Page 8 of Cursed (Court of Isles #1)

Chapter 8

Hours later, as midnight approached, I lie awake in bed unable to fall asleep. The moon glowed directly into my window, setting Wisteria Cottage aflame with shards of silver light.

Apparently, Silas hadn’t been joking. There was an actual volcano on this island with lava and eruptions and ash, and Silas had taken me right to the top of it. This man had no sense of self-preservation.

And yet, it had been a magnificent evening—exactly what I needed. The quiet calm, the escape from reality, however brief. I’d slept on Silas deeply, and when I’d woken a short time later, I’d felt energized and rested. Probably why I couldn’t fall back to sleep in my own bed now.

I made the decision to slip out of Wisteria Cottage seconds before the clock struck midnight. The moon was so bright it was almost blinding, like here on The Isle we were just a little bit closer to it than anywhere else on earth. The sky above was like looking at a Light Brite—pinpricks of starlight through a velvety black cloth.

I needed a breath of fresh air, a stroll, something to do to stave off my restlessness. I couldn’t lay for hours on end and let my mind wander. I was getting in my head too much already, contemplating things like the curse and Eloise’s tick bite—and also dragons.

I thought about the man who had brought me here, and the way his touch made me feel. About my life back home. About Simon and my parents—would I grow to miss them and the normalcy of my life in New York, or would that part of my life fade away like a lost memory? Where was my home?

I shoved my hands into the pockets of an easy pinafore dress I found in the closet at Wisteria Cottage as I shuffled outside. The night was so warm I didn’t even need a sweater.

I strolled south, away from the darkness of The Forest and the curse. I had the dagger from Silas tucked into the sheath he’d given me at my waist. The circlet ring glittered on my finger as if infused by the magic of the island. It was one of the last vestiges present from my life in New York. My hair fell wild and free over my shoulders.

I passed through a small town as I walked, clusters of little homes spiraling away from a center square. There was clearly a market street, with closed- up stalls and shops, signs hocking all sorts of wares. Everything from self-propelled broomsticks to enchanted candles to a tea shop promising healing elixirs.

I was pretty sure the broomsticks were for kids. But only about 30% sure.

As I passed through the sleepy town, I stumbled upon a second bridge. This had to be the Lower Bridge. Silas had told me there were two bridges on this island that linked the East and the West sides. The Upper Bridge near Wisteria Cottage led directly into The Forest. Most islanders chose to use the Lower Bridge, as it was much safer.

My feet clicked against the wooden boards as I moved from the East to the West. I stalled halfway across and glanced down at the waters swirling beneath my feet. Koi flitted by, larger than any fish I’d ever seen before. One in particular, a smaller, pearly-white koi, had black stripes down its body.

I wasn’t sure if my eyes were playing tricks on me, but it looked like the markings of the curse. It made me think of Irina. Of the siren. Of Eloise, playing in the woods. The siren’s claims echoed in the back of my mind: Something evil in the waters…

As I studied the fish, it ducked behind a swarm of other fish and then vanished.

I felt unsettled as I carried on, hands in my pocket. I palmed my dagger with one hand, removing it from the thick leather sheath that Silas had given me. The whole thing was attached to a small travel belt I could wrap around my waist to carry my weapon discreetly. The only sharp tool I’d ever expected to wield was a scalpel, and here I was, the new owner of a weapon that had been colored with the blood of a fallen mermaid just hours before.

Once my feet returned to solid ground, I felt decidedly calmer. I set out to explore the east side of The Isle, loosely heading in search of the bungalow. Lily Locke, the Mixologist, had invited me to come by and see the workshop where she mixed her famous potions and served the islanders out of a small shop. Even though I wouldn’t knock on her door in the middle of the night, I could at least figure out where she lived and come back during daylight hours.

I hiked up the easternmost shore, a beach slathered in sand as ghostly white as the one by Wisteria Cottage. Silver moonlight danced over the ground, so bright it was like the sand itself glowed. I slipped off my sandals and carried them in my other hand, letting my toes sink into the coolness of the natural earth.

