Saeldian hadn’t expected that. An archfey could have brokenSaeldian’s natural resistance to enchantments like a door built of paper and made them tell the truth.
The pact that made me powerful keeps me alone, but I am nothing without it.
Saeldian had been waiting for her to do it, terrified of what would happen after that.
Kell was only a few feet away. They could smell his armored leather coat and the soap that rested on the edge of the tubs in the Village That Chooses Its Own. Saeldian had dared one glance at Kell after Ilondrel had accepted their answer, and he looked at them just the same way he had when they had been caught in their shadows—like he felt sorry for them. Pain and realization as he saw more than they wanted him to see. Now he followed along in Saeldian’s fragile wake, and Saeldian couldn’t look back. Maybe Kell’s heart still bled. Maybe Kell had remembered his hatred. Saeldian couldn’t bear either.
Kell had sung to strengthen their fight against the drowned creature that attacked them. He sang for them, after everything Saeldian had done to him, and they couldn’t thank him for it.
The pact that made me powerful hurts everyone around me, but I can’t be safe without it.
Saeldian looked back at the island. It was too dark to even make out Ilondrel’s silhouette standing before her beloved’s casket, but Saeldian stared at it until the boat bumped to a stop. They hoped Kell would move away. The craft jostled as someone stepped off, but the smell of leather and fern-leaf soap didn’t fade.
“Jubilee and Lorzok? Here you are,” Helfyra said.
“Here” was two tiny cottages joined by a common path. They looked like a picture, covered in creeping vines turned orange and deep red, fenced by the last of the roses. Their scent mingled with herbs and ripe apples from somewhere behind the houses.
“It’s adorable,” Jubilee said.
“It’s yours for your stay.”
“It looks very pleasant,” Lorzok said. “Timtim and I will enjoy it very much.”
The barge moved on as soon as Lorzok’s boots landed on the wooden dock.
Saeldian had hurt Kell just by leaving. Saeldian would hurt Jubilee just by leaving. And a few miles after that heartbreak, Saeldian would find someone new to befriend, another heart to break and break again.
The pact that made me powerful makes me lie to everyone I know, but the power is more important than someone I can leave.But they hadn’t said that. They said,I’m selfish.Ilondrel had seen Saeldian and knew how much it hurt them to be alive, and how desperately Saeldian wanted to live anyway, and she had said,You and your hearts are welcome.
Saeldian shut their eyes tight. As if they could rest. As if they could grieve. As if they could heal and not have to rip it open when the job was done—
Kell’s leather armor and herb soap were right next to them. He touched their shoulder. “Sheld.”
He never called them that.
“I know you can’t talk about it,” he said. “But I can tell you need something. Can I help?”
“No.”
“Because you don’t need anything, or because I can’t help?”
“And this is for you,” Helfyra said.
Saeldian quickly grabbed their pack and hopped onto the dock. They could say they were tired and close the door. The dock bobbed with each step. As they got closer, they stopped walking. That wasn’t right. There was only one cottage at the end of this path. It was larger than the pair Lorzok and Jubilee were in, but it was still cozy. A soft orange glow showed through the windows. A fire in the hearth?
“There’s been a mistake,” Saeldian said.
The little dock dipped when Kell landed behind them. “What mistake?”
“Pick anything tasty that you fancy; it’s all freely given,” Helfyra said. “Sleep well.”
And then she left.
“Wait,” Saeldian said, turning back to her. “There’s only one cottage. Where do I—”
But the wide ferry was already fifteen feet away, and Helfyra was busy coiling a line neatly. Or was ignoring them.
Saeldian knew a blow-off when they saw one.
