“I haven’t forgotten what you did when we were children,” Ezra said, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “When that ugly cat of yours—”
“His name was Butters,” I cut in. “And he wasn’t ugly.”
Her brows lifted. “He looked like he crawled out of the depths of the Shadowlands.”
“There is no need to disparage Butters’ memory like that. He was just…” The tabby cat formed in my mind, complete with a half missing ear and patchy fur. “He was just different.”
“Different or not, you brought Butters back to life when he got into that poison. You touched him, and that cat sprang to life.”
“Only to die less than an hour later.”
“But that wasn’t because of you,” Ezra reminded me. “His second death had nothing to do with that.”
But hadn’t it?
I tried not to think of that night, of what’d happened when Tavius had gone to my mother to tell her what he’d seen me do. The Queen had promptly lost her ever-loving mind. Granted, I was sure discovering that your child had brought life back to a dead barn cat would be quite unsettling, but enough that she had ordered the cat to be captured and…?
Squeezing my eyes shut, I reopened them as Ezra said, “You can help her.”
I slowly shook my head. Marisol had always been kind to me. She was a good person. “Butters was a cat—”
“Have you done it since?” Ezra challenged. “Have you given life back to some poor creature since then? I’m sure you have, so don’t lie. You’ve always had a soft spot for animals. There’s no way you haven’t.”
I thought of the kiyou wolf.
“Have you tried it on a person?” Ezra asked.
Immediately, Odetta replaced the wolf. That was what I’d been about to do when she opened her eyes, but I’d been panicked then. I hadn’t been
thinking. I was thinking now.
“Ezra…” I loathed the mere idea of refusing her. She was family. The real kind that went beyond shared parents and even blood. On more than one occasion, she’d been there to shield me from Tavius’s barbed remarks when I’d been the Maiden and couldn’t talk back. It was always Ezra who stayed close to my side during the rare moments when we all gathered— like last night—so I didn’t look as awkward as I felt. She saw me as someone and not a thing. But bringing back a dead person?
“I haven’t tried it with a mortal,” I said.
“But you can at least try now, Sera. Please? There is no harm in trying,” she said. “If it doesn’t work, then I know…I’ll at least know we tried everything. And if it does? You will have used this gift you have to help someone deserving.” She carefully dabbed at the blood on Marisol’s neck. “And if it works, I’ll make sure she doesn’t realize how injured she was. No one but you and I have to know the truth.”
Pressure clamped down on my chest as I stared at Marisol. The chalky gray pallor of death hadn’t yet set in. The animals I’d brought back had all been normal afterward, living until fate or old age took them once more. But people had to be different.
“Please,” Ezra begged, and my heart squeezed. “Please help Mari. I can’t… You don’t understand.” Her voice cracked as she focused on Mari. “I just can’t lose her.”
The breath I drew hitched in my throat as I glanced between them. Things began to fall into place. The two had been close, from childhood and into adulthood. Marisol remained unmarried, and Ezra had shown no interest beyond courtesy in any of the numerous suitors who’d called upon her. I thought I might’ve just figured out why.
“Do you love her, Ezra?” I whispered.
My stepsister’s gaze lifted to mine, but there was no hesitation. “Yes. I love her very much.”
Love.
I wondered what it felt like to care for someone so deeply and completely that you would be willing to do anything for them. I’d barely felt anything beyond passing curiosity and lust, and the gods knew I’d tried to feel more—to want more and seize it. But nothing like that had ever sparked for those I met in the Garden District.
I had no idea how it felt to have that kind of love inside you. Was it as exhilarating as I believed it to be, or was it terrifying? Both? I knew it had to be miraculous. And I knew I couldn’t let Ezra lose that.
Cursing under my breath, I leaned forward. “I have no idea if this will work.”
“I know.” Her eyes met mine. “I wouldn’t ask this of you, but—”
“You love her, and you would do anything for her.” I knelt before Marisol’s legs, unable to believe that I was actually doing this.
