Finally, I reach out and take his hand. “Arien, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what, exactly?” His fingers tighten around mine. He keeps his eyes fixed on the road. “The lies you told? The secrets you kept?”
“It does sound like a lot, when you put it like that.” I try to smile, but he still won’t look at me. “Yes, for the lies and for the secrets. I’m sorry for everything.”
He huffs out a frustrated breath. “I know what you want to do. You want to make a bargain with the Lord Under.”
“I want to make sure no one else will be hurt. And if he can help me, then—”
“You and Rowan are both so determined to throw your lives away. Look at what he’s done, trying to fight the Corruption on his own. He’s poisoned himself. He’s made himself into a monster. And you—” Roughly, he turns my hand palm up. Bares the crescent mark on my skin. “You did this.”
I snatch back my hand. “What else was I supposed to do?”
“You didn’t even think, Leta. You act like my only choice is to stay back, that it doesn’t matter if you’re hurt because I’ll be safe.” He bites his lip. I can tell he’s trying not to cry. “You’re my sister. I want you to be safe, too.”
“He’s helped me before.” I try not to look at Arien’s hands. His arms. The thin, pale scars left from when Clover mended him are as delicate as embroidery. “He saved you.”
“You saved me.” Arien’s mouth curves into a sad smile. “What you did in the woods—what you asked the Lord Under, and how it changed me—I don’t blame you, Leta. But this is different. He’ll want more than your magic for this. You know that.”
“No, he won’t take my magic since he needs me to use it.” I run my hand over my arm, trace the outlines of the marks on my skin. “Although … he might change his mind once he knows I draw messy sigils.”
“You do realize you’re not at all funny.”
“Maybe he’ll want my sense of humor. Then you won’t have to listen to my jokes anymore.”
“Leta.” Arien grabs hold of my hand again. “He took Rowan’s whole family. What do you have to offer that can equal that?”
I glance back over my shoulder, to where the road stretches behind us. We’ve gone far from the estate now. All around us are only trees and fields and the darkening sky. I think again of what Arien said after the first failed ritual. When I tried to make him leave, and he insisted that we stay. When he showed me the sigil on his wrist and told me, I couldn’t do anything to help you before, but now I can.
At the time, I hadn’t understood how or why he’d want to use his magic in such a dangerous way. But now I’ve gotten that same chance. A way to make up for all the time I’ve spent powerless.
“I want to help.” My voice goes out soft into the trees. “I want to do this.”
Arien scrubs his wrist across his face, and his eyes fill with tears. “At least give us some time before you summon him again. We can still figure out another way. Please, just tell me you won’t.”
“I won’t.” I wrap my arms around him. The other words hang unspoken between us. Not yet. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m still so mad at you.” He takes a deep, unsteady breath to swallow back his tears. “Why do you have to be so—”
“Terrible, awful, the most foolish sister ever?” I hold Arien tighter and realize he’s grown since we came to the estate. “Hey,” I mutter against his chest. “Who said you were allowed to get so tall?”
I reach up and run my hand through his hair, knocking the wreath askew as I mess up his curls. He shoves me away, laughing. I trip over my feet, and he catches me before I can fall. I lean against him and laugh, too.
Things don’t feel entirely mended between us, but they’re a little softer. By the time we reach the village, the sun has set. The cottages around the square are black silhouettes, their windows lit by reflected lamplight. It looks much the same as when we passed through on our way to Lakesedge. Thatch-roofed cottages, a grove of trees, the altar at one side. The unlit bonfire is at the center of the square, the pile of branches and flowers and leaves circled by granite stones.
Everyone is dressed in white, hair unbound and wreathed with leaves or flowers. The crowd is a hum of voices—chatter, laughter, calls of greeting. It’s the first time in months that we’ve been around so many people. It’s dizzying to be among the noise of the crowd, after all the silence of the estate. My skin is warmer. My heart beats faster.