His mouth tilts into a curious smile. “How … unexpected.”
He closes the distance between us in a single stride and catches hold of my chin, tight. My breath comes loose in a gasp. He can touch me now.
His claws are cold and so very sharp. I try to shake myself free, but his claws dig in—not enough to pierce, but hard enough to pin me still, hard enough to drag a small, hurt whimper from my mouth. His eyes run over me, inspecting my knotted hair, my lake-drenched skirts. He scrapes his thumb against the blood beneath my nose, wiping it away.
Shadows—his shadows—rise around us.
I twist against his grip. I can feel the frostbitten burn of his touch as though his hands have traced all over my bare skin. My heartbeat echoes hollowly. The shadows spiral closer, winding around my ankles, my wrists, my throat.
“Let go of me!” I put my hands against his chest and shove him, hard.
He releases me and takes a smooth step back. I let my hands drop, then look down, realizing my hair and clothes are no longer wet. I touch my fingers to the streaks of now-dry mud on my skirts and try to shake off the rise of nausea and panic. I can still feel his magic slithering coldly through my entire body.
The Lord Under smiles at me, his expression one of studied carelessness. “There’s no harm done, my Violet. You’re here, and safe, and now you can finish the spell.”
“No harm done?” I whisper harshly. I look to the branches overhead. Somewhere above there’s an open wound in the earth. Rowan, with his blood turned to poison. “You lied to me. Why didn’t you tell me I’d have to come here to mend the Corruption?”
I try to keep the hurt out of my voice, but it creeps in. Even though I knew how cruel the Lord Under could be, I trusted him to be forthright, thought I’d be exempt from his tricks. Now, the realization that I am no different from anyone else he’s lured into a bargain makes me feel angry—with him, and with myself.
He spreads his hands, as though in surrender. “Would you have agreed to help me if you’d known?”
I wrap my arms around my waist. I can still feel it, the determination that filled me as I made that first, terrible step into the darkness. I’d still have come here. Even if I’d known all along, I’d still have agreed.
I nod, avoiding his gaze, because I don’t want him to see my face, the resignation in my eyes. “Yes, I’d have helped you no matter what. You didn’t have to lie.”
“I didn’t lie.” He is completely unrepentant. “You just didn’t ask the right questions.”
He means to trap me with whatever I’ve said, so what are the right words, the right questions? My thoughts tangle as I search for how to answer him. “Tell me why you need me here. Tell me what I’ll have to do.”
“The Corruption began from my magic, but it’s slipped beyond my control. I can’t call it back, can’t mend it with my power. It needs an alchemist—an alchemist who can work not just in the world Above but here, too.” He looks at me, smiling coldly. “Violeta, you’re the only one who can see me and summon me outside the borders of death. The only one who can walk, alive, in the world Below. You’re the only one who can cast this spell.”
I look all around us: the mist, the trees, the watery, juniper light. Everything here is so quiet and still, so far removed from the torn ground, the blackened mud Above. It’s hard to believe this place is under threat from the Corruption as well. “Where is it wounded?”
“I will show you.” The Lord Under holds out his hand to me, but I don’t move. His voice softens, both threatening and gentle all at once. “The moon is setting, Violeta. Come with me now.”
His claws are smeared with my blood. His palm is crossed with lines, just as mine is. It feels strange to see a heartline on cold, inhuman skin. I don’t want to trust him, but I’ve already wasted so much time. So I step forward and take his hand.
The sigil on my wrist pulses as he laces his fingers through mine. Rowan. The wash of colors is distant now, only the barest, pale echoes. But there. Still there. I think of everyone waiting for me Above. How close they are to safety. I hold the Lord Under’s hand and let him lead me deeper into the world Below.
We walk quickly past rows and rows of trees. They’re endlessly tall, their branches furred with slender leaves. In the litanies, the world Below is described as a forest where souls sleep. But this is not like any forest I’ve known. There is no sky, only branches and needle-sharp leaves, and crimson-red trunks.