“Yes,” she rasped.
I reached out, placing my hand on Marisol’s. Her skin already felt different due to the lack of pumping blood. I ignored the feeling as I curled my fingers around hers and did what I’d done before. It required no real concentration or technique. Warmth poured into my hands, causing them to tingle. Moving my eyes to Mari’s face, I simply wished that she was alive.
But there was no sign of life from Marisol.
I stretched up, placing my other hand on her cheek. Live. She should live. Like Ezra, she was actually helping the people of Lasania. She was good. Live.
Something happened then as another firework exploded in the distance.
With my touch.
I gasped. Or maybe it was Ezra. It could’ve been both of us at the sight of the faint whitish glow seeping out from under my skin and along the edges of my fingers.
“I don’t remember that happening with Butters,” Ezra whispered.
“It…it didn’t.” I watched with wide eyes as the silvery glow throbbed, sluicing over Marisol’s skin. The light…it was eather. The thing that had to fuel my gift. I had just never seen it coming from me before.
But still, nothing happened.
Sorrow for Ezra and Marisol started to creep into me, and the warmth dimmed in my hands, along with the faint radiance. “I’m sorry, Ezra, but
—”
Marisol’s fingers twitched against mine. Then her hand jerked. Her entire arm spasmed.
“It worked,” Ezra uttered hoarsely and then said louder, “Did it work?”
My gaze shot back to Marisol’s face. I swore the warm undertones had already returned to her skin, but it was hard to tell in the lamplight. I didn’t
dare speak, and in the farthest corners of my mind, I thought of the seamstress. What if she came back like that?
I probably should’ve thought of that beforehand.
Marisol’s eyelashes fluttered as her chest rose in a deep, sucking breath that ended in a hacking cough that rattled her entire body. I saw her teeth then. No fangs, thank the gods.
It’d worked.
Good gods, it’d actually worked.
Letting go of her fingers, I leaned back as I looked down at my hands. I lost my balance, falling onto my butt as Ezra clasped Marisol’s shoulder.
It’d worked.
A sudden breath of cold air touched the damp skin of my neck, causing my head to jerk up. A shiver crawled its way down my spine. I slipped my hand under my hair and clasped the back of my neck, feeling nothing but skin.
“Take a couple of deep breaths.” Ezra glanced at me, eyes shining before she shifted her focus back to Marisol. “How do you feel?”
“A little woozy. My head aches like it’s been trampled by horses.” Marisol frowned, turning toward Ezra. “But, otherwise, I feel fine. A bit confused, but did…did we retrieve the girl? Is she okay—?”
Ezra clasped Marisol’s cheeks and kissed her, silencing whatever she was about to say. And it was no friendly peck.
I guessed that cleared up any doubts about their relationship I might’ve had because it was the kind of kiss I’d read about in those books—the kind I had shared with Ash.
When they parted, there was a dazed sort of smile on Marisol’s face. “I have a…a strange feeling that I might’ve done something incredibly unwise.”
Ezra laughed hoarsely. “You? Do something unwise? Not this time.” She smoothed her thumbs over Marisol’s cheeks. “You were knocked aside. You hit your head.”
“I did?” She pressed a palm to her temple. “I don’t even remember falling.” She lowered her hand. “Sera?” A slight frown pinched her brow. “What are you doing here?”
“Ezra thought you died,” I said. “So, she brought you here so I could help bury you.”
“What?” she mumbled, looking at Ezra.
My stepsister laughed, idly rubbing Marisol’s palm between hers. “She’s being silly. I was bringing you to the family Healer when I ran into her. Right, Sera?”
“Right.” My hands were trembling, so I hid them under my legs. “But you’re okay, so I should go.”
“Okay.” Marisol smiled faintly at me. “Thank you for not burying me alive.”
I blinked as I rose to my feet. “You’re welcome.”
