I sheathe the dagger and scoop my hands under Brahm’s arms. Dragging him through the opening in the dark mirror, we enter the courtyard. Everything out here is as gray as the dead forest. Ashes fall through the air past the empty tree branches and to the floor littered with twisting vines. Ahead of me is a large fountain.
Sparkling water springs from the top of a beautifully carved marble stone and splashes into a basin. It sits high and is surrounded by sharpened bones.
The Water of Life?
I pull Brahm toward the fountain but can’t get him past the bone spikes. Squeezing my hips between them, I climb up to the fountain to take a drink—just as Bergot said. I suck in the cool, refreshing water, and it invigorates my body. If Bergot was right, now Hexegot can’t kill me. I must give some to Brahm to wake him.
I try to cup water in my hands, but it disappears each time I move them away. Placing the canteen under the surface, it refuses to fill. I gasp as I turn back to see Brahm’s skin wilting. I freeze as terror grips me. How do I get him the Water of Life?
Another kiss will do.
I dip my face into the water and part my lips. Filling my mouth, I descend the marble fountain and rush to Brahm’s side. My lips meet his, and I let the water drip into his mouth.
“Please work, please work, please work.” I shake his shoulders and stare at his dark and withered face.
Spreading from Brahm’s lips, the wrinkles smooth away, and the black veins begin to fade. Brahm’s skin turns to its normal color, and sobs of happiness burst from my lips. He chokes on the water and coughs. I help him sit up and pat his back.
“Are…you…alright?” I can barely ask as I cry with joy, squeezing him.
“I think so, Freckles.” He leans back to study me. “Are you?”
I smile and nod while patting his face to make sure he’s really here. Brahm looks around, studying our environment. When he spots the fountain, he points.
“The Water of Life!” He grabs my arm. “Let’s take a drink while we can!”
I touch his cheek. “We already did. That’s how I woke you up—with the water.”
“I thought that was True Love’s Kiss.” He grins and pecks my lips. “Thank you, Freckles. What happened?”
I take a deep breath and recount the awful events to Brahm. The poisoned needle, the living tapestries and their dangerous coiling threads, and the mirror enchanted with a dark version of myself, daring me to kill myself.
He takes my hand and caresses it with his thumb. “And you dragged my sleeping body through it all?”
“I couldn’t leave—”
A weak whimper comes from the other side of the courtyard. Brahm and I look around and see nothing through the thick rain of ash.
“Help,” the whispery voice says.
We head toward the sound. Past a row of prickly hedges and bare trees ensnared with ivy is a cage with Bergot inside. My mouth hangs wide in surprise.
“Offerings, it is you!” She whispers. “You made it.”
“How is this possible?” I study the iron cage. It’s the same type from the cannibal-witch’s house. I retrieve the singing bone and key from my bag and unlock the door.
“Thank you,” she coughs.
Brahm and I help her out, and she places her arms around our shoulders.
“How did you get here?” I ask the goddess as we hobble toward the fountain.
“I could sense you needed help, Gisela. I hated myself for allowing you to come here without me. I knew I needed to try harder,” Bergot says in a craggy voice. “So, I transformed myself to bring you the golden shoes and silver mantle.”
“What?” I ask, raising my brows.
Brahm tilts his head. “The pigeon was you?”
“Yes, and she trapped—” Bergot continues coughing and wheezing.
“Here, let’s get you a drink from the fountain,” Brahm says.
“I cannot.”
I grab her shoulder. “But you told us to drink from it!”
“Yes,” she whispers and pats my hand. “I cannot drink from it myself, for I fear there is not much left to me under these veils. My sister’s dark curses have taken their toll on my body over the years. But the Water of Life will help if she tries to kill you.”
“If she tries to kill us?” Brahm asks. “But you’re here. Can’t you help us? Can’t you get us out?”
“No. The dark magic here is too strong.” Bergot moans as she cradles her head. “It is overpowering me.”
“Then how do we find your crown?” Brahm asks.
Bergot remains silent.
“She wears it, doesn’t she?” I ask. “It’s a part of her?”
“Yes. I did not know she had fused it to her body until I saw her,” Bergot whispers and pauses to study the bone in my hand. “May I see that?”
“Yes.” I hand it to her. “It’s magical. It can sing.”
As soon as I said that, the bone begins reciting the tale of Three Gifts for Three Children. Bergot holds the bone up, staring at it in complete silence as if she’s hearing it for the first time. I glance at Brahm and shake my head. Shouldn’t Bergot know her own story?
When the song is over, Bergot hangs her veiled head, crying.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I am deeply sorry.” Bergot stands and paces the courtyard.
“For what?” Brahm and I both ask.
“I had no idea. I promise I had no idea. This is futile. Everything we have done…pointless.”
“Pointless?” An agonizing pain fills my head as I grow angry. All this death and suffering can’t be pointless. I jump in front of the goddess and grab her bony shoulders. “What do you mean?”
She shrinks away from me. “I did not know Hexegot had the Staff of Stargott, too. This whole time, I assumed my brother was doing his job to keep the people of Bergot Valley safely within the borders.” Bergot places her hand over her heart. “I wonder what has happened to my dear brother.”
I huff a loud breath and place my hands on my hips. It’s my turn to pace through the falling ash in the courtyard. “The singing bone mentioned Stargott had sharpened the small piece of bone into a needle. Is your brother the one who created the tapestries in the Sanctuary?”
“Yes,” she says in a hopeful voice. “Stargott gifted me the tapestries when he hid his family inside the valley, but then he left.” Bergot shakes her head.
“In the woods, there’s a house of a weaver,” Brahm says. “Gisela and I found a loom, tapestries, and tools. Do you think that was his house?”
Bergot gasps. “Yes. But what do you mean was?”
She really doesn’t know what happened to her brother. I pity her and touch her hand. “The house is in ruins now. There was one tapestry we had never seen before of a man with red hair leading a family through a mountain pass.”
“That is him.” The goddess sniffles and lifts her head, rubbing her hands together. “Stargott left, and I never saw him again. I agreed to provide Hexegot with Offerings so long as she stayed away from the valley. I wanted to protect Stargott’s descendants from her. The lottery should never have chosen one, but you weren’t chosen by the lottery. Were you, Gisela?”