“Girl!” Her voice was harsh and desperate. “Tell me what you know. You wrote him into the curse.” “I told you I didn’t,” I snapped. “I’m the fifth storyteller.” The final storyteller. Every tale came from a different song, a different purpose, and different path. Deep inside I knew it, but how would I explain it to my Kind Heart when I wasn’t positive I understood it all myself? “And the first four—dead.”
