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“It told me too,” said the queen, with a sad smile.

“And someone in your family couldn’t do it, because then the curse would go to them, and everything would start over.”

“And I won’t let it touch her,” said Celestyna fiercely. “It will die lying dormant in her blood. She will never know its voice.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Orelia, glancing nervously between them. “Are you talking about me?”

Thorn could not look at her. She felt more than a little sick to her stomach—from the curse, from exhaustion, from fear, from missing Zaf, and missing Bartos, and missing Mazby, and wanting desperately to go home.

The queen pulled a long cord hanging by her bed. A moment later, Lord Dellier entered the room with a bow.

“Lord Dellier.” The queen looked steadily at him, though her voice was hollow and tired. “I wonder if you might prepare for me a bowl of porridge?”

Every inch of Lord Dellier’s body seemed to sag, as if soonhis knees would buckle. His gaze was soft on Queen Celestyna’s face.

“Let me do this, child,” he said. “I would like to help, and Thorn is too young.”

“You can’t do it,” Thorn said quietly.

“He can’t dowhat?” said Orelia, frantic.

“The curse wants to stay alive. It won’t let you do it, sir, because your family’s not bound to it, so it couldn’t pass on to you, and it would die. It won’t let the queen do it, because without her, without first passing onto another Hightower, it would die.” Thorn swallowed, her throat dry. “But it will let me, because it lives in me too. It’s gone deep inside me, just like it has in her. And it wants more.”

“And what better food can it find than its own power?” Lord Dellier whispered.

“It wants to feed more than anything else,” said Celestyna, eyes locked with Thorn’s. “It’s so hungry it will forget to stop us.”

Lord Dellier rubbed his brow. “The curse in Thorn will be drawn to the curse in you.”

“Like a starving snake devouring its own tail,” added Celestyna.

Orelia paled, her eyes wide. “Devouring?” she said softly.

Devour, devour, yes, devour,whispered the curse in Thorn’s ear, its voice rising fast.Go to her, child, go to your queen. She has power, can’t you smell? No! Stay here, stay with me. We don’t need her, we two. We are fine as we are. No, devour, devour, do it for Zaf!

“And once I’m gone, there will be nothing left for it to eat,” said the queen. “Without Hightower blood to anchor it, it will leave Thorn, it will fade from the land.” Celestyna paused, smiling faintly. “All of it, every scrap of malice, will die with me.”

A thick silence filled the room. Lord Dellier stood with his eyes pinched closed, as if he was in great pain.

Thorn rubbed the dip of her left palm until the skin smarted.

The queen reached for her adviser’s hand and pressed it against her cheek. “Please, bring me the porridge, Lord Dellier. And thank you for everything you’ve done for this country. For my family. For me.”

Orelia shook her head, put her hands in her hair. “No, no, no...”

Thorn swallowed hard. She thought of Noro pushing the dead unicorn into the swamp, Bartos falling with a scream, Zaf so pale and still in the Break.

Hopefully they were right about all of this. Hopefully theOld Wild had told her true, like Cub had said. Even so, Thorn didn’t feel strong enough for it.

And without me,snarled the curse,you will never be strong again.

But maybe, Thorn thought, her heart pounding, her palms sweaty, that was wrong. Maybe you could be strong withoutfeelingstrong. Maybe when you were feeling the smallest and loneliest you’d ever felt, and kept going anyway, that was a strength to be proud of, no matter if you were a soldier or a queen or just a simple, scared sweep.

To that, the curse had no reply.

Lord Dellier bowed. “Celestyna, I’m so sorry...”

“Go, Lord Dellier,” the queen said, gentle but firm. “For the Vale.”