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“What about her?”
“How will I get her away from Mace if I’m here breaking the shield?”
Plume puts her hand on my shoulder, commanding my attention. “You wouldn’t, Zeph. We’d have to let Mace get her and deal with that later. If we want to give the humans any chance at getting into the city so we can tell them what is really going on, we have to take it.”
I am overcome with desperation. I cannot let Mace have her. Everything in my body screams that I need her. “We cannot let her fall to him,” I say quietly, pleadingly.
Nimh reaches out, snaking her hand into mine. “Zeph, you cannot save everyone. I don’t want Mace to have access to a Winter any more than you do. Sometimes, you must sacrifice the one for the many.”
Fear and anger grip my chest, threatening to burst. “We cannot sacrifice her! If he tries to harness her power, she could die. She clearly has no control over it. It killed her best friend!” I give a gesture of finality with my hands, punctuating my thoughts.
Confused looks flash across the faces of the only three people I can reveal this to. “She didn’t get Max killed. Max fell,” Nimh says quietly.
I shake my head, stepping away from the women who flank me. “No, that’s the thing. Stone and Mace mentioned curse magic. I thought that was them grappling to see what they wanted to see.” I take a deep breath, picking at the skin around my nails. “And then Viola said, ‘We had a deal’ before Max climbed up the mountain, and Max said it was broken. And she fell.”
Loris inhales sharply and turns me to face him. “You’re sure that’s what the women said?” he asks frantically, grabbing me by the shoulders.
I nod rapidly. “I’m positive.” He swears under his breath and lets me go, resuming his frantic pacing.
“What’s gotten into you, Loris?” Plume asks, confusion lacing her tone.
“I have studied the Seasonale and Gods my whole life,” Loris says, not looking at any of us. I’ve never seen him agitated like this. “Himureal could trick people into bonds with him. It was called Soulbinding. He could tie their souls to his with promises. There was no ritual, no consent, only his intention. If someone promised him something, he could ensnare them.”
“That makes sense then if Viola is a Winter. That must’ve been what happened to Max.”
Loris stops pacing, fixing me with a brutal stare. “You misunderstand me, Zeph. Himureal could do it. Not Winters.”
I take a moment to process what he’s saying. Plume and Nimh share a look that must mirror mine, a confused sort of horror. “What are you saying, Loris?” Nimh whispers, her voice like a mist of rain on the wind.
“I’m saying she’s not a Winter. I’m saying she’s a God.”
Chapter 24
Viola
“Viola,snapoutofit. We have to get out of here.”
Tulip’s voice is underwater, barely audible over the rushing in my ears. I turn to look at her, struggling to get her beautiful and dirty face into focus.
“What?”
The hot summer sun casts brutal brightness across the tear tracks on her cheeks. She’s nearly chewed a hole in her lip. Her chest is splotchy and red underneath her tattered pink blouse. Is that what I look like?
I reach to wipe tears from my face and find my skin dry. I look at my hands, but it’s like they belong to another. They’re shaking, clenched tightly in fists.
“This is my fault, Viola.”
My eyes snap up to Tulip, momentarily shaking me out of whatever trance I’m in with her words. When I respond, my throat feels scratchy, like it’s gone unused for decades. “No, it’s not, Tulip. How could you think that?”
She casts her eyes down as tears threaten to spill again. Maybe they never stopped. “I’m the one who suggested the elevator, and that’s what split us off. Or maybe it’s me joining up with you two at all. Either way, it comes back to me.”
This young woman has endured so much in so few days. Seeing her beat herself up like this snaps something in my chest. I push my grief down, burying it beneath a layer of denial to unearth later. Maybe the pressure of my refutation will turn it into something beautiful and valuable.
It seems unlikely.
“Tulip, it was an accident. A brutal, horrific accident. But an accident all the same.”
Something churns in my gut, my body protesting against my proclamation. Every part of me longs to take the blame, the credit, for her death. I shake my head, trying to dislodge those disconcerting feelings from my brain.
