Page 62 of Lakesedge

“I’ll grant you this power to use at the ritual, on the next full moon. You’ll be able to cast the spell to mend the Corruption. Alone. Everyone will be safe.”

“That only gives me a single night.”

“That’s all you’ll need. Unless you desire more?” He grins, and I see the glint of too many teeth. There’s a hunger to him, the same dark eagerness that I’ve felt from the Corruption.

“No. One night will serve.” It’s such a short time to wield this power, but if I can cast the spell on the next full moon, it will be enough.

“Then it’s done,” he says. “All you have to do is tell me what you will give up in exchange.”

I look at him, startled by the sting of betrayal. A small,foolish part of me thought he would give this to me freely, because we’re connected, because I am special to him, because he just told me how much he needs me.

But I know, have always known, his help comes with a price. “What would you want from me?”

He laughs. “Do you really want me to set the terms? Go ahead. Promise that you’ll give meanything.”

“No,” I say quickly. “I’ll choose.”

“Go on, then.” His eyes flick to the altar. “I’ll want more than blood and fruit.”

I hesitate. WhatcanI give him? As I search for my answer, he reaches for me, claws scraping past my cheek. My breath catches. I falter back, but he moves forward. The edge of the chaise hits the back of my knees. I collapse onto it.

The light from my magic dances over him. I can see tiny details that I missed before. The branches that wreathe his head are woven with strands of lake grass. He has delicate eyelashes, like a fringe of lichen over stone.

If he can speak to me now, really speak to me, instead of whispers in the dark, will he be able to touch me, too?

I force myself to meet his gaze. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“A pity. I like your fear. It’s very sweet.” He smiles as he runs his tongue over the points of his teeth. His hand hovers just beside my jaw. “Now tell me your offer.”

I tip back my face for one desperate moment. I feel like I’m at the lake’s edge, the water before me—deep and dark and endless. With one word, I’ll plunge beneath the surface.

When I speak, my voice is rough. “I need more time to decide.”

His hand slips past me, only a stir of air, and my breath comes loose. He can’t touch me.

Then the power that flooded me only moments ago turns dim. Back to the faint, small remnants that I had before. With the strength gone, I feel hollow. My heart gives a single, desperate thump against my ribs.

There’s a sharpness in the Lord Under’s eyes. He goes over toward the altar. Touches the pomegranate. The tips of his claws pass right through the fruit, but the inside turns black, the smooth skin charred.

“So. You want more time.” He licks the juice from the edge of his thumb. “You may have until the night before the next full moon. Do you think we can come to an arrangement by then?”

I can’t do this.And yet the answer that sticks against my tongue is a desperateyes. I swallow it back. Hardly even dare to think it. “I do.”

“Very well.” His eyes go to my hand, still smeared with blood. “Let me see your cut.”

Shakily, I stretch out my hand to him. His claws scrape through the air above my bloodied palm. A cold shiver prickles over my skin. He makes a pleased sound as the wound closes into a dark crescent, then he touches his mouth. I look away quickly as I hear him swallow. I don’t want to see it—the stains of my blood across his sharp teeth.

“Goodbye for now, Violeta.” His mouth tilts into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I hope Rowan will have enough strength to keep the Corruption quieted while you make up your mind.”

The shadows around him start to clear from black to gray. His gaze is fixed to mine as a shaft of sun cuts through him. He hangs for a moment, suspended at the center of the paling dark.

His eyes are the last thing to fade. Hard as polished stones.

Chapter Eighteen

I crouch by the stove, the wood box pulled up close beside me. One by one, I feed pieces of kindling into the fire. They light slowly. Handfuls of smoke curl out before the flames lick up.

The new fire dances. I build it higher with more wood until there’s a bank of orange coals and the air shimmers with warmth. I feel the glow of the firelight. I see the flames. But inside I am as endlessly cold as the depths of the lake.

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