The Rose Master

by Valentina Cano

  Lily’s crystalline eyes seemed to glow as she watched me. “I would like to show you something, Anne. The truth August has so carefully tucked away from you. Since you won’t outlive this night, probably not even this hour, this will be the only chance I have to show you what kind of man he really is.”

  She lifted her arms, her gown’s fabric shining in the candlelight, and clapped her hands together. When she separated them, an orb so bright it seemed to burn my eyes hovered above her palms.

  “Look,” she said.

  I tried to look away, anywhere but the orb, but it was impossible. The light called to me, and I obeyed.

  Everything around me was disappearing, just as it had when I’d looked into August’s mirror.

  How long I fell was impossible for me to know, but I finally crashed into the ground, my hands braced to keep my head from hitting the hard floor.

  I groaned.

  Dark, velvet-thick laughter surrounded me as I tried to stand. I was in Rosewood’s sitting room, or at least, I thought I was, because the walls twisted, darkening and brightening, the furniture changing position each time I looked away. Was this what it was like in Lily Bellingham’s head?

  “August, what is the matter?” Her voice came from somewhere in the room around me, though it kept moving as much as the furniture. I narrowed my eyes against the pulsing darkness and was finally able to make out two figures sitting on a sofa. Even if she hadn’t spoken his name, I could have recognized that thin silhouette anywhere.

  Using a side table that I hoped wouldn’t decide to scurry away, I pulled myself to my feet. My hand brushed something soft and I looked down. It was the sleeping gown, the one August had given me to wear, carefully folded in an opened box that wavered in and out of focus, as if her mind couldn’t quite remember what it had looked like.

  “August, please,” Lily said.

  “There’s nothing more to say, Lily. I cannot offer you anything, certainly not what you assumed I meant when I asked you to come to Rosewood for the summer. I cannot marry you. I don’t even love you.”

  My eyes widened.

  The room’s walls turned a dark red, as if they had been painted with blood, and the air became even colder than it had been. A whimper stained the stillness.

  This couldn’t be normal. Lily’s head was wrong, her memories twisted by anger, perhaps even by madness.

  “But I thought you did, August. I thought we were meant to be together. All that time we spent speaking of magic, of our futures here in Rosewood.”

  “I am sorry if I misled you. I enjoyed our conversations, but they did not mean as much to me as you thought they did. We are friends, nothing more.”

  There was a growl from somewhere nearby.

  “You used me,” Lily said. Her voice held no expression.

  “I did not mean to.”

  “You befriended me to remain in good standing with my father. To move up the ranks of magicians.”

  “I admit it may have started that way, but that’s no longer the case. I consider you a friend.”

  “Liar.”

  August sighed and said again, “I am sorry if I’ve misled you.”

  She shook her head, and though I couldn’t see her face, I knew, by the room’s sudden shaking, that she was laughing.

  “Oh, August,” she said. “You are not sorry. But you will be. I promise you.”

  Icy hands gripped my hair and pulled me through the dark room, flinging me back into the present, where Lily waited.

  “Do you see now, Anne? Do you comprehend why I had to do what I did? He deserves it.” She smiled. “You should be glad. He’s used you, as well, keeping you close to him to fight the wraith, but what would happen if, by some miracle, you were successful? Do you think he’d remain by your side when he no longer needed you?”

  Her words bit into me. The same doubt I’d felt just this morning rose up in me, a living, squirming thing that I wished I could smother. “It is not the same.”

  Lily laughed and nodded. “You’re right, it is not. It is worse for you, dear, for you are just a servant.”

  “I know August.”

  “Do you, now? Why did I have to show you that particular memory, then? You should have known all about it. After all, that little scene was why he felt he had to leave the Brothers. He was too much of a coward to remain in my society after his confession.”

  It was true. He hadn’t told me why he’d decided to leave The Order, what had been the catalyst that had started this whole horror. He should have said something.

  “That’s right, Anne. He betrayed you as much as he betrayed me.”

  The wraith, which had remained by her side until then, slithered toward me, its harsh chuckle making me shiver as much as the cold. “Anne, Anne, Anne,” it hissed.

  I took a step backward. “Stop it.”

  “Face the truth, dear.”

  I couldn’t have been that blind, that infatuated. He couldn’t have tricked me that easily.

  August’s face flashed through my mind: the smiles he’d given me, rare, but brilliant; his worry at my well-being; the feel of his arms around me; the trust he’d placed in me.

  I pushed aside everything Lily had said and rifled through my own memories as I tried to beat back the rising panic. One moment glowed, its unmarred light making it stand out. It was the moment in the kitchen, when we’d hit our heads trying to grasp the fallen knife. The carefree way he’d allowed himself to laugh and the warmth I’d felt while I watched him. Despite everything that had been happening around us, we’d found a spot of peace, a moment of happiness.

  Something inside me snapped.

  Whatever Lily said, whatever she showed me, it didn’t matter, because I loved him. I loved August.

  The sudden knowledge spread warmth through my entire body, pushing everything else aside.