“You look nice, by the way,” Marisol said, looking up at me. “Beautiful, really. The surcoat. The color suits you.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, having forgotten that I had changed into that earlier. Turning, I dipped out the door of the carriage as white fireworks exploded.
Ezra followed in the flashes of the light. “I’ll be right back.”
“Not planning to go anywhere.” Marisol leaned back as she looked down at herself. “Gods, I’m filthy. What did I hit my head on? A pile of mud…?”
I hopped down and walked a few feet before stopping, the hem of the surcoat swishing around my knees. A jittery sort of warm energy filled me as Ezra stepped out, closing the door behind her.
“I really didn’t think it would work,” I began.
Crossing the distance between us, Ezra went to touch me but halted. “I want to hug you, but the blood—it will ruin your surcoat.” That was a sentence I never expected to hear from Ezra. “And it really is flattering on you.” She took a deep gulp of air. “Thank you. Gods, Sera, thank you. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
“You don’t need to repay me—well, you could by ensuring that she never finds out the truth.” I had no idea what Marisol would think if she knew. Would she be grateful? Or would she be confused? Scared, even? Angry?
“I will make sure she never knows,” she swore, and a moment passed. “You have no idea, do you?”
“No idea about what?”
“That what you just did is nothing short of a blessing.” She appeared as if she wished to shake me. “You’re a blessing, Sera. No matter what anyone says or believes, you are a blessing. You always have been. You need to know that.”
Feeling my cheeks warm, I started messing with the buttons on the lightweight coat. “My hands are special sometimes. That’s all.”
“It’s not your hands. It’s not even your gift, and that is what it is. A gift.
Not a failure. You’re not a failure.”
I drew in a shuddering breath that did nothing to ease the sudden burn in the back of my throat. I kept toying with the button. What she said…
I didn’t think she could understand how much those words meant to me. And I didn’t think I could acknowledge it because doing so meant acknowledging how much all the other words hurt.
“Sera,” Ezra whispered.
I cleared my throat. “You should probably get her checked out by the Healer. Maybe not tonight,” I said, quickly changing the subject. “In case there are still some signs of how serious her injury was. But she should be looked over.”
“I’ll make sure she is.”
I nodded and then peeked up at her. “Does your father or the Queen know about her? About you two?”
Ezra coughed out a laugh. “Absolutely not. If they did, the wedding would be planned before there was even an engagement.”
My lips twitched as I unfolded my arms. “And would that be so bad?
You love her.”
“And I…I think she loves me.” She dipped her chin, a half-grin forming. “But it’s still new. I mean, we’ve known each other our entire lives, but it’s not like either of us knew what we meant to each other the whole time. Or, at least, realized it. I don’t want the Crown involving themselves in it.”
“That’s understandable.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “You should get back in there.”
“I will.” She hesitated. “Why don’t you join us? While we’re getting cleaned up, I can have food sent to my chambers.”
“Thanks, but I think I’m going to head to bed soon.” I saw her throat work on a swallow. “You should get back in there with Marisol.”
Nodding, she started to turn but then stopped. She crossed the short distance between us and folded her arms around me.
I stiffened at first, shocked. She was touching me. She was hugging me, and I didn’t know how to respond to that for several seconds. My senses were overloaded as I lifted my arms and wrapped them around her,
returning the gesture stiffly. The hug felt awkward and strange…but then it felt like something wonderful.
Ezra embraced me—squeezed me tightly—and then let go. “I love you, Sera.”
Overwhelmed, I watched her step back and smile shakily. I stood there as she turned and made her way back to the carriage. I didn’t breathe until she was inside.
I swallowed thickly, briefly closing my eyes. “I love you, too,” I whispered.
Turning slowly, I hurried across the courtyard, away from my stepsister and the carriage—away from the first time someone had hugged me. And away from the cold kiss I felt against the nape of my neck, the dread that was steadily replacing all that warmth, settling like a stone in the center of my chest and warning me that I had crossed a line.
I had done as Odetta had warned. Played like a Primal.