Going barefoot was never something I would do voluntarily in New York. Even the thought of it made me nauseous. Walking barefoot around the city was so low on my priority list it sat just a few notches above licking public toilet seats .

But on the island, going barefoot made me feel grounded and alive. Confident, like my feet belonged here. Like the very island welcomed my presence.

Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe it was magic.

Gradually, I followed a path away from the beach, trying to recall the exact location that Lily had described. I was pretty sure I was getting close; I had to stumble across it sooner or later. Anytime now, I should be arriving outside of the bungalow that Lily called home.

The longer I walked, however, the more uneasiness churned in my gut. The beach faded into the background. Green foliage appeared on either side of me in shaggy masses. It wasn’t the dark and foreboding thickness of The Forest, but instead an intriguing mix of plants—fruiting, flowering, and quite possibly flesh-eating.

I’d stumbled into a garden of sorts. As beautiful as it was, I sensed danger behind the oversized leaves and tempting berries. I was pretty certain snake-like leaves had tried to nip at my ankle, and a lily-of-the-valley scent made my head woozy and my thoughts foggy.

The more I wound my way through this enchanted, curious garden, the more lost I became. My heart raced. I was trying to deny the fact that I was hopelessly, completely twisted, but it was getting pretty hard to convince myself otherwise .

How could I have been so stupid? I knew what Silas would say, that I should have never wandered around alone at night. The fact that I was proving him right really grinded my gears. I hadn’t intended on getting lost; I also hadn’t anticipated finding a malicious garden with no exit in sight.

A rush of adrenaline plowed through me when I saw a moving shadow. There was no sound associated with it, only a slight twitch beneath a palm tree. If I hadn’t been so on edge, I never would’ve noticed it in the first place.

I backed beneath the leaf of a plant that changed colors before my eyes. I could’ve sworn the leaves were yellow seconds ago, but now they were a bright pink that did nothing to hide the paleness of my skin, a shade that seemed almost luminescent in the moonlight.

The magic inside me began to simmer and froth before I could tamp it down. Nerves coiled in my stomach, and the edges of power banded around me in a web of protection. My hands began to glow. My body prickled—warmly, like someone was pouring liquid gold down my back. It dripped over me, through me—inside and out—until I was on fire with it.

When a golden halo enveloped my entire figure, I stepped forward and did what felt right. I put my hands out and let the magic rush through me, out of me, toward whatever threat lay in darkness .

The magic came out in a whoosh . It emerged fast and furious, a golden light shooting through the darkness like a bullet. The magic ropes wound thin, metallic strands around a figure lurking not ten paces away. Small, glowing lassos working for me.

“Goodness gracious, girl!” A woman’s voice sounded. “You’re even more powerful than they said. I didn’t know it was possible.”

I squinted, stepping out from behind the formerly pink leaf that was definitely now a shade of teal that made me blink.

“That’s a banana chameleon,” the woman chirped. “The plant. It changes colors and produces bananas. I came up with the hybrid. Neat, huh? Grafted it myself.”

As I surveyed the victim of my golden lassoes, I realized that I had just pinned an elderly lady to the tree with magical ropes. The glowing gold cinched her body tight to the trunk of the tree, winding her legs and arms taut—a thin strand around her neck, threatening to cut off her circulation if I so much as...

If I so much as what?

I glanced down at my hands, unsure how to control this outburst of power. I was almost certain this old woman wasn’t trying to kill me. I wanted to loosen her binds. I just wasn’t sure how to execute it.

Then again, in The Forest, I’d been pretty sure the mermaid hadn’t been trying to kill me either, and look where that had landed me. My magic seemed reluctant to dissipate, like it knew inherently that I wasn’t very good at protecting myself and might need a little assistance.

“I won’t hurt you,” the woman said. “If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.”

