BLYTHE WAS ON ALL FOURS ON HER BED,ย YELLOW BILE POURING
FROMย her mouth. She choked on it, struggling to find breaths between heaving.
Elijah held her by the shoulders. โHelp her! Please!โ
Signa curled her arms around herself; there was nothing she could do. Theyโd used the last of the Calabar bean to spare Percy. The familiar prickle of Deathโs presence against Signaโs neck filled her with dread. He stood there in the corner, watching them, waiting. A reaper ready to strike.
Itโs time, Signa.
She turned away, refusing to acknowledge him.
Blythe heaved again, vomiting on the corner of the bed.
Elijah scooped his daughterโs hair up in tender hands.
The door flew open as Marjorie rushed in, her hands gloved and her breathing labored. She wasnโt two feet past the threshold when Signa blocked her.
โNot one step closer.โ Signa tried to mimic the ferocity Blythe was so skilled at, yet she couldnโt keep her voice from trembling. โYou need to stay away from her.โ With Blythe dying and Percy following in her footsteps, there was no longer time to tiptoe around. Clutching Marjorieโs journal tight in one hand, Signa said, โTake off your gloves.โ
Marjorieโs face was pale as the moon. โWhere did you
get that?โ She reached to snatch the journal with shaky hands, but Signa pulled it out of reach.
Signa wasnโt sure how Marjorie administered the poison, but the woman had enough access to the household that the possibilities were infinite. Marjorie wanted a family. She wanted to be with Elijah. Perhaps that meant that any memory of Lillian had to go.
โThere is poison upon her fingertips,โ Signa said at last, wishing to tear the leather gloves from Marjorieโs hands.
Marjorie, who sheโd spent so much time with. Whose company she enjoyed, and whoโd tried to advise and guide her. Signa remembered how fondly Marjorie had looked upon the children. How tender her hand had been as she stroked Percyโs hair and set a damp cloth upon his forehead. Thereโd been such love in her touch, but Signa had read the journal for herself, and sheโd seen the stain of belladonna with her own eyes.
โYou think this is my doing?โ Marjorieโs fists were clenched so tightly that they trembled at her sides.
โLook at her right hand,โ Signa told Elijah. God, how foolish she was for not realizing what was going on ages ago. If only sheโd checked the bedrooms sooner. โYouโll find it stained with belladonna. Itโs what poisoned Blythe and what killed Lillian. I didnโt want to say anything until I knew who was behind it.โ
Elijah was a shell of a man, hardly seeming to recognize the words as he watched his daughter with hollow eyes. Only the quiver of his bottom lip and the shaking of his hands gave away that heโd heard her, though there was no time for his attention to fray.
Blythe had nothing left in her to heave up. She convulsed, gulping desperate gasps of air.
In the corner, the reaper stepped forward.
Signa spun to him. โDonโt you dare.โ She had never wished for anything more than she wished for Blytheโs safety in that moment. She wanted to tell Death he owed
her for all the pain heโd forced her to endure. But that wasnโt quite right. Death owed nothing for his existence. And already Blythe had lived longer than she was meant to. Still, it wasnโt long enough.
โGive her one more chance,โ Signa whispered instead, not caring who was watching or that they might think her mad. โIโm going to stop this. Giveย meย one more chance.โ
In that moment it was just her, the reaper, and a room cold as frost. The temperature stole movement from her limbs and she dropped to her knees.
Death is not something to be controlled.ย You need to
learn this, Signa. You need to understand.
โI know you can do it.โ She was pleading, and she didnโt care. โWe saved her once, and we can do it again. Just one more time, please.โ
Is there someone else who deserves death more?
The words were a test. If she wanted to spare a life, she needed to take one in exchange. Perhaps it would be a random one. Perhaps it would be one of her own choosing. Whoever it was, Signa would not allow Blythe to die that night. Rising back to her feet, she pushed through the searing cold and the shadows that urged her backโand put herself between Death and her cousin.
