“If I find out you’re lying, well, you know what will happen.” And then she knelt to the ground and laid both of her hands flat against the earth. Her fingers dug into the soil, seeking purchase, and then the blight came surging forth. It rammed into her with enough force to fell a tree, and yet she did not falter. Her breath was remarkably steady, even when the veins beneath her eyes turned black and a tremor worked its way through her limbs. She simply devoured it all.
Mushrooms sprouted outward in a patch around her body, some splintering off in fractured lines away from the source. Their bloodred skin was vibrant against the burned grass, and she smiled at their presence. When she’d siphoned the last of the sickness from the land, she stood with her chin angled high. Black veins receded down her jawline and neck.
“A reminder of what I’ve given you,” she said with a nod toward the fungi.
At that, the front door opened once more, and Dermon stood in the entryway to Zeverin’s home. Edira tilted her head toward him. Smiled.
“Release Dermon from his employment, and stay away from threadmenders, Zeverin. We’ve done enough for your kind.” Turning her back on him, she strolled away. The edge of her sable cape fluttered behind her heels. Shadows burst forth and receded with every step. She had become something else in that cavern, but I wasn’t frightened by her change. I was in awe of her just like I’d been the day I met her.
So, I smirked at my father and then turned my back on him, too. “Goodbye,LordEmbergrave.”
Thirty-Two
EDIRA
The family was waiting for us on the steps of Fernglove Manor when we returned. They watched me with wide eyes as I strode forward and plunged my hands into the soil. Searched for the threads of blight weaving between the roots and siphoned the plague away with nothing more than a thought. Again, fungi sprouted to mark the land. The sickness passed through me much the way it had when I’d possessed only the power of a threadmender; the horrid ailment became mine, filtered through my blood and bones, and then simply disappeared. Except this time, I lost no threads in the process. I’d never lose any threads again.
Amalyss and Tasia bolted from the steps first to crash into me. The blight had been stripped from their bodies, and happy tears streamed over their cheeks as they wrapped their arms around me. Then Lydia and Clesian rushed toward us and joined their daughters, laughing and crying. Lydia pulled me up and squeezed me so tight my bones creaked.
“Thank you,” she whispered into my ear.
“Of course.” I glanced around the quiet courtyard. “Seville? Has anyone seen her?”
“Present and accounted for,” she drawled as she sauntered up to the group, wicked grin on display. “You weren’t worried about me, were you?”
“No,” Rorik muttered beneath his breath, and I smiled.
Seville wrapped me in a tight hug. “You seem different.”
“I am,” I said softly, letting my arms loosely fold around her. “But I’m okay. Better than okay.”
A loud holler sounded from the manor, and I looked up in time to see Noam, Nohr, Lysa, and Vora running toward us. I barely had time to brace myself for impact, and it still didn’t matter. Noam and Nohr took me to the ground, a rumbling heap of tears and loud shouts of joy. The shadows of my cloak flared outward with sudden motion, but even that didn’t sway their hold.
Nohr finally stood and pulled me to my feet. While his smile remained, there was a pained edge to his voice. “So you didn’t go just to keep us safe from the Embergraves.” Noam joined Nohr, his gaze downcast.
“No, I didn’t.” I toyed with the hem of my cloak. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything.”
“I so badly want to be mad at you,” Noam said, throat bobbing. “You could’ve died.”
“Maybe you did die, or at least came close to it.” Nohr studied my new appearance with narrowed eyes. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” I said, and Nohr grunted his agreement, “but I hope with time you’ll at least understand why I did what I did.”
“We’ll see.” A cautious smile pulled at Noam’s lips. “For now, though, I’m just happy you’re back.”
The two of them both pulled me into another hug, and I nuzzled against their chests. The warmth of their love filled me to the brim. Everyone was here. Everyone was safe. I’d eradicated the blight for good, and we could finally live in peace.
The next few hours were a blur of conversation and celebration as we feasted on food and drink. My brothers consumed more wine than I’d ever known them to drink, and Lysa and Vora had to help escort them to their rooms before dinner even came to a conclusion. Seville shared with us how she’d journeyed in secret with Kara to avoid the wrath of the Embergraves, and that when it was safe, she gave Kara the slip. But there was a sliver of evasiveness in her gaze, a pleading look that begged,Don’t ask me yet.
Maybe the blood on her hands was too fresh. Maybe it was something else. Either way, I simply nodded and gave her arm a squeeze.
The girls wanted every detail about the fete, the good and the bad, and Seville and I indulged their fantasies much to Clesian’s pinched brow and loud sighs. Lydia didn’t seem to mind. She had eyes only for her girls and a wide smile that never fell off her face.
A chill scraped through the air, and I glanced around. Someone had died. There was nothing for me to do; my magic was everywhere. A simple fact of life. Eventually, I hoped to get to the point where I didn’t notice the deaths unless I went searching. Otherwise, the chills would become unbearable.
I’d briefly filled the family in on what had happened in the cave. Lydia and Seville had paled; they all asked how I was faring. Their concern was a touch overwhelming, because in truth, I felt fine. A little heavier, a little more jaded, but also powerful. Safe. And entirely in control. I’d reassured them I was fine, and they’d finally acquiesced and went back to conversations about the fete.
Rorik, though... My gaze slanted to him. He’d been quiet throughout the evening. His grin was genuine, but it didn’t reach his eyes and only intensified with apprehension if our stares crossed paths. When the wine ran out and our plates had been cleared, I poked at him down our heartbond.