“What do you mean?” So far, I had every reason to believe that most things in this magical land were trying to kill me. Alone in the middle of the night was not the time to assume otherwise.

“This is my land. My name’s Hettie,” she said. “This is my private garden. It’s called The Twist. It’s called that because it’s enchanted to be a labyrinth, and anyone who wanders in who doesn’t have West Isle Witch blood will be lost forever.”

“All right, then.”

“If I wanted you dead, I could’ve just let you starve to death. Or head to the poisoned peach grove, where you would’ve eaten the deadly fruit and died within minutes. Or I could’ve let you meet Hank, my new friend—an alligator with a touch of dragon blood in him. He’s practicing his fire-breathing over in the lagoon. Not to mention the cattails around there which’ll poke your eye out if you get too close.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because Lily Locke is my granddaughter, and I assume you’re looking for her,” Hettie said. “That’s all anyone comes to the West side of The Isle for. I can get you to the bungalow if you’d like. Can I tempt you in a cup of tea first?”

At this, I dropped my hands. My magic followed suit, fading into the blackness of the night, winking out like fireworks after the grand finale. I felt tired from the exertion, worn, but in a positive way. Like I’d stretched muscles that had been lying dormant for far too long.

“Thanks, dear.” Hettie paused to do a little stretch as she slumped down from the tree. “When you get to my age, you can get a crick in the neck from the slightest thing.”

Hettie then paused to do what resembled some calisthenics. High knees. Bicep curls, butt kicks. A half-hearted attempt at some splits?

The woman was dressed in a flannel nightgown with a matching cap. It seemed laughable that I’d thought she could kill me.

“Don’t let this geriatric body fool you,” Hettie said, as if reading my mind. “Or the nightcap. I can still do a world of harm, though like I said, I’m impressed by your powers. They told me you were strong, but even I couldn’t imagine how strong.”

“Who’s they?”

“The voices in my head,” Hettie said so seriously I wasn’t sure if she was kidding or not. “Anyhoo, would you like that cup of tea before I bring you to Lily’s place? I promise it’s probably not poisoned.”

“Very reassuring,” I said. “I think I’ll pass. ”

Hettie let out a broad smile. “I’m just having some fun. It’s been a while since I got out and visited with a friendly face, what with the curse and all. People aren’t wandering around like they used to, visiting the treehouse and coming over for flapjacks. It’s a cryin’ shame.”

“You’re aware of the curse?”

“Oh, yes.” Hettie began walking, gesturing for me to follow her. “It’s been around for a while, but it’s just getting mainstream attention lately. It’s only within the last few months that we’ve experienced our first island deaths from it. Though nobody knows who’s responsible for it. Obviously, we don’t know how to fix it either, or we’d have already done that.”

“Are there any theories on why the curse is growing in strength recently?”

“There’s one.” Hettie studied me with wide eyes that reflected the moonlight so strongly it was like it radiated out of her. “About you.”

“I just got here.” I didn’t want to recount what I’d learned in my conversation with Silas to this stranger. I was, however, curious if her theories matched up with his.

“Exactly. Silas finally found you, which means other people could’ve found you too. If you’re as strong as they say you are, then you’re a threat.”

“A threat to what ? ”

Hettie’s eyes glowed like little moons as she looked at me. “You’ll need to ask Silas about that. He’s real good at what he does—he’s got all sorts of theories, I’m sure. He found you after all, didn’t he?”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked. I had sworn to keep his Hunter blood a secret, and I didn’t plan on breaking my promise, but I had a feeling that’s what she meant. “He’s good at what he does?”

“Oh, I know he’s got Hunter blood.” Hettie swatted a branch out of the way that appeared to be pecking at her hair like a chicken looking for bugs. She swiveled to look at me when I gasped. “Yeah, I know it’s a secret. I’ll keep it, just like you will. Hunters can find things other people can’t.”

“How do you know about his heritage?” I asked. “Silas told me Hunters can be killed on sight.”

