The leaf touched the grass and curled into gray ash. Duncan looked to where the flash of light had been, and his heart slowed as his body began to die.
A SENSE of urgency shoved at Evina and left her body tense with unease. She sat forward with such suddenness, the image of her red-haired sister shuddered in the water and disappeared.
“What is it?” Sorcha asked.
Evina shook her head. “Something doesn’t feel right.” Hours had passed since she’d arrived. Which meant many days had passed in the real world. But how many?
Sorcha froze and let her wide gaze scan the area. “Nothing seems off to me,” she whispered.
Evina shook her head, but the ominous press did not abate. “Mayhap Morrigan is close?”
Sorcha smiled a wide, earnest grin. “Ye willna sense any unease when ye’re with our mother. She will make ye feel like yer insides shine with love. It’s why she keeps us here, ye know, to protect us from the curse until we’re at least fifteen. When we can better protect ourselves from what it might be.”
“But what about me?” Evina asked.
Sorcha’s mouth twisted into a regretful frown. “I was a babe when ye left. From what I understand of how it’s told, ye wanted to see yer da. I heard he was a great warrior. The Shadows tried to take ye, but he saved ye and begged Morrigan with his dying breath to clean yer memory so ye wouldna know who ye were. Otherwise The Shadows would have read yer thoughts and realized who ye were.”
“The Shadows?” Evina repeated.
“Aye, The Shadows.” Sorcha’s eyes went wide with dramatic emphasis. “It’s another reason Morrigan keeps us here. They seek the souls of the Gods’ children. Before we turn fifteen, we are too weak to defend ourselves. After we are of age and released, they dinna try to attack anymore as they know they’ll die for their efforts.”
Evina’s mind swirled with what she’d been told. Her father had died to protect her. Why had she left in the first place? Who had he been? “But my father wasn’t a child of one of the Gods, was he?”
“Nay, but a man canna take on The Shadows and live. And they dinna attack men, unless he stands in the way of what they want.” Sorcha pointed at her hip. “I like yer dagger. It’s verra pretty.”
Absently, Evina pulled it from the sheath and handed it to the girl. Sorcha ran her fingers over the intricate scrolling branch and leaf pattern over the hilt. “This is enchanted by the forest.” She closed her eyes and smiled. “It hums with magic.”
“What do I do to break the curse?” Evina asked. “I want to remember my father, this place, everything.”
Sorcha opened her eyes and lifted the dagger to Evina to return it to her, hilt facing out. Evina shook her head. “Keep it. A thank ye for what ye’ve told me. It’s far more than I’ve gleaned in my entire life.”
The girl hugged the flat of the blade against her small chest. “The only way to break the curse is to sacrifice something great.”
Evina shook her head. “Something great? Do ye mean jewelry or coin?”
Sorcha tenderly tucked the dagger into a small belted purse at her side. “It’s different for every sister, just as our curses are. We dinna know what is required until it is paid.”
A raven settled on a rock nearby. Its wings flapped out and it gave a rasping cry. Several more crows descended from the sky, gracefully landing in the soft grass and surrounding stones and trees.
Sorcha lifted her face to the sky with the relishing joy one looks to the sun for its warmth and light. “Our mother is coming.”
Panic fluttered in Evina’s chest. “I have nothing to give to break the curse.”
Sorcha quickly drew the blade from her pouch and handed it to Evina. Still, Evina shook her head. “Nay, that was a gift. I’ll no’ take it back. And it held no special meaning to me.”
“Perhaps it’s another thing.” Sorcha looked up at the cloud of flapping black wings drawing nearer and nearer. “Mayhap ye’ve already sacrificed it.”
Evina frowned. What had she had that might have already been sacrificed? What did she cherish enough to make a worthy gift?
The ring, perhaps? The one she’d thought was her father’s all those years, but which truly belonged to Duncan.
Duncan.
Her blood chilled.
A flood of memories poured over her. His inability to give her the full details of his enchantment, the way he’d argued with Gillespie to tell her of Morrigan’s secret place when the servant so clearly had not wanted him to, the way he’d looked at her as if he’d never see her again. How he’d screamed his love for her with such longing, such pain.
Gillespie had told him he should have left the castle more. It had confused her then because he’d been cursed to not leave, but now she understood - they’d lied to her about what the witch had said.
The rowan tree. The leaves that fell and never grew back. Duncan watched it often. And his anger, the blind, mad fury exploding from her when she’d pulled a leaf from a branch.
Oh God. Duncan.
She had sacrificed Duncan.
“Evina, what is it, sister?” Sorcha put her hands to Evina’s cheeks. Evina had fallen to her knees in the soft grass.
The dry flick of wings and scoring cries of the crows raked into her brain.
“I have to leave,” Evina gasped.
Sorcha pointed at the cloud of birds now almost completely overhead. “Now? Our mother is nearly here.”
Evina’s eyes burned with tears. “Now.”
Sorcha lowered her dark gaze to meet Evina’s, her small face solemn with a wisdom far beyond her scant years. “Ye canna come back again once ye leave. This will be yer only chance to meet our mother, to learn who ye are. Ye’ve been lost for so long…”
A sob choked from the tightness of Evina’s throat. “I canna…I believe I know the sacrifice and I canna bear to lose
