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of Lavender House in a fog. Even the patrons are skittish and avoid eye contact. Many of mine don’t show.

With nothing to do, I ricochet around my Lair, biting my nails to bits as I count the hours until nightfall, when Mistress Lavender takes the Graces with her to a party given at another house. After what happened yesterday, I can’t imagine that it will be much more than dull-eyed Graces drinking away the blood-soaked memories.

But the trial will soon be behind me. When I first began cursing items for the king, it was easy to convince myself that it was his hand committing the violence. The same way that it’s my patrons who decide how to use the elixirs I craft for them. But watching my curse used against Narcisse, her stiff, splayed limbs and silver blood pooling beneath her…I can no longer deny my own responsibility.

There is only one thing to be done.

Once I’m sure the house is empty, I gather the largest, strongest sack I can find, race up to my room, and throw in what meager belongings I care about. A few spare, worn dresses. An extra cloak. Then I’m back in my Lair, shoveling all my earnings from my safe into the sack—years’ worth of gold, plus the king’s commissions. When I toss the last coin in, the damn sack is so heavy I cannot lift it. I Shift, sending strength into my back and shoulders and arms. The muscles grow hot, stretching and expanding and bulging against the fabric of my dress. When I’m done, the sack is as light as a pillow. I sling it onto one shoulder, then take Callow from her perch and settle her on the other. Her anxious talons dig into my flesh.

I creep around the back of the kitchen and through the side gate, my hood close around my face as I tear through the Grace District, dodging late-night deliveries and irritable carriage drivers. The oil lamps are lit, casting slick pools of light on the cobbled streets. My skin itches, instinct begging me to Shift to invisibility. But I don’t think I could manage such a difficult Shift the whole way to the tower. And it would make me even more conspicuous—my sack and Callow floating in midair. So I settle on my beggar woman disguise, spine protesting as it hunches under the heavy sack.

I look back only once, when I pass through Briar’s main gates for the last time. The moon tonight is high and full, bathing the Grace District in its ethereal light. The shadow of the palace falls hard on its rooftops. Torchlight flickers over the openmouthed dragon gargoyles perched on the palace’s eaves and ripples over stained-glass windows. One of them is Aurora’s.

My heart stutters, urging me for the first time away from this plan. I’d written her a dozen notes, tossing each one into the fire when my nerve failed. I can’t explain to her why I’m leaving—that I’m little better than the Briar King’s minion. That he will require worse from me, and I’ll have little choice but to comply. Aurora would hate me. Coward that I am, I can’t stomach the thought.

Callow ruffles her wings against my cheek.

It isn’t safe for us here anymore.

But I whisper a vow that I will return when Aurora is queen. When things are different.

—

The tower is easy to spot, jutting up against the obsidian of the calm sea. My heart beats faster with every step. Knowing that what I’m about to do will change my life forever.

Moonlight streams through the gap in the wall, glinting off bits of broken stone in the staircase. The tattered banners billow and sigh in the night breeze like wraiths.

The darkness undulates and Kal materializes, his worried gaze divided between Callow and the sack I dump unceremoniously on the ground. “What is this?”

“We have to leave Briar.” I let my Shift fade away and relax back to my true form, muscles cooling and skin shrinking. “Tell me how to break your bonds.”

Kal can only stare. His shadow chains move at haphazard angles. “What happened?”

Quickly, I fill him in on Narcisse’s trial and the shackle I cursed, one eye on the entrance to the tower as I do. Part of me believes Endlewild or the king’s guard will storm in at any moment and drag me back to the castle to execute me or lock me in a cell. But there is only the lapping of waves on stone. The brine-stained, wintry kiss of the night.

“I thought I understood what I was doing. But I didn’t expect…I didn’t know—”

“There is no need to explain.” Kal’s shadows coil into him. He pauses, looking out at the clear, star-crusted night sky. “And I agree. The king’s requests will only worsen. I do not want him thinking you are a pawn he can control. But are you certain this is what you want? The last time we spoke it seemed—”

“No.” I cut him off so suddenly that Callow clacks her annoyance. “It’s time. I have enough gold for us to board the next ship out. The only thing left is to break your bindings—if I can.”

He closes the distance between us. “You already know what to do.”

“Can’t you tell me anything more than that?”

But that infuriating stillness engulfs him again. His lips mash together until they’re bloodless.

“Of course you can’t,” I mutter, raking my hands through my hair in frustration. “What kind of prison would it be if you could tell someone how to free you?”

I begin to pace back and forth, wracking my mind for what I know about Kal’s past and his bindings. As if they know they’re the subject of scrutiny, the dark tendrils curve and wend in a macabre dance around his body. My magic strains in its cage, aching to tear them to pieces. Grind them to dust.

I wheel to a halt, upsetting Callow.

Perhaps I can do just that.

The enchantment is bred from magic. And I can

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