Page 71

Eleanor’s vision had been true. The throne had been dying without a monarch—even now, the roots reached for her.

Where they made contact, root to wrist, energy moved. They had become symbiotic, but I couldn’t tell who needed the other more. Neither the throne nor Eleanor appeared strong.

I prepared my ashflower as I might a weapon and took the first step toward my sister.

Eleanor didn’t stir. She still wore the armored dress I had last seen her in, leathered with long slits for movement and worn with leggings beneath. Little had changed despite the weeks that had passed.

The sight was strange, but it was not suspicious.

I rushed to her and turned her on her side, careful to keep the cuffed root in place. I pushed the ashflower against her chest.

“Shade’s Brand, leave and allow Eleanor to be.” My work began.

Eleanor trembled. Her Brand didn’t resist my command, but it remained, like a stubborn stain. Eleanor’s soul had been contained for so long…

The spent ashflower vanished, and I prepared for a second administration.

Ninti approached. She pressed her muzzle into Eleanor’s palm, lay her body along the line of the root, and brightened her flames. Ninti fed the root her power, assisting the throne and healing Eleanor.

I applied the ashflower again, Ninti adding her strength to the process.

Between applications, I glanced at Ayla. She stayed in the shadows, angling herself to watch both the throne and the door. With a sword in one hand, the other hovering near her Brand, she gave me a sturdy nod. She still had control.

I prayed Eleanor found control too. I drifted into the Underworld, finding a far tamer scene than when I faced Ayla’s Brand. A jar sealed Eleanor’s soul, but her Brand was nowhere in sight. I pried at the jar.

On the third application, the jar loosened.

I applied the ashflower a fourth and fifth time. In the Living Realm, Eleanor’s Brand finally began to shrink, the skin at her fingertips returning to normal. She stirred but quickly returned to unconsciousness. In the Underworld, the jar opened. Within, Eleanor’s soul slept. She didn’t rise.

Nothing improved the sixth time.

I prepared another application, my fingers scraping the satchel’s bottom. I grounded myself between the living and Underworld, spreading my mind thin so I could heal her from both perspectives.

Ninti nuzzled Eleanor’s hand.

On the seventh application, Eleanor opened her eyes. She blinked several times, her gaze taking a moment to focus. “I’m still here,” she whispered.

My breath caught. “You’re here.”

There was no time for a reunion. She took command right away. “I need the rest of the ashflower—now,” she said. “Finish destroying my Brand.”

“You know about the ashflower?”

“Teyr sent me a vision. He promised you were coming, that you had everything I need. The ashflower, it’s for me.”

I glanced back at Ayla. I waved her forward, asking her to join us. She approached.

“Eleanor, there is someone you should meet,” I said. “This is Ayla. She has been branded too. She’s the one who led me to you—”

Eleanor didn’t let me finish. “The throne can’t accept me while I’m branded. Give me the rest of the ashflower.”

“No,” Ayla whispered. “I need it too.”

Eleanor glanced at her, not quite giving eye contact. “When I am queen, I will make you healthy again.” She faced me with urgency. “Now!”

Ayla blanched. “Are you sure that’ll work?”

“No,” Eleanor answered. “But healing me is the better option.”