“Your heart is more than a weapon!”
“Have you ever wondered if I might never be able to reclaim it at all?” he burst out. “My own heart would reject me. There’s nothing good left. If I listen to it, there’s only hate and pain. I want it to stop.”
I froze. Dark veins branched across his skin, and his eyes glowed a feral yellow, burning like fever. He was hurting himself, too.
Ghostly heads peeked from the bushes, watching our quarrel like an audience at the climax of a tragedy. They carried my sweets in their translucent arms, stacked into a lopsided cake. At the top, a drip of wax slid down from a crooked candle already melted into the shape of an L.
“I told you, at my signal,” Arawn groaned, a hand pressed to his forehead.
I flushed scarlet, stood up, and brushed off my dress. I handed him back his coat without a word and blew out the candle. “Thank you, everyone. I’m going to bed.”
I picked up my battered broom, its bristles scattered and frayed, and stormed off. Rain began to fall, soaking me beforeI even reached the castle. I slammed the door behind me and muttered under my breath:
“That sorcerer doesn’t understand a thing about his own emotions, but he still manages to make everyone suffer through them.”
PART IV: The Spirits’ Lake
20
Magic can do many things, but it can never bring someone back from the dead.
LEMPICKA
“Lempicka… save me.”
The voice ripped through the night, tearing me from sleep like a gong reverberating inside my chest. I bolted upright, breath short, my heart pounding against my ribs. A sugary sweat pearled on my forehead. It was impossible. Yet, I had heard it.
Nyla.
I threw my blankets aside, strode across the room, and yanked open the heavy curtains. Outside, the mist wavered between the trees, thick and impenetrable. But in the distance, a wavering light pierced the fog, pale as a moon’s reflection trapped in water.
A silhouette. A woman with short hair, white as snow against the forest’s darkness. A hand stretched out toward the manor. Toward me.
“Nyla,” I whispered, her name slipping from my lips.
I seized my lantern and, without a sound, hurried down the stairs, careful not to wake my companions. The manor groaned with the bite of the wind, its pipes rumbling like a distant avalanche. I pushed open the front door. A blast of icy air rushed in at once, biting my cheeks.
“Lempicka…” The voice floated to me, like a lullaby.
My step faltered. The air grew heavy. The fog thickened, clinging, seeping against my skin like a living thing.
“Nyla?” I breathed. “Where are you?”
My throat tightened as I advanced, fighting against the mist that clogged my lungs. Then I saw her. A tender smile. Clear eyes, half-closed, as though they held an infinity of stars. It was her.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” Nyla said softly. “Come closer. We’ll be a family again… You, me, and Aignan. Like before.”
I rushed toward her, terrified she would vanish again.Faster. My feet sank into the mud, the forest clung to me, brambles tearing at my arms. But I didn’t care. I had to reach her. Behind me, the manor faded into the mist. Red eyes blinked between the trees, retreating into shadow. Even the Spirits fled that night.
But me… I didn’t stop.
“Nyla!” I cried.
My mentor stilled. One hand was outstretched, calling me closer. “I missed you.”
A sharp pain twisted my chest. I wanted to believe. By all the confectioners, I wanted so badly to believe. My trembling fingers brushed her outstretched hand. “You came back… The witch was lying. You’re here. You’re not?—”
My lantern slipped from my hands, shattering on the ground. Darkness swallowed me whole.
