Page 117 of Cursebreaker

My heart skips a beat.

A piece of his soul.

It’s more than just words—Margaret carries a piece of Jack’s soul. Through marriage, they became one, and whatever magic either of them possessed would have been split between the two of them.

I draw back slightly, looking up at Titus, his gaze hooded as he rubs small circles between my shoulder blades.

His brow furrows. “What is it?”

My pulse pounds in my throat. “Do you trust me?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

I bite the insides of my cheeks, attempting to hold back another bout of tears. “Good,” I say, “because I have a plan.”

Liv and Sylvie perch on my shoulders as the crisp midnight breeze sweeps over the dark waters of the bay, casting my unbound hair behind me. Other than the two pixies, Father is the only one who knows what I intend to do. When Titus and I called for him—when we asked if he would not only help but also keep our plans a secret—I was certain he would try to persuade me to change my mind. But he only smiled, a mischievous twinkle in his eye that reminded me so much of Owen that I almost wept.

“Your mother and I have no secrets between us,” he said. “But I can give you a head start.”

Now he ensures that I’m alone as I make my way onto the main deck, pulling my coat tighter around me, the embroidery sparkling in the silver glow of the full moon.

Titus insists that Leo’s Pegasus, like all Pegasi, is in close communion with the True King. That these rare Myths are formed of stardust and sent in response to the desperate prayer of those in need. It seems a lot to hinge our plans on, but I don’t have any other choice but to hope he’s right. I can’t go with the others to Bludgrave. I must go alone, tonight, before anyone finds out I’ve left. Because if I wait—if Mother or Henry or anyone else knows what I plan to do after I find the Key—they’ll try to stop me.

“Please,” I pray, my gaze fixed on the heavens above, “if you’re listening, send Swiftwing to me.”

Nothing.

In the silence, doubt creeps in, twisting my stomach into knots. Maybe the True King isn’t listening. Maybe he just doesn’t care.

A sob hitches in my chest.

“If you have a plan for me—if you’ve ever had a plan for me—I can’t do this on my own. I need your help.” I’ve no tears left to cry, but my voice catches, my throat burning. “Please.”

The stars glitter overhead, but all is quiet aboard the Starchaser. I bow my head, my eyes shut tight against the sting of gathering tears. I’ll just have to find another way, I think. There must be another way.

I look up at the sky once more, the twinkling tapestry blurry through the prism of tears, and make one final plea. Not with words but with my heart.

I never asked for any of this. But I’m asking now.

Send me, my heart whispers. Let me do what I can to ensure that children like Albert can live in a world where they are free. A world in which people like Henry don’t have to fear cannibal ships like the Deathwail. A world Owen fought for.

A world he died for.

The air goes perfectly still, as if the Stars were holding their breath.

And then—

Wings stir the night.

The Pegasus touches down on the main deck, her coat glittering in the silver radiance of the moon.

A hope. A wish.

An answered prayer.

I reach Bludgrave Manor just before dawn. The Elysian Map indicates that the Key should be here—or at the very least, whatever clue will lead me to the Key. As Swiftwing carries me over the lush, sloping landscapes of the Eerie, I try to focus on the Relic—where I might find it, what sacrifice I might be forced to make in order to obtain it—but my thoughts drift to the house itself, the home I never expected to miss.

Days ago, Bronmir and Elatha led a small troop of our soldiers, liberating the people of Ink Haven. But no one stepped foot on the grounds of the estate for fear Will had laid traps, and when Swiftwing lands near the fountain at the center of the drive, the hair on the back of my neck prickles.