Emeline pushed away from the door, watching the sea of red-gold wash through the white trees, awestruck as the horses swept into the distance, leaving no trace of the shadow skins behind.
When the woods fell silent, only Lament remained, trotting back to them.
“Come on,” said Grace, gripping her shimmering sword and stepping up to the door. It creaked as she swung it open, revealing brown earthen steps woven with thin white roots that disappeared down into the cavernous dark.
“Grace, wait—”
When Emeline stepped inside to stop her, the door swung shut, swallowing them like a hungry mouth and plunging them into blackness. Emeline turned, heart hammering, and reached out her hands, sweeping them through the air until her fingers grazed the wood of the door. Grabbing hold of the copper handle, she tried to turn it.
It wouldn’t budge.
Locked.
“No …”
“It won’t open until a tithe is given,” came Grace’s voice from much too far away.
Shit,thought Emeline, running shaky hands through her hair.What have I done?
Emeline couldn’t see her friend in the darkness, but she heard Grace’s footsteps moving ever downwards. Using the dirt walls to guide her, Emeline followed her down the steps.
How would she get Grace out of here now?
As she descended, the air began to glow. Something pulsed through the cool, soft dirt beneath her palms and a damp, earthy smell seeped up. At the bottom of the steps, the glow brightened and Emeline saw the root-infested walls around her.
Grace’s silhouette shrank into the distance.
Emeline hurried forward, following her through the glow until the strange pulsing swelled, filling up her chest, and the earthen corridor opened into an orb-shaped chamber, with pale roots trailing like ivy down to the floor.
In the center of the chamber was the source of the glow andthe pulse: huge and white and shaped like a teardrop, a seed thumped like a human heart, suspended in a tangled web of roots instead of arteries.
Beneath it lay a black pool, rippling gently as drops of water fell into it.
The Heartwood.
Emeline imagined the king standing here, offering up the power in Edgewood’s tithes, helping the forest fight back the curse. She thought of her father, the Song Mage, making his own sacrifice. Had he stood in this exact spot? Was this where he was transformed from a talented musician into a monstrous mage?
Emeline shivered.
As Grace disappeared around the other side of that beating heart, Emeline felt her last chance slipping away. It was now or never. She would get them both out—by force, if necessary. She would break down that door if she had to. No way was she letting Grace do this.
“You’re making a mistake.”
Grace ignored her.
“Don’t you think Sable would want you to live your life?” Emeline pressed, a little desperately, coming around the other side of the suspended heart. “Don’t you think she’d want to know you’re alive in the world, sleeping beneath the same sky, thinking about her?”
“She won’t know,” came Grace’s answer. “Because she won’t—”
When Emeline came into view, Grace glanced up. Her dark gaze darted to something over Emeline’s shoulder and her eyes widened. “Emeline! Watch out!”
When Emeline turned to look, a loudthud!clanged in her ears. Pain sparked at the back of her head.
She didn’t even feel herself fall before the dark descended.
FORTY-TWO
EMELINE WOKE TO Ahazy glow. Her head throbbed, her vision blurred, and a steadydrip drip dripsounded from somewhere nearby.
