Lakesedge (World at the Lake's Edge #1)(76)

I look down at the tabletop strewn with notebooks. Each page filled with scrawled-out, rewritten, and half-drawn sigils. At the center of the mess is a cluster of jars, arranged in a circle. They’re all full of ink-dark water, with a heavy paste of muddy sediment at the bottom.

I turn to Clover. “What is this? What are you doing?”

“We’re—” She pulls at the end of her braid. “It’s for the next ritual.”

Arien folds the notebook closed and holds it to his chest protectively. “Clover and I are still trying to find another spell to use.”

“Arien, you don’t need it.”

His mouth draws into a tight frown before I can finish.

“Arien. You saw me today. You saw what I can do now.”

“Yes. We saw. You really summoned him, didn’t you?” Clover looks toward the parlor with a shiver. “That icon is…” She waves a hand, unable to find words. Her eyes gleam with a mix of fear and fascination. “We were told in the Maylands that most estates have them, but I’ve never seen one before.”

“You promised me, Leta,” Arien says quietly.

“Do you think I wanted to do this?”

“Yes. I think you did.” Beneath the hurt in his eyes is another emotion. Guilt. “We were going to work this through, together.”

“We didn’t exactly have another choice.” I try to take his hand, but he moves back so I can’t reach him. “I’ve made the bargain. I can’t unmake it. It’s done. I’ve saved Rowan, and now I can spare you all from this. You don’t need to do the ritual. You don’t need to face that danger again.”

Arien picks up the jar with the lake water and turns it around between his palms. The sediment stirs up in a curl that makes smokelike patterns through the water. “What did you give him, Leta? What did he ask in exchange for this help?”

My throat tightens, and the words stick. I don’t want to lie. But I know if I speak the truth of what I’ve done, the ache within me will hurt a thousand times worse. How can I tell him I gave up our family, in this world and the world Below?

How can I tell Arien I gave up him?

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He puts down the jar and he looks at me, his anger softening into worry. “What was it, really?”

“Don’t ask this of me, Arien. I can’t tell you.”

“If I’d been stronger … if my magic had worked, you wouldn’t have done this.”

“No.” I reach out to him again. “I chose this. I wanted this. None of it was your fault.”

“Leta, the magic he’s given you, it’s not safe.”

I laugh darkly. “Arien, my love, none of this is safe. You know that.”

“Whatever happens at the next ritual,” Clover says carefully, “if it’s us or you—”

“There’s no if. It has to be me. On the next full moon, I’ll cast the spell alone, and it will work. I have to do this on my own.”

“No,” Arien says. “You don’t.”

“They’re right.” Florence fixes us all with a long, hard stare. “Honestly. You’ve reached new heights for how much trouble you can get into on a single day.”

She pulls out a chair and sits down beside me, putting her arm around my shoulders. Longing spreads through me at the gesture. It’s like I’ve heard a sound echoed across a far distance. The shape of a caress that was once imprinted on my bones and is now gone. If I’ve ever felt this before—from my mother or father—that’s one of the memories I’ve given up.

My eyes start to sting, and I blink very quickly.

“Listen.” I roll back my sleeve and bare the new, sunburst-shaped sigil. “The whole reason I bargained with the Lord Under is so that no one else need risk themselves.”

Clover rolls her eyes. “You’re even worse than Rowan.”

“An even match, I think.” Florence smiles sadly. She puts her hand over mine, covering the crescent scar. “I’ve watched him tear himself to pieces to protect everyone while he tried to mend this. I knew it was hurting him, but he wouldn’t let me close. He kept it all to himself. I could have pushed him, but I—I didn’t. I kept back. I let him stay alone. And I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s not your fault,” I tell her. “He doesn’t exactly make it easy to help him.”

Arien snorts out a derisive laugh. “Sounds familiar.” He leans his elbows against the table and takes a measured breath. “Leta, just because you can do this alone doesn’t mean you have to be alone when you do it.”

“If you came with me, if anything happened…” I shake my head, remembering Arien caught and pulled beneath the earth at the last ritual. “I can keep you safe now. I’ve paid dearly for it. So please, just let me.”

I get to my feet and go over to the door. It’s closed, when usually we leave it open to let in the air. And the window is shuttered, too.

I go out into the yard, and as I stand on the path with the warmth of heated stone under my feet, I look out over the estate.

It’s ruined.

The space beneath the jacaranda tree where we fought and quieted the Corruption is torn through the center. There’s a trench of blackened earth. Thick tendrils of mud snare around the trunk, and the branches are now bare of leaves. They twist against the sky like desperate, grasping hands.