When I opened Mama’s sewing basket, I couldn’t find what I needed. The yarn she had was far too thick, and there was no thread to be found. Where could she have put it? Growing frustrated, I dumped the basket out on the floor, grateful for the full moon’s light.

“Really, Mama?” I muttered, growing more irritated by the minute. Cy’s footsteps on the stairs announced his presence, but I didn’t look at him yet. I knew it wasn’t intentional, and I didn’t want to take it out on him. “Where is the thread?”

“Elora, I’m sorry. But I just realized?—”

“I can’t find the blasted thread.”

The hot splash of a tear on my cheek made me realize just how close I was to a breakdown. I couldn’t let Cyran see it; it was silly to cry over a bracelet. It wouldn’t bring my friend back. I hadn’t even thought of it since Theo’s death, but the moment Cyran picked it up, it became one of my most prized possessions. And now it was ruined.

“We could wrap them in cloth?—”

“Where did she put the thread?” I groaned, before tossing everything back where it belonged, placing the beads on the side table for safe keeping.

“Is there somewhere else she would have kept it?” Cyran sounded just as worried as I did, and I was grateful he understood how important this was to me. Was I mad for being so upset? Perhaps. But nothing made sense to me anymore. Everything made me angry or despondent. There was no reason for any of my emotions.

“Twine!” I exclaimed, thinking that it might be fine enough for the beads to thread onto. “We tied up the moonvine last summer so it would grow up the trellis.”

Determined, I marched to the front flower bed—only to find that Mama had trimmed the twine after the moonvine had been trained. I wished the blooms were open, and that summer had returned once more, but the dark green leaves merely taunted me with their well-behaved climbing.

“I hate you, Mama!” I shouted at the house, at the sky, at my mother who was so far away she’d never hear me. Logically, I knew this wasn’t her fault either. But everything to do with the loss of my friend came back to her, didn’t it? If Theo hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have cared so much about the bracelet breaking. And even in this one small thing which would help make up for it, she failed me.

Blowing a breath through my collapsing lungs, I tore at the moonvine she had meticulously trained. I ripped and tugged and destroyed, and I knew I probably looked frightful, but I didn’t care. I was angry. This was all Mama’s fault.

“Elora, stop.”

Cyran’s voice didn’t faze me, and I continued to pull at the vine, ripping it free from the trellis. The plant was stubborn, and its thorns were unyielding as I ripped the twisting grip of the vine free. Cyran watched me silently, and when tears tracked down my face, he said nothing. Truthfully, I didn’t know if I could stop if I tried.

“This won’t bring him back.”

“I know.”

“Elora, you have to stop.”

“No.”

Cyran sighed, and I stood to wipe sweat off my brow. He crossed his arms and pursed his lips as he looked down at me from the porch.

“Declan used to jest about me being the lesser bane of his existence. I didn’t understand it—not until now.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, not sure how any of this was remotely relevant while I was having a breakdown about my dead friend.

“He thought your aunt was the Beloved, and he was the Accursed. So he killed her—well my father did. I think they were the ones who took her bones.”

He slowly moved down the steps toward me, and I let the vine in my hands fall.

“He was asking for your mother’s blood that day he attacked us, remember? Blood of the Beloved?”

I simply blinked at him.

“The bone of the bane. Declan must have thought the prophecy meanthisbane. His enemy. Not the bane of the gods, but the bane of the summoner.”

“He was trying to request a favor?” I asked, finally understanding what Cyran was saying. Cy settled down on the porch steps, long legs stretched out in front of him. He wiped a hand over his forehead, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

“He must have known something me and Reminy haven’t figured out yet. Your parents will need someone’s bones to summon a god.”

My heart thundered in my chest, and I took a step closer to Cy. My simmering rage toward my mother was forgotten and replaced with worry. “I don’t know if it will be as easy as robbing a grave for them. Unless you think Declan’s bones might suffice?”

“Hard to be a bane of someone’s existence when you’re dead, I’d think, especially since there are far more threatening enemies. Although, if anyone could, it would be my brother.” Cyran held out his hand, letting me see the beads resting in his palm. “I found more. I’m very sorry,min viltasma. Truly, I didn’t mean to drop the bracelet.”