bChapter /bb202 /b

    bEryx /bPOV

    She doesn’t speak out loud at first. The sound goes through me more than it goes through the air. It makes my teeth ache and my grip on the cuffs tighten. “You brought iron this time,” she says, and my name sits inside her tone without her saying it. “Wise.”

    My father stops a half pace off my shoulder. His de is low and ready. My mother stays at the edge of the ring. She lifts her hands just enough to feel the seam of the seal without touching it. The guards fan to a wide arc. Garrick and Killian cover Helena, who hasn’t moved and looks like a statue would if you set it in wind.

    The Queen looks at each of us and then goes still on Helena. The way her gazends is weird. Not in a good way either. Something like pleasure bwarms /bthe wrong corners of her mouth.

    “You were quieter when you ran,” she says. This time she speaks outloud. The sound is beautiful but chilling as well and makes the hair on my arms blift/bb. /b“Thank you for opening the door.”

    Helena doesn’t step back. Her knuckles go white where her hands fist at her sides. “I didn’t call you,” she says. “I called something elseb./bb” /b

    The Queen smiles like a teacher humoring a child who drew the wrong letter. “Names don’t keep me out when the door is open. You set the bowl. You lit the wick. You gave me some powerful and beautiful blood. You saide. I came. Thank you.”

    My mother’s tone stays even. “You were sealed. Not destroyed. You’ll stay sealed.”

    The Queen’s eyes travel to my mother and the air cools. “You remember more than most. It won’t save you going forward.” Her attention returns to me and holds. I feel it in my ribs. “You smell like smoke. You know how to burn things clean.”

    “Stay where you are,” I say. My voice holds. “You can’t cross that line.”

    She looks down at the shimmer by her ankles as if someone spilled water on her skirts. She lifts her foot and puts it down within the circle again, unbothered, unhurried, and patient in a way I don’t like. “Not yet,” she says.

    My father doesn’t take his eyes off her. “We’re not here to bargain. We’re here to see what was done and close what can be closed.”

    “I like when you pretend you’re not curiousi,/ii” /ishe says with a warm littleugh. “You want to ask what I am. You want to ask what I want.”

    “I know what you are,” I say. “You’re a thief who learned how to make theft look like a ritual. You’re a queen because you stole crowns, not because they fit you. You were sealed because you wouldn’t stop. You’ll stay sealed because we won’t let you out.”

    Theughter slides across the space. It’s not anger but interest. “You’re young to talk like that. Who taught you to wake with your fists already closed.”

    “My parents,” I say. “Answer my mother.”

    Her gaze flicks to the ground where she stands, back to my mother. “Three knots,” my mother says, quiet and sure, her eyes on the ripple. “One broken. One fraying. One holds. Someone tied it right, a long time ago. Someone fed it wrongter.”

    Helena swallows. “I scattered salt. I set iron. I said the names. I didn’t feed it.”

    “You put my blood on it,” my mother says. It isn’t an usation. It’s a fact. “It was enough.”

    “It was only one drop,” Helena whispers.

    “One drop of pure and powerful blood is too much,” my father says.

    The Queen watches the hitnd and looks pleased by it. “They will forgive youter if you live. That’s the nice thing babout /bbwolves/b. bThey /bbwant /bbtheir /bfamilies and friends to still exist, even when they shouldn’t.b” /b

    “You talk too muchb,/bb” /bI say. “Who gave you a body. You didn’t do that aloneb./bb” /b

    “I took what waitedb,/bb” /bshe says. She looks at the trees like someone left bottles of light in their branches for her to spb. /bbGrief /band finger. iThe /iZeld bou under your soil. The songs the witches tried to forget but hummed anyway. You left me scraps. I made a meatb./bb” /b

    I feel the cuffs heat as my magic presses against the inside of my skin. I don’t let it slip. I don’t give her that. “You’re bound to this circle, I say. That str only part that matters today.”

    She tips her head. Her hair shifts like water. “Today,” she agrees, and it sounds like she’s tasting the word. “Bring me something better to fight. That would be kind.”

    “We’ll bring a lot,” my father says. “We’ll bring your weakness. We’ll bring witches who remember how to bird, not pretend. We’ll nt bnts /bthat starve you. We’ll close the leak you’re living in.”