  I loved him, and I wanted him safe even if it meant I’d been a fool. I was not Lily. I would not hurt him just because I’d been hurt. Love went beyond that, it had to, or it wasn’t worth a speck of dust.

  My eyes met hers. “We will end you and your wraith.”

  Her smile vanished at my words. She’d been so sure she had me. “I rather doubt you’ll have enough time, my dear.”

  I realized the burning smell had begun to grow into an almost physical presence while we spoke. A dim glow caught my eyes, coming from the window. I crossed the room and gasped.

  A trickle of fire was spreading along the outer walls, following the roses’ path as they bordered the manor.

  “I had hoped you would change your mind. Despite what you might think, I don’t revel in killing innocent people, but I see you’ve made your choice.” She nodded to the swirling mass that was the wraith. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” She flung the door open and disappeared.

  Let her leave. I couldn’t worry about her now, not when I had to find August and get us out before the flames made it impossible. The manor was made of stone, but the inside was gilded with wooden panels and furniture that could easily lure the fire, creating a trap for anyone left inside. I ran out of the room and careened down the hallways.

  “August! Damn it, August!”

  Nothing but the growing hiss of the flames licking the stone walls. Gripping the banister that would soon enough be no more than ashes, I took the stairs in a few leaps and ran to the servant’s quarters for my shoes. Not bothering with stockings, I fastened them on and started off toward the main hall again.

  “August!”

  “He’s not in the house, stupid girl,” the wraith hissed. Its voice’s cadence was so much like Lily’s that I had to make sure she wasn’t still nearby. How had August not recognized it? “Why would I let him burn when he is the one who provides me with the energy I need? I thought you were brighter than that.”

  I stood my ground, refusing to be cowed. “Then why did you attempt to kill him days ago, huh? Or did you forget that little incident?” My words were much steadier than I had expected.

>   “If I had wanted to kill him, I would have. Another thread of sliced skin and his life would have ebbed out in a pool of blood. But I would not make it so easy for him. No. My master wants him weak and alone.”

  Enough pleasantries. The smoke was beginning to crawl down my throat, tickling a passage that threatened to clamp down in a cough.

  I reached for the doorknob. I hadn’t expected it to be open, so I was not surprised when all my yanking produced was nothing more than vague creaks in the massive wood.

  “Bastard,” I muttered.

  Laughter broke out again, followed by a shriek of agony that multiplied against the walls.

  I realized that the screams were coming from the roses. As impossible as it seemed, their voices were raised in fear and pain as their petals sizzled and curled. I held my hands over my ears to block the sound out, but the voices were inside my head. Unstoppable.

  I needed to get out. Not bothering to test the kitchen door, since I knew enough of the wraith’s and Lily’s intelligence, I threw my attention to the large windows. Some of them had stone bars through them, which meant I wouldn’t fit, but two of them did not.

  The main hall had nothing heavy enough to throw, so I went into the dining room and yanked up one of the chairs, dragging it back with me. It was heavy and massive and would break through the panes without problem.

  I raised it up, shouldering its weight and flung it forward with as much force as I could muster.

  The blow was deflected, an invisible barrier crashing against the chair, breaking it in a multitude of limp pieces.

  “No!”

  “I don’t know what you take me for, Anne, but I can assure you, I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t bother trying the other windows.”

  I threw myself against the door, pulling at it, rattling its heavy boards. I knew I couldn’t break it.

  “Damn it.”

  What could I do? What options were left to me?

  The crackling was growing louder, ferocious in its triumph, while the roses grew weaker. I could attempt to stop the fire with my power, but I had no clue if it would work against such an assault. This was not what August had prepared me for.

  An idea jolted me out of my racing thoughts.

  I felt my blood tremble with excitement. Yes. Yes, it could work.

  TWENTY-seven

  I ran back to the kitchen and grabbed everything I could find that would work as kindling. There wasn’t much more than some old newspapers, but I was sure it would be enough. I added the box of matches to the pile in my arms and a cloth I’d soaked in a bucket of water left over from the washing.

  I could feel the creature’s eyes on me, trying to weigh my arms down, to stop me in my tracks, but I just smiled and continued on into the main hall and up to the front door. I deposited the crumpled paper on the floor and took a deep breath.

  “What are you doing?” The voice was harsher than I’d ever heard it, but there was an edge to it, like a frayed hem, that betrayed a different emotion than anger. Could it have been fear?

  I pulled out a match, feeling the wood crisp against my fingers, and struck it hard against the box, igniting it.

  “You stupid girl, what are you doing?”

  I didn’t turn. “You wanted fire? You’ve got it.”

  I held the match against the newspapers, allowing the flame to caress them, to grow into them. The glow was reflected on the door’s wooden panels.

  “I could have arranged a quicker death, if that’s what you wanted.”

  “Oh, you know very well that is not my intention. Or are you stupid enough not to realize the front door is made of wood?”

  I raised the soaked cloth up to my face as the smoke increased.

  The wraith tried to rush past me in a clumsy attempt to stop the fire, but I rounded on the invisible current.

  “What are you planning to do? You can’t snuff it out; I created it, and you have no power over it. As far as I know, the only Grounder in the room is me.” I struck out with my empty hand, concentrating all the tingling warmth I felt into a tight ball. The creature jerked back with an echoing yell.

