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“You’re being polite,” he said without looking up.
“No, it’s very, very good,” she said truthfully. Her eyes stung, a sure sign tears were on the way, but if she let them fall, he’d want to comfort her. “But there are some things I need to tell you.”
Tyreste wiped his mouth on his shirt and nodded with a frenzied look. “If this is anything like what you had to tell me the last time you were in my cabin—”
“No,” she said in a rush. Her hand traveled across the table and clamped atop his. He looked down at it with a blank stare. “I’m sorry for what I said that day. Not a word of it was true, Tyreste. I was just so afraid she would hurt you, and after years and years of her taking and taking and taking, I’d given up trying to beat her and just tried to... to mollify her. Before you scold me again for not telling you, understand that Iwouldhave, had I thought you had any more power to defeat her than I did.”
Tyreste swallowed. His gaze hadn’t left her hand.
“Look at me.”
He groaned. “Ana—”
“Tyreste,lookat me.”
He set his jaw and looked up.
“Volemthe.” She let the word settle.
The veins near his temple throbbed. His eyes twitched in a hard blink.
“That’s what Ishouldhave said that day, but I was weak, a coward who hadn’t earned her courage. I was alone, and afraid—”
“Stop.” His voice croaked. He took a sip of cider, held it in his mouth, and washed it down. “Stop. I am just as much a coward as you. I could have come for you. I thought about it, many times. But my pride was wounded. My heart was... broken. And I convinced myself you meant what you said, because it was easier to feel slighted and wronged than to step up and be there for you when you needed me most.”
Ana squeezed his hand. She bowed her head for the next part, for though she was brave enough to make the confession, she wasn’t nearly brave enough to look into his eyes when she said the words. “Magda is not just anyone. She’s not... Well, we’ve both known awful people, haven’t we? You certainly have, before you came here. Evil people, even. But they are not what she is.Sheis something else, something I lack definition for and, frankly, I don’twantto define.”
“I believe you. I saw a glimpse of it myself, but I’d believe you even if I hadn’t,” he said. He brought his other hand atop their joined ones and shifted her hand between his two. “Go on.”
Ana nodded swiftly. She had to do it. She had to. “The letters... the missing Ravenwoods...” She paused to catch her breath.
“It’s all right, Ana. I’m listening.”
“When I said I didn’t knowwhatMagda is, I don’t. I don’t believe she’s like the others, the sorcerers. Meduwyn. Mortain and the like. But she answers to them.” She forced herself to look up. “What happened back then, what Zo and Par talked about in the letters, is happening again.”
Tyreste pursed his mouth. “Was it Magda back then too?”
She shook her head. “Magda is just a tool for terrible creatures. Before her, there were other Magdas. From the letters, I now understand the reason it’s Magda here, doing the sorcerer’s bidding, instead of the sorcerer himself. Zofia and her grandmother, Imryll, found a way to push Mortain from Witchwood Cross forever.”
Tyreste watched her, expressionless. “How?”
Ana’s shoulders lifted in a hard exhale. “I don’t know. It wasn’t in the letters. I had hoped... the kyschun...”
“Fuck. I amsosorry—”
“No, it’s not your fault. And it’s not what I wanted to tell you.” Ana withdrew her hand and plucked off more of the bread, then shoved it into her mouth. “Sorry, I really am hungry.”
Tyreste’s grin returned. “Nah, go on. Eat up.”
Ana covered her chewing mouth and shook her head. “No,” she said and swallowed. “I have to tell you now or I may never.” She moved her hands to her lap, which Tyreste noted with a slight frown. But if his touch faltered for even a second when she spilled her darkest secret, she would lose her nerve. “Magda is the one murdering the Ravenwoods. Of this, there is no doubt. I’m confident everything she does is on the command of Mortain, butwhy... I don’t know why. The answer wasn’t in the letters. I really don’t know what he wants with them.”
“I wish I could say I was surprised.”
Tears abruptly spilled over her lids and dropped onto the table. Tyreste’s face lit up with concern, but she shook her head and pointed it at her hands, laced so tightly in her lap, they were bone white. “The reason Magda chose the Wynters to infiltrate...” Her voice quaked. “Is because she cannot fly herself. And so... and so... and so... She cannot lure the Ravenwoods down from their Rookery.”
“Well, then maybe she waits for them to land down here. Or shoots them out of the sky. Or—”
Anastazja silenced him with a look he read—she could see it so clearly in his eyes—before she ever said a word. “She has her own slave with wings to do it for her.” Ana ground her knuckles against her legs. “No,no, I will not understate my own culpability in this madness. I could have chosen death, but instead I choose to live, knowing those poor Ravenwoods were never going to be released. And I did it because I, selfishly, couldn’t bear to be without my father and brother, and no matter the lies I tell myself, I know the truth is I valuedtheirlives, and yours, well above the others, and I deserve no forgiveness for this choice, nor will I accept any. And before I completely lose my voice, Tyreste, I want to take you up the mountain and show you what my explanation never could. I want you to see that it was more than fear of your safety that drove me away from you, but rather a fear... a fear you would see me as I am. As I really am. But it’s enough for me to say it. You won’t believe me until you see... until you see Magda is not the only monster in Witchwood Cross.”
