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“Alright, I’ll bite. Then what would give theGod of Death—” she whispered his name, “—reason to destroy a bunch of trees?”
I pursed my lips and swished them from side to side, thinking for a moment. A flicker of a thought invaded my mind with such potency that I blurted out, “A lover’s quarrel.”
Adelina shook her head. “No way. The God of Death was a ruthless king. According to the books I’ve read, he doesn’t possess the ability to love, because he doesn’t have a heart.”
And it was the strangest thing, because even though I knew next to nothing about the gods—especially the Old Gods—I felt tempted to argue with Adelina. But I shook it off, deciding it was pointless, since again, I knew pretty much zero about the gods and Adelina had made herself the self-proclaimed expert on the subject.
Adelina started, “It’s a pity, too, because the pictures I’ve seen of him?” She fanned herself. “He is on an entirely different level of delicious handsomeness.”
“Really?” I said, this bit of info piquing the interest of my sixteen-year-old mind.
“Oh, yes. He’s ridiculously handsome,” she exclaimed. “All I can say is ifthatis what waits for me on the other side, then sign me up for a one-way trip.”
I snorted out a laugh, the sound mirroring hers.
Adelina’s mother referred to us as two peas in a pod, and for the most part, she was right. There was a sisterhood between us, and it wasn’t just because we were both Cursed, although likea hammer to heated iron, that had been the main element that originally forged our friendship.
“Speaking of handsome men, how are things going with Oliver?” I asked. For a girl who used to gush daily about the things he did with his tongue in her mouth, she had been awfully quiet about him the last two times we had seen one another.
“They’re not.” She let out a sigh and waved her hand over a spot of barren ground. Her brow furrowed as she concentrated. A few seconds later, a small plant sprouted, two drooping leaves unfurling from it. She pulled her hand away, a frown on her lips as she observed her struggling creation.
“I thought everything was going well with your courtship?” I asked as I placed my hand over top and conjured my Curse. Droplets of water emitted from my palm, raining down on the plant. Before long, the leaves stiffened up.
Adelina smiled in thanks. Her hand returned beside mine as she used her Curse to help the plant grow some more, while I continued to water it. As we did this, she continued, “It was. Oliver is great. He has prospects and I think we could have a great life together. But . . .” She trailed off.
“It’s the Curse, isn’t it?” I asked, knowing the feeling all too well—it was the main reason why I never planned to get married. I wasn’t about to risk my neck, quite literally, for a husband.
She nodded. “It is. I know my Earth Curse isn’t very strong, but it’s still a part of me. I can’t imagine hiding it from my spouse for the rest of my life. That would be like hiding my true self.” She nibbled on her bottom lip, her voice growing softer. “I’ve been debating telling him—”
“No!” I shouted. My voice was stern to the point that I reminded myself of Kaleb. “Adelina, youcan’ttell him.”
“But what if he’s not like the others?”
“But what if heis?” I shook my head. “If you want to tell him, then tell him when you are old and gray, and you’ve liveda full life, but do not tell him now, when you have an entire life to live. It is not worth the risk.” My eyes flickered between hers, pleading with her not to do such a foolish thing.
Her knitted brows softened. “I understand your concern. Truly, I do. I’m well aware of the risk.”
“So then say you won’t tell him,” I urged her.
“I won’t promise you that, Sage. It would be a lie. And I’m tired of the lies,” she said as she stood, her hands dusting off the back of her skirt.
I leapt up. “Adelina—”
She cut me off. “I’ll see you at my birthday tomorrow, yes? Mom’s going to make a whole chicken. You know it’s my favorite and we don’t get it very often, especially not since Mrs. Chesterfield raised our rent.” Adelina sighed. “That bitter old woman is something else. She’s always barging in, unexpected.”
“Yes, of course I’ll be there,” I said quickly, eager to get back to what we had been discussing, regardless of her attempt to change the topic. “Just wait. We need to talk about this.”
“We did talk about it,” she replied softly, not a hint of anger in her voice.
Mine didn’t fare so well. “Not really. You more or less told me that you are debating telling Oliver about your Curse, something no good can possibly come from. If you tell him, you won’t be wearing some pretty white gown. You’ll be wearing a cheap piece of cloth and an iron collar around your neck as they drag you to the pyre, not the fucking altar,” I spouted like a teapot hitting its boiling point.
“Then I guess I’ll get that one-way trip to the Spirit Realm that much faster,” she replied sarcastically before she turned and stomped away.
I huffed at her, too stubborn to go after her.
I regretted our fight that happened yesterday, regretted not going after her and making things right. Perhaps if I hadn’t been so abrasive, she would have given me a chance to talk things out with her. But instead, I’d jumped on the don’t-do-it-wagon, and it made her shut down.
I glanced down at the red cedar fox, collared with a large red ribbon tied in a bow. The carving wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t half bad either, and in some small way, I was proud of it. I’d paid for the piece with sweat and blood—the multitude of cuts on my fingers attesting to the latter.
