Page 62 of Blood Curse

Her bleeding palm met the silver.

The leaves lit.

White light ran along the carved stems and reached the circle at the bottom of the basin. The water moved without splashing. It curled around Bryony’s wrist, caught the thin red threads from her cut and carried them upwards.

The Crown drank them.

Its points flashed silver. Bryony sucked in a breath but kept her hand flat against the carving.

“Pain?” I asked.

“Cold. Pulling.”

“Where?” Elias asked.

“My palm and the Crown. It feels as if the spring is drawing a thread between them.”

“Can you hear the voice?”

“Still quiet.”

“Is your hand still yours?”

“Yes.”

“And the choice?”

“Also mine.” She looked at me. “You’re allowed to ask as many times as you need.”

“You may regret that.”

“Ask anyway.”

Her blood crossed the metal in fine red lines. Wherever it touched, the black stains around the points thinned. I could see clean silver underneath.

“The stains are lifting,” I said.

Bryony tried to look up without losing contact with the carving. “How much?”

“Enough to see silver.”

“Then it’s working.”

“Your part is,” I said. “Mine still has to be freely given.”

“Continue?”

The question steadied me. “Yes.”

“Say it because you mean it.”

“I choose to give the spring my heartblood.”

The Crown gave no response.

Elias reached into his medical case and lifted out a long bundle wrapped in white cloth. Lenora had given him the hilt half of Adrian’s dagger before we entered the garden. The broken blade could still slow my healing, which made it useful for the rite and dangerous everywhere else.

He held the bundle towards me. “Take as little depth as you can. The spring may pull more blood from the wound once it recognises the blade.”