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To the quiet girls with stories in their heads. To their dreams—and their nightmares.
My magic moves, he said. My magic bites. My magic soothes. My magic frights. You are young and not so bold. I am unflinching—five hundred years old.
The twelve call for each other when the shadows grow long— When the days are cut short and the Spirit is strong. They call for the Deck and the Deck calls them back. Unite us, they say, and we’ll cast out the black. At the King’s namesake tree, with the black blood of salt, All twelve shall, together, bring sickness to halt. They’ll lighten the mist from mountain to sea. New beginnings—new ends… But nothing comes free.
“There once was a girl,” he murmured, “clever and good, who tarried in shadow in the depths of the wood. There also was a King—a shepherd by his crook, who reigned over magic and wrote the old book. The two were together, so the two were the same: “The girl, the King… and the monster they became.”
He watched me, something I could not read flashing in his gray eyes. “No, Miss Spindle,” he said. “I’m not nice at all.”
“I resisted, Elspeth, because I was already imagining how I might press my finger against your wet lips again, like I had in my room.” He took in a breath, his mouth dropping to my ear. “And that was nothing to the wicked things I was imagining after we argued in the garden.”
“It’s not safe to draw too close to me. I’m a liar, Elspeth. A traitor. And someday, there will be a reckoning.” He pulled back, his gray eyes tight with strain. “The highwayman meets the hangman. Always.”
“It is not they who bring the reckoning, Ravyn. It is you. It is us.”
Life had sheltered them, like pearls kept in a velvet pouch. And I—I was not made of pearls. I was made of salt.
There was a line between us, drawn by fate and magic, that stretched out over space and time. Ravyn and I had walked that line our entire lives, unaware we were headed straight for each other.
“Are you still pretending?” I said, reveling in his gaze. Ravyn gave a surprised laugh and, in front of everyone, leaned in and kissed me. “I never was,” he whispered into my lips.
“Be safe,” I whispered to the wind as Ravyn Yew disappeared beyond the gate. Had I known they’d be the last words I’d say to him aloud, I might have chosen them differently.