“Don’t you think if I wanted him dead, I’d’ve already blabbed around the island about it?” Hettie shrugged. “I’m old. I know things other people don’t. That’s the real reason you want to respect your elders, else you’ll end up dead.”

“Okie dokie,” I said.

“You’ve kept his secret even though you have no real reason to. That’s far more interesting.” Hettie paused. “Why? ”

“I don’t really know, to be honest. I suppose I trust him. At least, I trust him to keep me alive. For some reason, he thinks I’m the only person who can break the curse.”

“Curious.” Hettie stopped short, turned around. She squinted like she was studying me under a magnifying glass. “Very curious.”

It was like she’d decided something. But she hurried onward without explanation.

“What’s curious?” I asked.

“Silas doesn’t do anything without good reason. Especially not something with huge consequences like bringing a non-magic mainlander to the island. He hates outsiders as much as the rest of us. No offense.”

“None taken,” I said. “I wouldn’t want to share this world with someone else, either.”

Hettie glanced my way, approval in her gaze. “You are an islander. Dammit, Silas was right again. That man has a practically perfect track record being correct. It drives me up a wall.”

“Me too,” I said. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

Hettie gave a cackle. “You’ve been practicing your magic. That was real impressive what you did here tonight.”

“No, I haven’t,” I said. “I-I don’t know what happened. This is the first time I’ve ever used it like that.”

“No kidding?” Hettie blinked her owl eyes. “Tying me to a tree was your first attempt at magic? ”

“Yep.”

“Dadgum,” she announced. “You could incinerate this island if you decide to apply yourself.”

I licked my lips. “I’ve always been a good student. I just... Well, I don’t know what to study. Do you know what I am?”

Hettie opened and shut her mouth, like she was truly speechless. I got the vibe that didn’t happen often.

“Silas didn’t tell you?” Hettie asked. “He didn’t share any of those theories of his?”

“No.” We walked onward. Hettie didn’t seem inclined to offer more, so I pushed for it. “Why? Do you have a theory? Or better yet, do you know his theory?”

“Nope,” she said, and I got the impression it was the first time she’d lied to me all evening.

“Don’t lie to me,” I said. “Please.”

“Okay,” Hettie said. “Though I’m not totally lying. Silas hasn’t told me his theories, but I can guess what they are.”

“Will you tell me?”

“Also no.”

“Why not?”

“Honey.” Hettie stopped, put her hands on my shoulders, and looked me dead in the eyes. She didn’t seem to harbor a hair of annoyance that I’d just wrapped her in ropes against a tree like a villain. “I know how hard it is to be new here. My granddaughter Lily was just like you not all that long ago. We could tell that she belonged here, just like you do.”

That matched up with what I’d heard from Lily too. As much as it seemed the things on this island were trying to kill me, it also seemed like the people on this island were trying to keep me alive. The stakes in general were heightened to the n th degree. People loved harder, magicked harder, enjoyed life harder.

But they also fought for those lives harder.

Life and death, good and evil. The forces on this island felt stronger, more concentrated than anything I’d experienced in New York. While it seemed irresponsible, a part of me greatly appreciated the intensity of it all. It made me feel alive.

I’d felt more needed and wanted and accepted in my short time here than I’d ever felt before. It didn’t make sense on the outside, but it made sense on the inside.

“You have family here, darling,” Hettie said. “Whether it’s blood relations or not, it doesn’t matter. We need you as much as you need us. I know it might feel like Silas has only found you and relocated you here to help with a curse, but that man will lay his life down for those who are dear to him.”

“Yes, but—”

“You matter to him,” Hettie insisted. “Greatly. You may not understand how or why, but things will become clear in time. Give him a chance, and you’ll grow to see how much he cares for you. Not to mention, he’s sort of a stubborn bastard, so he might be slow to show it. Don’t discount him if he’s resistant to opening up and trusting. He’s been through a lot.”

“You didn’t tell me what I am.”