    She smiles with her eyes closed, like she’s listening to music again. “You’ll tire.”

    “We’ll rotate,” my mother says. “That way no one gets tired.” She tips her chin at my father. “Believe me, I won’t and I don’t when I have to stay balert /b

    The Queen looks at me again, and the weight of that attention is a hand I want to break. “You’re still the one I like,” she says, light as anything. bYou /bstood in my dark and didn’t run. You came back in iron, weakened, bound and didn’t hide. Bring me a better cage. I’m bored of this circle.”

    “You should be scared of being bored,” I say. “Bored creatures make mistakes. Then we end them.”

    Sheughs like I told a good story. “Try.”

    Helena takes a careful breath. Her voice shakes anyway. “If I show you the marks I wrote, you can use them against her. If I find the pages, you can see what I copied wrong.”

    “You’ll show me everything you did,” my mother says. “You’ll tell me the truth when I ask.”

    “I will,” Helena says. She’s steady now, not because she’s brave, but because there’s nothing else to do.

    The Queen lifts her hand. There are scars across the palm, thin and white like lines cut with patience and purpose. Not her blood. Someone else’s. bMany /bsomeones. “Bring all your little knivesi,/ii” /ishe says, still amused. “Bring your clever girls and your iron weeds. I’ll still be here when your throats are tired and your eyes go cloudy. Thank you, Helena.”

    Helena goes smaller and doesn’t move. Garrick shifts to block more of her from view without making it obvious. Killian’s jaw works and then sets.

    I take ione /ilonger breath of the Hollow’s wrong air and let it out slow., “We got what we came for,” I say to my father, not looking away from the bQueen/b. “We know where she’s tied. We know how she pushes. We know the knots.”

    “We’re donei,/ii” /imy father says, and it’s not a question. He backs a step, de steady. The guards follow him. My mother draws her in tight with a turn of her fingers, threads whispering over dirt. I’m thest to shift my weight. The Queen’s eyes track me like a cat watching ba /bbird leave a windowsill.

    “Goodbye, Eryx Voss of Darkmooni,” /ishe says, the name full and clean in the air. “Thank your witch for my voice. I missed it, and thank you for giving me ess to your body whenever I want it.”

    I don’t answer. I step out of the ring’s weight and into air that’s still wrong but less pressing. The further we move from the ribsb, /bbthe /bmore the forest remembers what it’s supposed to sound like. It never goes back to normal. The Hollow doesn’t let things bgo /ball the way. It loosens bits /bhand ba /blittle and waits for your back to turn.

    We cross the edge together. The veil iepts /ius, and the wind remembers how to run in a straight line. Birds start up again somewherer off. bThe /bsmell of pinees back. The cuffs feel heavier now that the pressure isn’t crushing every spark I have.

    My father starts giving orders before anyone can speak. Stone. Iron. Warders. Runners to the coven in the south. No bone /bbgoes /bin alone. bNo /bbone /bbspeaks /bba /bpromise inside the line. No blood, No exceptions.

    My imother /istays by Helena until Garrick takes her toward the pack house. She’s gentle without being soft, because bsoftness /bbreaks bhere /bband /bbgentleness /bcan survive iti. /iKillian peels off to gather the kits we’ll need to mark and measure. Two more guards strip branches bto /bbstake /bbthe /bbnew /bbboundary/b. bEveryone /bmoves like they’ve done this forever, which is a lie we tell ourselves to make hard work easier.

    b13:06 /bSun 17 bAug /b0

    I blook /bback bat /bthe btrees /bthat hide the ribs. My wrists ache inside the iron. I keep them bon/bb. /bbI’m /bnot arrogant benough /bbto /bbpretend /bI bcan /boutthink, m bspent /bcenturies figuring out how to climb inside people. I feel her attention like a cold thumb against the back of bmy /bneck beven /bbout /bhere it teeth grit. It makes me want to run back and throw fire until I hit bone. That’s exactly what she wants. So I don’t.

    I turn toward the pack house and start walking. We’lly stone. We’ll nt ironweed. We’ll pull old songs from old throats band /bmake them bwork /bareail bWe’ll /bstarve her circle. We’ll make it smaller. We’ll make it hold.

    bShe /bthanked Helena like a gracious guest. We’ll make her swallow that thank you and choke ori it.

    ?

    口R