I can’t think too much about what this means for Papa. There’s a growing fear inside me, and if I give it too much slack, it will cover me completely.No.I need to focus. Need to believe in myself.
Caspian has managed to get to his feet and moved to the entrance, orienting the staff members that Farron finds and attempting to lead them to safety. But where is safety in all this chaos?
“Don’t lose concentration now, Rosalina,” Mom says, placing a hand on my back. “I can see Castletree knitting to life around you.”
I wipe the sweat off my brow. Yes, yes, the tree is healing beneath me, bark turning a bright brown. Still the walls are an ashy gray.
“You have to push your magic deeper,” she says. “Into Castletree’s roots.”
I heave in a breath and close my eyes. Something’s glowing deep below the earth. Castletree’s roots, like branching tendrils of light. But they fray, shatter. The light cuts off where it should lead to the Winter wing.
Oh no. The Winter wing has collapsed…
Other junctions of light split, then disappear as Castletree falters.
And for the first time, I realize how much Caspian has poured himself into Castletree. It was never just his briars holding up the structure. He flowed his magic into the tree as well, an ever-present stream.
He’s so powerful, I think, even when he was giving up nearly half his magic to this. To protect Kel and my mother’s legacy. To protect my father, whose life is tied to Castletree.
Now it’s my turn.
I scream, pouring more of myself into the tree. Great gushes of power leave me. I won’t let Caspian’s sacrifice be for nothing. It’s up to me to finish what they started.
My heart is racing so fast it’s pounding in my ears. I’m unable to take in enough air.
“Dig deeper, Rosalina.” Mom’s voice pounds in my head. “Castletree is the source of all the magic in the Vale. The source of the high princes’ magic. You cannot fail.”
My arms shake, and I fall to the ground, cheek pressed against the bark and broken marble, tears running down my cheeks. I can’t let go of my connection. Not now.
If I fail… High Tower will crumble, and all the princes’ roses will die. After all we did to break their curses, their magic will leave them. I won’t let it happen. And also, my mother said Castletree is the source of all magic in the Vale. If the tree falls, what happens to the realms?
Shouts and cries sound behind me. I heave in a breath and cough. More dust. Caspian’s briars withering.
Castletree sucks in more of my magic, but it feels like trying to fill a pool with an eyedropper. It drinks ravenously until I’m feeling like a husk—one of Caspian’s briars, shrunken and wilted on the ground.
And with horrifying clarity, I realize I don’t have enough magic.
I don’t have enough power.
I blink my eyes, gaze at the dusky surroundings. Ezryn’s armor is spattered in blood. He and Justus have made a pile of monstrous corpses around us. Caspian leads another group of frantic staff out through the back gardens, concealing them in shadows. But still, more of Sira’s black-eyed horde pours in through the door. Keldarion and Dayton are outside. I catch a glimpse as they shift from their wolf forms into their armor and back again, destroying dozens of goblins at a time.
Castletree shakes as the remnants of Caspian’s briars fall away in droves. They could be nothing but shriveling leaves under a blazing summer sun.
I cry out, feral and desperate. Golden briars sprout through the floor and crawl up the walls, trying to strengthen the foundation as Caspian had.
“It’s holding,” I gasp. “I can…I can reinforce the rest of the castle.”
A crease furrows between my mother’s brows.
A wall shatters, my golden briars crumbling in on themselves. A hole breaks open, revealing an array of trolls and goblins standing in the castle gardens.
“On it!” Caspian shouts from his position at the door and throws up a barrier of green flame. His skin is ashen. He can’t keep this up for long.
“Keep your connection strong, Rosalina,” Mom yells. “You won’t be able to save Castletree by structure alone. You must heal the treeinside.”
My vision grows blurry around the edges. “I can do it,” I whisper, though the words barely leave my cracked lips.
I throw myself back into the connection.
