Page 46

Stellan put one hand around my forearm and moved me a step back from the open door. The touch was firm and brief. He released me as soon as I was clear.

“The silver line around the frame is still,” he said. “That means the doorway is safe for now. The garden hasn’t decided what you are.”

Black vines covered the walls on the other side. Their thorns had turned in my direction, although none had crossed the narrow path. Red roses opened and closed slowly among the leaves, as if the whole garden were breathing.

A low wall divided the nearest beds. Past it, the path curved around a stone structure I couldn’t see clearly. Water ran somewhere in the dark.

“Why did it open?” I asked.

“Because you woke another part of Harrowmere. The royal garden was made for the crowned queen and her family. It hasn’t recognised anyone since Cecily died.”

He crouched beside the threshold and held his fingers over the silver line without touching it. The waist chain lay loose behind him.

“If we leave it?”

“It may close again. That wouldn’t hurt us tonight, but every room we can claim gives us more space when Adrian attacks. The garden also has its own water and an outer gate. I’d rather know which parts still work while we have time to be careful.”

He’d given me a reason to enter and hadn’t tried to rush me. I looked at the clear path again.

“What would careful look like?”

Stellan straightened. “You test the first step and wait. If the silver light stays still and the thorns remain in the beds, you can follow the path to the middle stone. Don’t touch a vine. Don’t cross any line that moves towards you. If anything changes, come straight back.”

“And you’ll be beside me?”

“I’ll try.”

His answer made me reach for the kitchen knife on the small table. I slid it into my coat pocket and buttoned the flap over the handle.

Stellan watched me do it. “Keep it. The blade won’t cut a ward, but it will cut an ordinary vine.”

“Are any of those ordinary?”

“The roses used to be. Harrowmere has had a difficult century.”

The dry answer loosened my grip on the knife. He didn’t add another, and we turned back to the doorway.

I put one boot on the silver path.

The nearest rose opened wide. Its petals were deep red, almost black at the edges. The thorns stayed where they were.

I waited until the silver light settled around my sole, then shifted my weight forwards. Nothing closed behind me.

Stellan stepped onto the path at my side.

The garden struck him.

Silver light snapped across his chest and threw him into the sitting room. The chain rang against the floor. I spun towards him but kept both feet inside the doorway.

He landed on one knee and caught himself against the wall. Smoke lifted from a new burn across his shirt.

“Stellan.”

“Stay still.” He looked at the path, then at the chain. “It wasn’t the restraint. The garden refused me.”

I stepped back into the sitting room. The silver light let me pass without a flicker.

His burn was already closing, but I put my fingers against the unbroken skin above it. “That was your attempt. We can close the door and try something else.”