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The crowd remains frozen but the throne keeps growing.

Sage’s face falls. “I said no.”

“To them.”

“What?”

I understand. Fuck.

“To the communion.”

Her eyes find mine. “What haven’t I said no to?”

The answer comes from behind me.

“Your Sower.”

Mercy.

We turn and see her standing beside the throne in a white dress, red ribbon on her wrist and roots beneath her skin.

Sage looks at me then to her. “No.”

Mercy smiles sadly. “Good.”

Sage blinks. “What?”

“Keep saying it.”

The Harvest roars beneath us and the ground splits causing Mercy to scream when a root yanks her backward.

“NO!” Sage screams as she reaches for her but I grab her pulling her away.

Mercy claws at the dirt. “It needs him!” she says as her eyes find mine. “The bargain began with his choice!” The Earth pulls her harder. “And it ends with it!” Then she's gone and the ground slams shut.

Sage looks at me. “What does that mean?”

I know. God help me. I know.

“The Sower has to choose the Bride.”

Her face changes. “For what?”

“To finish the Sowing.”

“And if you don’t?”

I look around at the frozen crowd. The roots. The walking dead. Ward Farm tearing itself open. “I don't know.”

“Then don’t.”

Simple. She says it like it’s just that easy.

“Ezra.”

“I already chose once.” I force myself to look at her. “I made the bargain.” The words taste like blood. “I gave us to it.”

Her brow pulls together. “Rhett and Kai?”