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That’s the only thought in my mind as I slip from the stairs of the dark basement, seeking the warm summer light to calm me. It’s pushing out any other thought I have. I know in my bones that I cannot let Viola fall into Mace and Stone’s hands.
Stone.
Stone is the figure that has been plotting with Mace this whole time.
How could he? How could he keep this from me?
I don’t have time to process the impact of that betrayal. I must figure out how to get to Viola before Mace does. If she truly is a Winter Seasonale, she is as valuable a weapon as I have ever seen.
I start to dissect everything I’ve seen from Viola over the past few days through the connection, and pieces start to fall into place.
When she spilled Amio’s blood, something awoke in her. It was plain to see. She handled him and his death as if something inside her had finally spread its wings.
No one knows the extent of blood magic Winters are capable - how could we? To my knowledge, there hasn’t been a practitioner of it in living memory, and we have only one book on it. But if I assume for even a moment that she has it, she is carrying a power blessed by Himureal himself.
Then there are the shadows. She may have pulled a feather to conjure them in the fight with the Wendigo, but they came fromher. They erupted from her body, and she had dominion over them.
Fuck.
The pieces click into place, solving a puzzle I didn’t know I started.
Viola Mistflow is a Winter Seasonale.
Viola Mistflow is the last Winter Seasonale.
And Mace Nightroot is about to have her in his possession unless I can stop him.
After catching Plume, Loris, and Nimh up on what happened in the basement and with Viola, they stare at me, gaping.
“I’m sorry, what?” Plume says, shaking her head. “There’s no way - she’s a human. She cannot be a Seasonale - it doesn’t make sense. We would’ve seen it before now.” Loris, oddly silent, holds his face deep in concentration.
We’re standing in a small corner of the courtyard behind the Palace. The sun is recharging me, the incessant buzzing of my power beneath my skin calming with its rays. The beautiful day is harshed by the revelation of Mace’s plans and Stone’s betrayal.
Nimh is wracked with sadness. “A Winter…” she sighs, wrapping her delicate tawny arms around her chest. “I can kiss Nereids becoming a Seasonale goodbye, then.”
Loris snaps his head up, concentration breaking. “THAT is your reaction to this, Nimh? Everything Zeph just told us, and you’re concerned about your political standing?”
She rises to her full height, which isn’t saying much. She’s barely past Loris’ naval. “Yes, that’s what I’m concerned about. I have my people to think of. With a Winter in play, the loyalty of Water can go to either Winter or Summer. This means we will be divided as a group because even within us, we have our own theories. We cannot guarantee that they will make the correct choice.”
“What even is the correct choice?” Plume says, barely above a whisper. Her shoulders are slumped, and she looks around the group pleadingly.
“Obviously, with Summer,” I interject. Nimh shoots me a glare.
“Viola Mistflow is an unknown with already questionable morals. If Mace gets his hands on her, we cannot be certain if her decisions will be the right ones,” I implore my friends. While what I say is true, I work to disguise my true motivations towards the woman.
Loris is pacing now, running his hands through his hair. It’s sticking up, looking like he touched the lightning he so often wields. I swear, occasionally, I see sparkling power running under his skin. “I’ve almost got enough Bliksem’s support to cut the grid, darkening Ytopie.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You’re going to throw Ytopie into darkness?” This is news to me.
He nods curtly. “If you drop the shield at the same time, the Racers can rush the city from the arena. Plume can block exits with vegetation.”
I’m slack-jawed, in awe of Loris’ plan. “Wow… that’s a really great plan.”
He shrugs, his cheeks tinging pink. “Thanks. But it all hinges on you getting the shield down. You’re the only Summer powerful enough to do it alone.”
He’s not wrong. Just as Mace is the strongest Autumn, I am far above the strongest Summer. But if I am dropping the shield…
“What about Viola?” I ask, locking eyes with Loris.
