Straining against the branches, I buried my fear behind a hard glare. “What do you want from me?”
“Your help.” Briar tilted his head as if it were odd I’d even bother to ask such an obvious question.
His furrowed brow only fueled my anger. “With what?”
“Threadmending.”
Fuck, not again.“I can’t.”
“Sure you can.” He pursed his lips. “At least you can try.”
“You can’t make me.” I struggled against the tree’s hold, but I didn’t gain an inch. “I won’t make a bargain with you. I refuse.” At least Tasia and Amalyss had taught me something. Already my ears were straining, searching for any hint of power behind Briar’s words that would signal the telltale magic of an evervow. I wouldn’t fall for that again.
“There are other ways ofpersuadingyou,” a low voice called from the depths of the cavern. Zelyria emerged from a hidden corridor, followed closely by Dagas. Jules was nowhere to be found.
“We’re not above tactics that involve more physical reminders of why you’d want to listen to our suggestions.” Dagas strode forward and came to a halt before me, peering closely as he inspected my face. “It’s true, we Evers often forget we are so much more than our words.”
Zelyria sauntered up beside him and leaned her head against his shoulder. “We don’t wish to hurt you.”
“I’m having a hard time believing that.” My eyes narrowed as I tried to piece together a plan. And failed. I could scream, but what good would that do? Even drunk on wine, I’d been coherent enough to glean that there was nothing else around this burrow. The Starglens lived a three days’ ride from Willowfell, if this was even their home. I couldn’t be sure how far we’d traveled. My breathing turned shallow as adrenaline flooded my system.
How do I get out of this?
“I saidwish. Not that we wouldn’t hurt you, if it came to it.” Zelyria straightened and then beckoned for Briar. He came without hesitation and stepped into her open arm. She folded him against her side. “Briar lost his parents to blight. They’re the ones holding you now.”
The hands gripping me tightened like shackles. “I didn’t realize other Evers had caught it.”
Zelyria blinked, her expression surprisingly soft and tinged with remorse. “Oh, my dear, how you’ve been wronged. I am truly sorry we are adding to that grievance.”
My stomach churned as the limbs anchoring me to the tree tightened around me. “I don’t understand. You’re not sick.”
“According to who?” Dagas raised a brow.
“Orin would have told me.”
“Would he? Why?” Dagas asked. “Does he frequently share the details of other Evers’ households with his employees? Or are you something more?”
Words formed and died on my tongue. We weren’t anything, and yet I’d assumed if he knew... No, he couldn’t have known. Otherwise, he would have shared that knowledge with me, if only to help me understand how to combat the blight in Mavis.
“We’re all sick,” Zelyria said as she watched me closely. “That’s why we’re here.”
All of them. Zelyria. Dagas. Briar. I could hardly focus on their words. The arms were still tightening, and fingers had untucked from the trunk to press into my sides. My skin crawled as bile soured the back of my tongue, and I forced myself to focus on my breath, to center myself any way that I could in the hopes of finding a means to escaping this horrifying nightmare.
Lengthen your spine. Relax your shoulders. Breathe through your stomach.I let Rorik’s words surface in my mind as I pictured his steady hand on my back.
“Even so, I can’t cure you. I don’t know how.”
“And yet, you’re going to try.” Dagas’s words were full of heat and threat, and all at once their glamours dropped. My mouth fell open as I stilled in the tree’s grasp.
I didn’t even need to call on my power to see the illness—they’d wiped away every ounce of magic, every meticulous layer of glamour, to reveal the absolute truth of their shared condition. They were dotted with dozens of rupturing pustules and gapingwounds. Their lustrous hair was now patchy and brittle, and their frail bodies were so withered and decrepit it was a miracle their clothing remained in place. The bright colors of their bespoke attire were so at odds with their ashen complexions and grotesque sores. Skin sloughed off from Briar’s cheek as he watched me, and Zelyria absently brushed it from his shoulder. Everything about them was horrifying. Sickening. But nothing was more gut roiling than the stench that wafted from them in heady waves.
They couldn’t have much time left.
“The others...” My mind was spinning, replaying every interaction I’d had with an Ever, until one memory bled to the surface of my mind. It’d been so trivial, and yet... Seville had laughed at a blemish hidden beneath Lydia’s glamour. Seville could see everything beneath her aunt’s veil. Nothing was hidden from view.
Which meant that the Ferngloves must have known about the Starglens’ sickness.
“They knew,” I managed after several steely breaths. “Orin knew.”
