. Back at the table, she crumbles a thistle between her fingers and adds it to the broth.
Thistles are never used for anything but punishment.
Dislike. Misanthropy. She adds a snowdrop.
A bringer of bad omens. A bringer of death.
I need to get Will out of here.
“What are you making?” he asks.
“Nothing for you to worry about.”
“I’m not drinking that.”
“You’ll do anything I want you to.”
An idea comes to me. If Will can keep her talking…
I might not be able to stop her from making that potion, but I can add a security net.
Luckily, Morgana’s flower supply is well stocked.
I take the smallest pinch of heather, for luck and protection, and another of dogwood, to represent love that overcomes any adversity.
Just as I thought, when I take the flowers, they stay visible. I don’t have long.
“My lady, you don’t need to cast a spell to get me to do your bidding,” Will says, laying it on thick enough that Morgana turns her head. “What is it you require?”
“Right now I require nothing but your silence.” There’s an edge to her voice that I didn’t expect, like the threads of a tapestry threatening to unwind.
I manage to sprinkle the flowers into the mixture just before she whips back around to grab it. Taking the goblet in both hands, she whispers a spell as her eyes glow gold and steam pours from the concoction. Her words echo around the stone chamber.
“Befoire englissimox.”
Will’s composure breaks.
He must know the spell and it terrifies him.
“Stop. Wait!” he begs. “I know the wedding you’re talking about, and trust me, I’m not a fan of the prince. I don’t have to drink that to want to ruin him. I do that of my own volition. You don’t need to do this.”
Morgana leans over Will and pushes his hair back. He’s panting, struggling for breath. A bead of sweat runs down his temple. What else can I do?
“I know who you are, Willoh Vane. Don’t assume I’m not well informed. I don’t know what you hoped to find here, but I don’t like intruders, and I don’t like people interfering in my plans. You are a stone in my wheel and always have been.”
“Don’t—”
Morgana tips his head back and pours the liquid into his mouth. “Now you’re going to do just as I say.”
Will’s chest heaves as he tries to resist the liquid dripping down his throat.
He twitches, grits his teeth.
Then stills, like he’s encased in stone.
“Good boy.”
His eyes are no longer hazel.
“I’m sending you to Alrick Castle, little mouse…”
They’re a pure, lifeless black, deeper than the velvet cloth that covered the dark magic book.
“…and you’re going to finish off the king for me. He’s been stubbornly resistant to my poison, and you’ve forced me to resort to something more drastic.”
There’s a tingle in my fingertips.
The invisibility spell is thawing.
It means Will’s lost concentration. It means he’s gone. It means I’ve lost him and I’m on my own. Before the visibility reaches my wrists, I’m out the door and down the stairs. I run and run and run and don’t look back.