Page 79 of A Treason of Thorns

“I still want what I was brought here for,” Wyn says. “To save you, no matter the cost. To see you get out of this alive and well.”

“Wyn, can’t we save each other?” I ask.

He gets to his feet and helps me up. “I don’t know, Violet. I suppose we can try, but I’m never going to stop wishing you’d just walk away.”

I scowl at him. “I’d die first, and you know it.”

“I do,” he says. “And that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

29

LATE IN THE AFTERNOON, ESPIE AND ALFRED JOIN US.Wyn and I are in the study, which overlooks the front drive, and go out to meet them when they come through the bramble gate, on foot and unaccompanied. It’s as if we’ve all decided not to comment on the state of the House, or of Wyn, though Alfred’s eyes widen and I hear a sharp intake of breath from Esperanza. But I stand before them, holding Wyn’s hand tightly, and Espie is the one who speaks first. She sets a valise down on the gravel next to her and smiles, though the expression’s a little too bright.

“Do you have somewhere to put us up?” she asks offhandedly, as if she’s just arrived at an ordinary country manor—the sort with a roof and windows and no destructive magic coursing beneath the ground. “Of course you’ll probably be otherwise engaged tomorrow evening, Vi, and we’ll go back to our rooms at the Red Shilling, but it’d be nice to get away from the crowds in the public room tonight. And perhaps you and Wyn wouldn’t mind the company. Although if you’d rather be on your own, just say so.”

“No, we’d be glad of the company,” I say, glaring at a bramble that’s creeping toward Alfred’s ankles. It rustles and pulls away.

On our way indoors, I hang back behind the others and stop in the ruined foyer.

“Please don’t be dreadful about this,” I beg my House. “Please just let us all have one last pleasant night. I know you and I are at odds, but if you ever loved me, let me have this. I still love you, you know, whether you believe it or not.”

A few sad white flowers blossom from a crack in the wall, drooping almost before they’ve opened. I reach out and pick the blooms, tucking them into the strands of my braid. That seems to pacify Burleigh, because the flowers flush with life, and outside, the sun comes out for the first time today. I run a reassuring hand along the wall all the way to the kitchen, where everyone has gathered. I feel loss and longing, pain and regret, through the tips of my fingers.

“I swear to you,” I whisper, “everything will be alright. I’m not going to turn on you, Burleigh, just because you aren’t the only thing I care for anymore.”

The House is silent, as if thinking over what I’ve said.

And so, all of us within Burleigh’s walls pretend that nothing untoward has happened, and that tomorrow I won’t return with the heartstone, holding both Burleigh’s and Wyn’s fates in my hand. Mira sets about salvaging things to eat from the cupboard and pantry, with Alfred as her willing assistant. Jed and Espie sit at the table amicably chatting about crop rotations and land management, which leaves Wyn and me to wander the House, searching out the least damaged guest bedrooms.

“Should we each take one side of the hall?” I ask, after we’ve made our slow way up the stairs, having to choose every step among the brambles with care.

“No.” He shakes his head decidedly. “Let’s go together.”

I’m glad of that. I want to be near him for as long as I can.

“I’m going to send everyone away tomorrow, of course,” I tell Wyn as we search room after room that’s been overrun by brambles. “I wish you could leave with the others—could get off the grounds and stay safe. Perhaps if you were gone, Burleigh wouldn’t be able to finish what it started with you.”

Burleigh is still entirely silent, giving me no sign of what it thinks about these goings-on. It’s unnerving—more so than discontented rumbling or ill-tempered brambles would be.

“You’re very noble,” Wyn says with a smile, opening another door. “But things have changed since you first came home. I wouldn’t leave now, even if I could.”

I let out a frustrated sigh and Wyn bumps my shoulder with his own, gently. “Come and find me once you bring back the stone. One way or another, we’ll finish this together.”

We’re still hand in hand when Espie’s voice drifts up from downstairs.

“Vi and Wyn! Mira says it’s time to eat!”

Stubs of candles illuminate the kitchen, set out at intervals along the table. Dinner is griddle cakes and applesauce but there’s enough for everyone, and we are determined to be merry. Alfred reads pages from the newest bits of his monograph, which are rendered far less dry by Esperanza’s acerbic commentary. Mira sings her Sephardic grandmother’s old favorite, “Una Hija Tiene El Rey,” which keeps Espie spellbound and beaming. I even let Jed coax me into showing off a string of birdcalls I learned while on the fens. Wyn watches everything quietly from his place beside me, but he smiles, and the candlelight softens his features.

When at last the candles begin to gutter and go out and we’reforced to all part ways, the emptiness inside me that was filled for a few hours by warmth and light yawns wide again. I pace in the solitude of my own room for a few minutes, and then slip into the hall, pulling on a faded old dressing gown as I go.

Wyn’s waiting outside as always, sitting on his makeshift pallet and reading as across the corridor, Burleigh replays the memory of Wyn’s binding over and over again. It tears me apart to look as Papa sharpens a long, wicked knife, going first to the wall and cutting into Burleigh’s skin. The House trembles, both in memory and reality, as mortar oozes from the edge of the cuts Papa has made. It clings, gritty and damp, to the knife’s edge. Then Papa goes over to Wyn and I can’t watch any longer.

“Do you want this memory?” I ask my own Wyn, who’s just turned over a page. “Only it’s a little grim.”

“No, I don’t want it at all, but the House likes to remind me of certain things,” he says without glancing up. “I’ve got used to ignoring it. Don’t watch this, Vi, it’s not something you should see.”

“Burleigh,” I say sternly. “Stop that at once.”