“My ancestors came from the Penery Islands, to the west. They arrived on these shores back when this land was still part of Ilara and began a small settlement. These trees are all that remain of them.”

I followed her into the clearing. “What do you mean?”

“Just like your blood coral, the bone trees grew from the bodies of my ancestors. When I die, I will be buried here, and my bones will nourish the roots of a new tree. The last tree, unless I choose to have a child someday.” She placed her hands on the nearest trunk and looked up at the bare branches. “They flowered, once upon a time. The fruit was poisonous, if eaten straight, but the seeds could be made into teas and elixirs with healing properties, just like your pearls.”

“Why did they stop blooming?” I asked. The wind picked up, and the branches rattling overhead sounded eerily like dried bones. A chill ran through my body, and I suddenly had the feeling we were in the presence of spirits.

“When the Galethians came, they drove my ancestors out of the region, back to the islands where they’d come from. A few stayed, but it wasn’t enough to sustain the grove.”

“You said Roan’s mother was a healer as well. Does that mean he shares your ancestry?”

“Only on his mother’s side.” She sat beneath the trees, finding a space for herself amid the roots, as if she already longed to be among them.

I stayed where I was, in the space between the forest and the grove. “If the Galethians were Varenians once, then what happens when they bury their dead? Do they grow some other kind of tree?”

She smiled sadly and looked up, past the branches into the sky. “The Galethians don’t bury their dead, Nor. They burn them.”

Her words sent another chill through me. “And the ashes?”

“Scattered on the wind.”

“Meaning they don’t return to the earth.”

Adriel’s eyes were shiny with tears. “And the cycle of magic—nature, whatever you want to call it—is broken.”

I could tell she considered this a genuine tragedy, and under other circumstances I would have agreed. But if the Ilarean royals really were linked to the bloodstones the way Varenians were linked to the pearls, then it might mean there was a way to break that cycle as well. Without the blood of a royal, the stones would lose their power.

And there was only one full-blooded Ilarean royal left: Ceren.

* * *

That night, I lay awake in my new bed in the little workshop, which Adriel had cleaned up for me, despite my protests. I liked the smell of the herbs, the books and crystals and even the cat, whose name I had learned was Fox (short for foxglove, a flower that Adriel said could either be medicinal or poisonous depending how it was used). Fox had come to sleep at the foot of my bed, curled up and making a strange rumbling sound that Adriel called purring. She assured me it meant he liked me, but I had my doubts.

I opened the book Adriel had given me, the one with the bone tree on the cover. It had come from her ancestors, she said, passed down through generations, and might help me to understand the connection between blood and nature. Though, she warned me, the language was deliberately confusing and arcane to prevent anyone who wasn’t a witch from using it, and she had given up on it long ago.

“Be careful,” she had warned before retiring for the evening. “Blood magic is—”

“Messy,” I’d finished for her. “I’m not planning on doing any, I promise.”

She had smiled, lingering in the doorway for a moment as if there was something more she wanted to say. I had breathed a sigh of relief when she’d turned and closed the door behind her.

But she hadn’t been wrong about the book being confusing. I hadn’t made it more than two pages before I was lost among the words, rereading the same lines several times before giving up and moving on. The writer used tall, narrow script, so uniform that as my eyes grew tired, the letters all began to bleed together, making it difficult to discern an L from an I and a U from a V. After a while, I started to wonder if the letters were actually rearranging themselves on purpose to trick me.

I set the book aside, still not sleepy, and forced myself to close my eyes. My thoughts turned instantly to Zadie. I didn’t like being away from her after everything I’d been through to get back to her, but I knew I’d done the right thing in giving her and Sami space. Something told me that they would soon cross the line to lovers, marriage or no marriage. The thought was oddly painful, a deep ache in my chest. I was happy for them, but I couldn’t help feeling like I was being left behind, that Zadie was moving past me into something that I might never be able to understand.

And there was something about Galeth that didn’t feel right to me. Not dangerous, per se, but almost as if it were a bit rotten around the edges, like a seaflower beginning to wilt. I admired the true equality of its citizens, how much freedom women had in choosing their own paths, though even that was something of an illusion. Otherwise, Adriel would not be an outcast, something I could empathize with all too well. And while passing down leadership through the father the way we did in Varenia or Ilara had always seemed arbitrary and unwise, being the strongest rider in your region didn’t seem to be the best qualifier, either.

My restless thoughts turned to Talin, who was probably sound asleep after a hard day of riding. He wouldn’t mind sleeping in a barracks with other soldiers. He’d had his own living quarters at Old Castle, but he never put himself above his men, other than to lead them. While Ceren believed the throne was his by right and anyone standing in his way was merely an obstacle, Talin followed a moral compass that pointed due north.

I wished he was with me. Another squall had rolled in, and a sudden burst of rain pelted the windows, making Fox sit up. Lightning flashed somewhere in the distance, followed several heartbeats later by the sound of thunder. The candle had burned down, and the total darkness reminded me too much of the New Castle dungeon.

I was used to storms since I grew up at sea. Once, a massive wave had nearly taken off our entire roof. Some of our belongings had washed away, and other families had lost their boats and docks. I wasn’t nearly as vulnerable on land, I reminded myself.

Then a burst of lightning came at the same time as the loudest clap of thunder I’d ever heard, and I sat bolt upright, sending Fox darting into the shadows. Heart pounding, I was half tempted to run to Adriel. She was probably used to this, living out here all alone. I could feel an all-too-familiar tightening in my chest, the kind that would normally be quelled by submerging myself in water. But I wasn’t going to get that now.

Without thinking, I flew out of bed, pulled on my riding boots, and sprinted out into the rain in my shift. I thought perhaps just being outside would release some of my rising panic, but it was the movement that seemed to help, strangely. I was strong from riding, and though my boots weren’t designed for it and my shift was soaked through and clinging to me, I found that running came easily.