“Will you come see me off tomorrow?” Briar asked.
“Please don’t ask that,” Rowan said. “I can’t say goodbye to you.”
“It wouldn’t be forever.”
Rowan just gave him a heartsick look that said he knew different.
Deprived of its sacrifice, the forest lashed out at the people of Coill Darragh.
Briar saw it on his way home. People collapsed in the street, branches clawing up their bodies. Maebh appeared outside the Swan and Cygnet and herded people toward the church. It was safe there, she said. Just until they got everything sorted, she said.
Briar offered to help, but Maebh said not to bother. From people’s faces, he could tell he looked like no help at all. When he got home, the mirror confirmed it. He’d always been vain about his appearance. He liked to dress nicely, to spend hours getting ready for a fancy party. Now, sallow-skinned and hollow-eyed, he looked near death. With leaden fear, he realized he was.
His ticket to Pentawynn lay in an envelope on the kitchen table. He sat and traced the edges with his fingertips. Vatii perched on his shoulder andnibbled his earlobe to console him. The anxiety between them was a pill swallowed with a parched throat and no water.
“You could leave Linden after,” Vatii said.
Briar thought he’d misheard. “Pardon?”
“If Linden won’t give you the cure out of the goodness of his heart, why give himyourheart when someone else would treat it better? Why not take his cure and leave?”
Because it was cruel. Because it would make him the sort of person Linden had always feared. Because Briar could kiss his career prospects goodbye if the press sniffed out what he’d done. In his darker moments, he’d thought of it, and it disgusted him. Besides, he didn’t need the cure for himself alone. He needed it for Rowan, too. Niamh’s tarot reading had been unambiguous about what lay in wait for him if he pursued a relationship with Rowan.
Frustration boiled. “I don’t understand. You’ve been pushing me to heed the prophecy this entire time. We mightdieif I don’t.”
“I push and question because whether I think your decision is the right or wrong one, I want you to be certain of it.”
“Linden has the cure. I’d rather be worthy of him than a backstabbing—”
“But Rowan loves you.”
“What does it matter?” Briar shouted. It burst out of him with such vehemence that Vatii danced away, talons clicking across the table. “If I stay here, we’re as good as dead, and if I go and marry Linden, I break Rowan’s heart. If I leave Linden after getting the cure, I’m a no-good user, just like he feared. I’d hate myself for it. You’re my guide. You’re the one who told me not to tempt fate with Rowan. You said all along it was a mistake. Well, you were right. Gloat if you like! You should! You were right.” He put his head in his hands. “You were right.”
Vatii hopped over to him and ducked under the cavern made by his bowed head and arms. She snuggled under his chin, her feathery head soft.
She said, “I wish I’d been wrong.”
CHAPTER 26
The ferry docked at Bán Cuain, a fishing village neighboring Coill Darragh. Briar had seen it when he’d flown in. The houses were painted to brighten cold, gray winters. The air smelled of brine. Morning sun shone, but the brisk April wind stole its heat.
He stood with his back to the crowd, looking out to sea. The water lapped at the wood posts, where barnacles and algae clung. He wondered why this bay wasn’t a hotbed for magic to siphon off, like Coill Darragh. Then he remembered the squadrons of fishing vessels on the opposite shore, waiting like an army, and figured that had something to do with it. The wards preserved Coill Darragh’s purity against invaders.
Something was missing from it all. Briar thought of Gretchen rolling off the edge of a roof. He thought of Éibhear giving his life and cursing his son to stop an invasion of witches from destroying their home, his people. Kenneth, dead, but the effects of his actions echoing. All this set in motion ten years ago, and Briar found himself at the center with no clue how to stop it.
He breathed deep the sea air. On his shoulder, Vatii startled and looked behind them.
“It’s a good day for sailing.”
Briar whirled. Standing on the pier, the scarf Briar made for him wound several times around his broad shoulders, was Rowan, looking breathless and scared like he’d run there. He took a cautious step forward.
“I’ve never been sailing,” Briar said. “Used to live in a town just like this, but we—well.”
Rowan said, “I’d take you sometime.”
Briar thought of his mother, and how she’d have liked that for him. “You came to say goodbye after all.”
“No,” Rowan answered. “I came to tell you something. Something I should have said ages back. And probably you know already. I’ve not hidden it well. But I’ve not said it out loud and it’s been a weighty curse to keep it from you so…”
