Page 138

“Sapprimyr lo Sercyllyir.”

Light flooded the dungeons, casting a harsh glow onto every dull surface. Lavender screamed. When the light cleared, Lavender was staring down at her shaking hands. “No…”

Thicket knew it had worked by the sorrow carving vicious angles across her sister’s face as screams of outrage and loss pounded in Thicket’s ears.

It was officially over.

Vindrya was safe and forever would be from Lavender Antonella Vogeli.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Thicket left the dungeons, body dancing with the last embers of trepidation. Her hand rubbed at her throat, which was sore from the harsh grip of her sister’s wind. After the warning she had received from the Numyna, she anticipated her sister might try something, a last ditch attempt to either free herself or kill Thicket, but she hadn’t quite foreseen the phoenix tear.

Thicket had suspected, but the raw anger her phoenix had felt upon seeing the tear confirmed it.

The phoenix taking residence inside her was the same phoenix Lavender had sacrificed to orchestrate Alouette’s kidnapping. Her heart hurt for it all over again. As grateful as she was to have her phoenix by her side, its death wasn’t something she would have traded.

Thicket touched the pendant of her phoenix, a silent apology. It purred reassuringly, its warmth coiling around her heart, as if to say it wasn’t her fault. Her hand began to sting. She glanced down at the dry blood crusting around the skin Lavender had clawed in her attempt to grab the knife. She watched, wide eyed, as the wound started to seal.

When Thicket had been tethered to her kiwi, she had been granted the ability to smell danger. That ability had vanished once her kiwi passed. Thicket hadn’t given much thought about her phoenix’s ability, but as her skin knit itself together before her very eyes, she knew she had somehow adopted the healing powers of phoenix tears.

Thank you, Thicket thought. Her phoenix responded with a merry chirp.

Her fingers shifted to the second pendant hanging beside her phoenix’s. Her kiwi. She cradled it, closing her eyes and envisioning her final moments with her kiwi. Its familiar trill sounded in her mind, as clear as though it was right there with her and not just a faded memory.

She hoped it was doing okay. That wherever form its energy had taken, it was happy.

Footsteps padded at the end of the hall, followed by yet another trill. This one didn’t come from her mind.

Thicket’s eyes popped open.

The ghostly outline of a pear shaped body darted in front of her, vanishing down another corridor. Heart thudding, Thicket scrambled after it. The guards trailing her fought to catch up, calling after her as she turned the corner. She ignored them, coming to a stop as she came face to face with her kiwi.

It looked similar to how it had been when Thicket conjured it with moonlight, yet it was far more transparent. Smoke wafted from its body, as though even the slightest breeze would be enough to disperse the fragile threads weaving its form together.

Tears streamed down Thicket’s face. She crumpled, heart wrenching with equal parts joy and heartbreak. Her kiwi chirped, leaning forward to nuzzle her hand. Its body passed through hers, licking her skin with an icy mist.

Already its body was starting to unravel, wisps of smoke vanishing into the air. Thicket ran a finger along the outline of its head. Her kiwi purred.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

Her kiwi looked up at her, eyes shining, and let out one last trill—a final goodbye before it faded into tendrils of mist.

“Your Highness,” the guards said, finally catching up to her. “Are you alright?”

Thicket stood, wiping at her eyes. “I am fine. I just thought I saw something, that’s all.”

The guards didn’t look entirely convinced, but they had no time to question her as someone barreled down the hall. “Kit!” Bern was racing towards her, skirts flying all about.

“Bern!” The words had barely left Thicket’s mouth when her friend tackled her in a hug, spinning her round and round until Thicket wobbled on her feet.

“You did it!” Bern said, all grinning teeth and bright, exuberant eyes. “I knew you could!”

“You only told me about a dozen times,” Thicket said. Bern’s glee was infectious, chasing away the remnants of bittersweet sorrow from seeing her kiwi.

Bern set her hands on her hips. “And how many did it take for you to actually believe me?”

Thicket laughed nervously. Bern puffed her cheek in a pout and punched Thicket’s shoulder lightly.