The mirror beside the door shimmers with iridescent light, and another shiver laces through me. “You know Ez,” I say as I turn to see who’s coming through the mirror. “Once he’s out in the Briar, he forgets about us entirely.”
Just then, the castle groans again. A large candelabrum attached to the wall breaks free from its sconce and plummets toward us. The iridescent shape emerging from the mirror leaps forward and tackles Farron and me to the ground, throwing us out of the way.
I take in a heavy breath, staring at Farron wide-eyed beside me. We both look up to see Dayton on top of us. His skin is golden, hair wavey and smelling of sea and salt.
He grins down at us. “How could anyone forget about you two?”
My mouth is suddenly dry, eyes blinking and unblinking as if he may disappear from my sight. Gorgeous. That’s the only word my mind seems capable of right now. A single day hasn’t gone by when I don’t think about the night the three of us spent together, on the eve of battle …
A night we haven’t repeated since.
“Bucket! I’ve got the bucket!” Astrid cries and runs in, swinging the metal pail.
Dayton pulls Farron and me to our feet and takes the bucket from Astrid, positioning it under the leak.
“You haven’t arrived a moment too soon,” Marigold says, crossing her arms. “The castle’s falling to bits and poor Rosalina’s been left to manage it all on her own!”
Astrid steps up beside Marigold and mimics her movement, arms crossed, and hip popped. “But she’s done just fine by herself, thank you very much.”
As much as I wanted the princes back at Castletree, I know how important it is for them to spend time in their own realms, helping their people. Especially Dayton. Unless he finds his mate, he’ll never break his curse and unlock the true potential of his magic. And that … That’s what’s most important.
“I thought Ez was—” Dayton begins, then jerks back. “We’re going to need a bigger bucket!”
Already, the rain pouring in from the ceiling has filled this one. I could shoot thorns from my bracelets to patch the roof, but the princes don’t know about my bargain with Caspian. They think these bracelets are nothing more than jewelry.
Caspian. The Prince of Thorns. I was certain he’d show his traitorous, perfect-haired head around Castletree while the princes were away, especially once he discovered I took back the book he stole from Farron. But even he’s avoided me. And the briars he’s laced through every crevasse of Castletree look as sick as the castle does.
I hope he’s all right.
The thought comes unbidden, and immediately I give my head a shake. It’s his briars that are causing this …
But if that’s the case, why are they dying, too?
I stare up at the hole in the ceiling. Rain pelts my face and runs down the tip of my nose. I’ve been trying to summon my own briars: not using Caspian’s bracelets or even the briars he’s placed around the castle, but my very own, grown from nothing but my magic. It’s been to no avail. I’ve only been able to do it twice: first in the Below, then when I created golden briars that helped me rescue my princes and defeat the monster Lucas became.
The power that helped me realize what I truly am. Fae.
A crackle of magic sings through the air, and suddenly the rain fuses together into a deadly rod of ice.
Out of the mirror steps Keldarion, blue eyes flashing as he takes in the state of the castle. His ice rod smacks to the ground, toppling the bucket.
“Is that what you were going for, Kel?” Dayton raises a brow. “Because if I wanted water all over the floor, I wouldn’t have put the bucket there.”
Kel only sneers in his direction before turning to me. My breath catches in my throat. That feeling in my heart when I saw Farron bursts to life again, but it’s different: not a fire, but the glow of the moon off a frozen lake, the twinkle of stars fighting against a storm-covered sky. The phantom of a feeling, now that I know the true depths of what I’m missing.
As always, I have to fight the urge to run to him, to ask him if he missed me as I missed him. But I do—I fight it. I offer him a tight smile and a nod, and his own expression turns stoic.
“What in the seven realms is going on here?” he growls.
The seven realms flicker through my mind: Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn, the Below, the Above, and of course, our home here in the Briar.
Farron’s got his ear pressed to the stair banister, fingers knocking against the wood. “It’s been too long since we pooled our magic. Castletree can’t stand without us.”