“I don’t know what you are.” Hettie’s eyes sparkled in the moonlight, full of intelligence and strength. “I have my suspicions, but I am not going to get my own hopes up. Because if you’re not...”

I licked my lips. “Please, Hettie.”

“Here we are,” she said, bursting free from The Twist.

All of a sudden, I could see starlight again. Endless blue water. White sand shores. Perched on the beach not ten paces ahead sat an adorable bungalow with pink and purple shutters, a little lopsided, warmly inviting. The lights glowed, despite the late hour.

“She’ll be in there, waiting up for you,” Hettie said. “Lily has a sense about these things. Plus, she’s working a little overtime right now to prepare.”

“To prepare for the curse?” I asked.

“Among other things,” Hettie said cryptically.

The old woman reached for my hand and grasped it with more force than I could’ve imagined considering her age. In that moment, I had my doubts that I’d had the upper hand in The Twist at all. I tended to think maybe Hettie was right all along, and she was the one who had let me live, not the other way around .

“You will be loved here by many,” Hettie whispered, the words feeling heavy against my ears, like she was plunking them out on a keyboard one at a time. “You may be our salvation.”

Hettie was long gone by the time I realized I’d never told her my name.

“Hey, Doc!” Lily’s cheery voice rang down from the front porch of the cottage. “I’m glad you stopped by. I was up late working on a few things. Come on in, it’s no imposition, I swear. I’d love the company. My husband is out on patrol tonight, so I’m alone for a few more hours.”

“I’m sorry to swing by so late,” I said. “I wasn’t planning on interrupting you. I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk and ended up here.”

“Right where you’re supposed to be.”

Lily brushed into the bungalow and presumably resumed right where she’d left off. She bent to study a vial that was hovering in mid-air over an emerald flame. She eyed it, added a splash from a vial that made it spark, then brushed her hands on an apron around her waist. She straightened and looked my way.

I took a beat to study my surroundings, and what magical surroundings they were. The bungalow was a warm, inviting space—richly furnished with an overstuffed couch before a fireplace and a worn mahogany table with a set of mismatched chairs.

Behind her was the truly eye-catching masterpiece .

Shelves and shelves laden with vials. Short vials, tall vials, wide vials, skinny vials. Filled with powders and mist and crawly things and dead things. The rows and shelves felt like they went on forever, stuffed with everything one could dream of, and a whole lot more.

“This is my storeroom.” Lily waved a hand. “I have an assistant, Gus, who helps take care of this place but he’s off with Mimsey now—Poppy’s mother. They’re a thing.”

“Oh.”

“I know, the family trees here are overwhelming,” she said. “Don’t worry. Pretty soon this will all be second nature to you too. I literally stood in your shoes—or your lack of shoes—not all that long ago. Before you know it, you’ll barely remember what life was like before The Isle.”

“So they say.” I sounded mystified to my own ears. “I met your grandmother tonight.”

“Hettie.” The word sounded like a loving eye roll and a tight embrace all at once. “She’s something.”

“Something, all right,” I said. “I’m pretty sure she could’ve killed me.”

“You don’t have to be pretty sure,” Lily said. “You can be positive. Hettie could kill all of us if she wanted. Good thing she doesn’t want to, huh?”

“Huh,” I echoed.

“Take a seat,” Lily said. “I was just about to have a cup of tea. My personal mix okay by you? ”

“So long as it’s not going to kill me,” I said.

“It shouldn’t,” she said, in not a totally reassuring way.

In that moment I saw an uncanny resemblance between Lily and her grandmother.

At Lily’s urging, I curled up on the couch in front of the roaring fire. Despite the tropical temps outside, there was a delightful chill in the air this evening. When Lily plunked a cup of deliciously minty herbal tea in my hands, I felt more relaxed than I’d ever been in my entire life.

Lily sat in an armchair adjacent to the couch, pulling a blanket over her lap and sipping her own mug as she looked my way. “What do you want to know?”