  If someone had asked me right there how I’d managed to create an energy ball, I would have been as confused as the wraith was, but I didn’t question my instincts, on the contrary, I allowed them to take over my shaking body.

  The smoke grew and mingled with that coming from outside until I had to blink back burning tears. The door was disappearing under a blanket of flames, but would it be quick enough?

  The wraith’s screaming was becoming unbearable, a taunting screech that seemed to pummel my ears. I began to whimper with pain, not sure how much longer I could keep myself upright under the assault of sound.

  When I heard the telltale crackling, the welcomed noise of wood collapsing, I neared the door. I caught a peek at the snow, stained with the fire’s light, and I smiled. Just a little more.

  Yanking down another curtain, aware of its thickness and length, I wrapped it in many loops around my body. I stood still, or attempted to, as the wraith slammed its currents against me in a vain attempt at intimidation. I was too scared to be scared.

  With a swoon, a large, half-chewed piece of door collapsed, and I saw my opportunity. I wrapped the cloth even tighter around myself and, with a deep breath, ran at the smoldering outline that was the door.

  I crashed through it, accompanied by a furious shriek. I landed hard against the ground and immediately sloughed off the curtain that was trailing flames. Pressing some snow on a few ignited locks of my hair, I checked that no other part of me would be eaten by the orange fire.

  The outside air was bitter, sour, and smelling of rot. Looking around, I realized there were no roses left, they’d all disappeared under the murdering blanket that covered the houses’ facade. I could hear window panes bursting, scattering glass into the manor’s frightened floors. There would be very little left come morning, but that was not my concern. No, I had to find August.

  I rounded the house and saw the stables also burning, the hay in the stalls making the fire’s job that much easier. I only had time to give a silent thanks that there had been no horses in there before what felt like a burning, icy manacle gripped my left wrist and threw me to the ground. My skin was bubbling in pain; the wraith’s energy was at least twice August’s.

  The creature snarled as it yanked me forward, dragging me through the frozen ground while I attempted to gain my footing. I braced myself, pulling my arms back, but to no avail. My strength was nothing against the invisible force.

  All I could do was scream and make as much racket as I could so August could hear me. As a twisted root dug into my ribs, I realized where the wraith was taking me and my limbs seemed to turn to powder. Where was August?

  The trees’ shadows appeared before us, opaque and silent, and inside their shadows lay my nightmare. I could hear the bubbling with its guttural gargle, spitting out black water that was as heavy as stone.

  “No,” I moaned, kicking my legs, knowing it would do nothing.

  There was a barking laugh and a slap of air against my face.

  “Since fire didn’t work, let’s try water,” the voice whispered into my ear, then screamed nonsense into the air.

  As it dragged me through two of the sentinel trees, I caught a large shadow at the fountain’s feet—a dark, long puddle of fabric and . . .

  “August!” I yelled.

  He lay immobile on the snow.

  “Don’t worry your little head, he’s alive. Don’t know if he’ll be able to walk again, though.”

  I looked at August’s legs, one of which lay at an awful angle. My eyes dried at the sight of his crumpled body, tossed like a used napkin on the floor.

  The pain around my wrist increased, cutting through my skin until the cold seemed to freeze the bone underneath. I had to do something. I had to get loose.

  I stopped flailing and screaming, growing as limp as August’s body, and took a deep breath. The smell of pine tr
ees mingled with the flow of words in my head, words that, in my panic, I’d forgotten I even knew. I began a steady chant, concentrating on that glowing orb in my center, creating a golden thread that spun around me and around the creature that held me, slowly tightening around its own grip on me.

  I felt the manacle loosen, and I increased my chant’s speed, weaving it faster and faster and tighter and tighter until the bond was almost nonexistent. That’s all I needed. I jerked my hand back, gasping as the cold night air invaded the raw skin, and scrambled to my feet as the wraith snarled and roared.

  What now?

  I wouldn’t have too much time before it came up with another way of destroying me. I ran to August and knelt down.

  “August! Wake up! August!”

  I shook him, but only managed to release a moan of pain.

  “August, it was Lily! She is the wraith’s master!”

  The swirling air behind me alerted me to the wraith’s attack, and I swung an arm toward the current, making it ripple with my power.

  As I brought my hand down to my side, I felt a crinkling in my pocket. I’d taken out the cross and substituted it with . . . my breathing grew fainter as I realized what it was. I drew it out with shaking hands and unfolded the wrinkled paper. Yes! Yes! The chant, complete with August’s part. I clutched at it and spoke his first word in a thick, fear-choked voice.

  “Riethalon!”

  The wraith seemed to pause and listen as I repeated the first word. It chuckled.

  “Quite pathetic, Anne. You shouldn’t tangle with things you know nothing about.”

  I repeated my chant, which seemed to lend me protection for a short period of time, until I could figure August’s part out.

  The memory of his voice filled my head as I tried to decipher the words, the rules bouncing and echoing in his cold voice. There were so many I didn’t know! And the accents, how would I know where they went?