Donโt be a fool. Youโre cruel to make her hold on like
this.ย There was truth in what he said. Blythe was a walking corpse, ghostly skin clenching desperately to protruding bones. She couldnโt so much as tilt her face to look at Signa, her body too exhausted to continue this fight.
โItโs okayโ was all Blythe whispered, over and over again, the softest, tiredest refrain. โItโs okay. Itโs okay if I go.โ
Sweat slicked across her neck and down her back, her clothing damp and sticking to her skin. It didnโt have to be like this. Now that they knew Marjorie was the poisoner, Blythe could finally heal.
It would take only two words. One single command, and
Blythe would have another chance.
โDo it.โ Signaโs words were firm, meant not for her cousin but for the reaper who looked on. โSheโs not dying today.โ
Do you understand what this means?ย There was no
judgment in his tone, only dedication to ensuring that she understood the gravity of her decision.ย You are toying with Fate, Signa. Youโre playing God.
โI donโt care,โ she said, and she meant it. โDo whatever you must, but if you care for me at all, then help her.โ
He cast one long look at Blythe, the shadows around him thinning as he bowed his head.
Very well.
At once, Blytheโs breathing began to steady.
The reaper disappeared, and in his wake, he left a sleeping girl, a ba๏ฌed man, a red-faced woman, and a girl who had just damned another soul without a momentโs hesitation. One who stood before all of them, power thrumming through her blood.
Signa could get drunk off that power. Could drown herself in it, it felt so good.
โAre you a witch, girl?โ Marjorie asked, voice shattering like a fallen teacup. โWhat have you done?โ
Signa neednโt say a word. Elijah was beside her, his eyes wild and face purple as he shook with anger. โShow me your hands.โ It was he who must have taught Blythe how to wield her words, for had the estate been smaller, his voice alone would have brought it to shambles.
Marjorie drew a step back. โElijah, Iโd neverโโ
โTake off your gloves and show me your hands!โ He crossed the floor, each step more murderous than the last, barely restraining his rage. Marjorie drew several tentative steps back, and Signa quickly flattened herself against the wall as he took hold of her wrist and yanked off the glove. He took one look at her fingers and dropped her hand, disgust and pain written clear across his face.
โYouโve never cared for Blythe.โ His words dripped with venom as he leaned into her, so close his chest pressed against hers. โYou never cared for her, just as you never cared for Lillian. She was a good woman, Marjorie. And these children are innocent. How dare you lay a hand on them? Onย Percy?โ
The noise that came from the back of Marjorieโs throat was a strange one, something between a gasp and a snort. โThe fact that you think I didย anythingย to them is ridiculous and you know it. Iโd never lay a hand on them!โ
His jaw clenched, and he pointed to the door. โI want you to leave.โ
Marjorie gripped the doorโs frame as if to stake her claim upon the room. โYou canโt do that.โ
โI can do whatever I please.โ The flickering of the oil lamp shadowed Elijahโs face, hollowing his cheeks. โI donโt want to see your face near Thorn Grove. Leave now, or Iโll call for the constable.โ
Marjorieโs chest caved in as though the wind had been knocked from her, and she scowled at Elijah as if he were the devil himself. โYouโre making a mistake.โ Marjorie spun to Signa, whose blood turned cold. โAndย you. Youโve no idea what youโre doing, child. You know nothing at all.โ
A young woman followed by Death didnโt easily feel fear. But in that moment, the feeling sank deep into Signaโs core, forcing goose bumps like a rash across her skin.
Fortunately, Marjorie was gone the next time she blinked.
The moment the door shut behind her, Elijahโs knees buckled. The sound that tore through him was warped and broken. It was enough to shatter Signaโs heart and make her hands ache to reach out to him, to tell him that all would be okay. Blythe had survived the latest attack of this poison, and soon it would be out of her system. But this level of heartbreak was something sheโd never experienced, and something that could never be put into
words. The man before her had shattered, and there was no picking up the pieces.