“Talk to me about magic,” I said. “Today, it seemed like people were fascinated by the fact that I’m a doctor. A basic, human medical doctor.”

“That’s not the only reason they’re fascinated by you, though it’s probably a part of it.” Lily considered. “It’s not often we get a newcomer to the island, so that’s a novelty alone. People were shocked when I arrived, and I didn’t have any credentials to my name.”

“That’s fair.”

“More than that, the islanders are shocked because Silas brought you here.” Lily took a long drag of tea. “Silas is a complicated man. He’s a loner. Quite frankly, he’s a mystery. He owns a lot of land on the island, but he keeps such a low profile I had no clue he existed until just recently. He flits in and out, comes and goes as he pleases without much care for what other people think.”

“Do you know what he is?”

“No clue. I don’t think anybody knows.” Lily shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. “We just accept Silas for who he is because he’s got deep roots on The Isle. His grandmother lived in Wisteria Cottage before you, as I’m sure you know. She was a healer of sorts. The closest thing we had to a medical doctor on the island.”

“So I’ve heard. She has some supplies that I could at least recognize.” I glanced pointedly at her shelves.

“Yes.” Lily gave a soft laugh. “You’ll figure out the uses of dragon’s bane and recycled turtle shell at some point, but that point doesn’t have to be today.”

“I am also having a hard time understanding what I can do that a healer can’t.”

“Take it from a former mainlander: I truly understand what you’re saying. What you must try to understand is how isolated this community is. It’s a magical oasis so separated from anything that you find familiar that things you might think are quite normal—like a tick bite—are completely foreign here. Even magical healers can’t heal something they know nothing about. It would be like a surgeon trying to operate on a curse. The logistics don’t cross over.”

“Ah. ”

“In an ideal world, the magical and medical could work in sync. Sometimes, it does. Who knows?” Lily cast a sly glance in my direction. “You could be the bridge that links the two fields for us. Unfortunately, there are plenty of instances in history that show magical and non-magical folks have a difficult time working together.”

“Are you talking about the Fae Queens?”

“That’s just one example. Even in recent years there has been massive conflict. A Faction of magical folks attacked our island in the not-too-distant past, intent to exterminate all non-magical folks from existence. With power comes greed, and we must safeguard against the temptation. Sometimes, it’s just easier to coexist separately but in peace rather than try to intermix.”

“Why aren’t people talking about the curse more?” I asked. “All day yesterday, I heard nothing about it. I know it’s not totally a secret, but it also feels like something that people avoid mentioning.”

“People are afraid. We’re doing everything we can to break the curse,” Lily said. “The people who can help are working on it. The people who can’t just need to keep on living. What other option do they have?”

“Your husband, Ranger X—tell me about what he does.”

“He’s the head of the Ranger Program,” Lily said. “The Rangers are the protective force on the island. Like the police, but magical—and more. They are responsible for keeping the island safe, investigating foul play, and pretty much everything else dangerous.”

“Why do you think Silas brought me here?”

Lily licked her lips, looked down at her lap. “I think he knows something we all don’t. Something important. Silas sees something in you that nobody else can see…yet. It’s no secret that he believes you’re integral to breaking the curse.”

“Do you know why he’d think that?”

“No. But I do know that Silas doesn’t do anything accidentally.” Lily paused. “When I was brought here, it was because it was my time to step into the Mixologist’s role.”

I nodded, waiting for her to go on.

“The Mixologist is a role that a person is born for. No amount of training or magical education can prepare a person for it. The magic is either in your blood or it’s not,” she said. “It was in my blood, and when the time was right, I was brought here to fulfill my duty. I have to assume something similar is true for you. Do you feel like you belong here?”

“Is it strange to say yes?”

“It’s not strange at all.” Lily reached forward, squeezed my hand. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“So you’ve got healers on this island,” I said, “and you’re the Mixologist. You make potions and elixirs and all sorts of things. What service can I provide that’s different as a human doctor?”

“I’m not a doctor. I create potions to help people, but it’s not enough,” she said. “Not to mention, life around here is about to get a lot busier, and I’ll need the help.”

“Busier?”

“With things,” Lily said quickly. “Anyway, I should turn in for the night. Can I walk you back to your place?”

“No,” I said. “I’ll stay on the path. The moon’s bright tonight. I’ll be fine.”

Lily hesitated, then nodded. “I’ve got something for you.”

When she stood, I noticed the slim belt she wore around her waist. Several little vials were tucked into it. It reminded me of the travel belt Silas had given me.

Lily saw me watching. “I keep a smattering of potions on me at all times these days. Just in case. You never know what you’ll need in these darker times.”

Lily handed me a small case. I couldn’t see inside, but I could hear the gentle clatter of glass bottles.

“I brewed some more Fortifier for the wards. I heard you were able to patch them, which is excellent news. Silas needs the help,” she said. “And as much as I love your suggestion of Abraca-Daquiri, I’ve named my new potion the Curse Corrector. It’s the antidote that you’ve used to heal Irina. Abraca-Daquiri deserves to be something much more fun than ridding the body of evil magic.” She winked at me.

“I think that’s perfect,” I said, accepting her precious gifts. “Thank you.”

“One more for the road.” Lily plunked a tiny bottle in my hand. “Drink this now before you leave. It will get you home in one piece; think of it as a little bubble-wrap-to-go. Silas would kill me if I sent you out there unprotected.”

I glanced at the magic whirling in the vial. It was a tornado of the prettiest shade of pink I’d ever seen.

We moved out onto the porch. I was just turning to thank her for the shared tea and the friendship, as well as the vials, but a snap-crackle-pop sounded behind me, and I whipped around to face out to the waters beyond.

Beside me, Lily sucked in a sharp breath. Above us, letters danced in the sky as if written by sparklers.

SHE IS BACK.

Lily reached for my hand, squeezed it. I could see her other hand reaching for her travel belt. The one filled with protective vials. My heart stuttered.

Then the letters blinked out, those tiny specks of firelight rearranging into new words.

SHE WILL DIE.

I could hear Lily swallow, but I could also feel her steely resolve as she linked my arm next to hers. I could feel her clasping a vial in her free hand.

“What does this—” Before I could finish my sentence, another snap-crackle-pop sounded, this time louder and more aggressive.

The innocuous-looking magic in the sky took a deadly turn. The little bolts of light began to pelt toward us, falling stars of cursed magic. Lily muttered something, uncapped the vial in her hand, and then pulled me to her side.

I could barely process what was happening before the sparkling bits of magic shattered as they hit a protective sphere around us, a shimmering force field keeping us safe.

Lily held steady, holding up our defenses. I flinched with each shot of magic against the shell around us. When the last spark pinged off and died, shimmering into ashes around us, Lily let the force field lapse.

We glanced around, dark ashes scarring the white sandy beaches.

“Well,” Lily said. “I think that confirms it.”

“Confirms what?” I asked, shaken.

“You’re linked to this curse, one way or another,” Lily said. “Someone thinks so besides Silas. I think they’ve made it clear that they won’t stop until you’re dead. Or we all are.”

I couldn’t think of what to say to that. It didn’t seem like I could argue with her theory even if I wanted to. The message in the sky, the dive-bombing magic, the threat of death…

“Stay here tonight,” Lily said. “It’s not safe for you out there, even with my potion.”

“I’ll take her home.” A voice sounded in the darkness, that low rumble of thunder that signaled the storm I’d come to know was looming.

Silas stepped out of the shadows, his arms crossed, his face rocky and unreadable.

“Silas, I—” I started.

“Alessia.” He said my name like a full sentence. “Come with me.”

I glanced toward Lily, but she looked away. I knew Silas was right. Lily was right, too. Whatever was happening had reached a new level of deadly—for me specifically.

Without another word, I set off behind Silas, trailing behind his storm.