“Did you find the letter?” Lynet said at once.
Mina frowned slightly. “Yes,” she said, her voice perfectly even, “but that’s not why I’m here. I have something for you, something I forgot to give you before.”
Lynet watched Mina in confusion and almost wondered if their last meeting had been just a dream. Mina was acting like none of it had happened, like they’d never shared a heartbeat. But Mina was holding out her hand, unfolding a black cloth to present to Lynet her silver bracelet.
All of Lynet’s worries faded away in a moment. If Mina seemed stiff or formal, it was only because she was nervous to make this gesture—a gift to remind Lynet of the first time they had met under the juniper tree. Mina must have kept it after finding it on the body Lynet had made—she had kept it all this time, waiting to give it back to her.
“Mina, thank you,” Lynet said. “I was worried that … but it’s all right between us now, isn’t it?”
Mina’s lips curled into a smile, and she ducked her head to avoid Lynet’s eyes. “I hope so, Lynet. You’ll take it back, won’t you?”
“Of course.” Lynet took the bracelet and clasped it around her wrist. Its weight was familiar and welcome. “And now we can—”
Her words froze in her throat. An unfamiliar feeling, almost like pain, was spreading down to her hand, her fingers becoming stiff. Cold, she thought. This is what cold feels like. Mina was watching her, folding up the cloth. Why did she use a cloth? Why not give me the bracelet directly? Lynet had thought it was simply for embellishment, to surprise her, but now she couldn’t stop thinking that Mina had never touched the bracelet herself.
Poison.
She had hoped—had wanted to believe so badly—that Mina wouldn’t hurt her. She’d thought that letter would be the cure she’d been looking for—a reminder to Mina that she was more than what her father had made her. She had hoped, and she had been wrong—naive, even. Weak. This was Mina, standing in front of her, choosing to give her a bracelet coated in poison. Choosing to kill her.
The cold was spreading through all her limbs now, and she had to remind herself that Nadia had switched the poisons, that she wasn’t really about to die. But as her arms and legs grew stiff, she kept thinking of how easily Gregory might have discovered Nadia’s trick. What if he had dropped the original vial and had to choose a new one? What if he had changed his mind about which poison to use? What if I’m really dying? All the risks she had been willing to take seemed foolish to her now, the result of her misplaced trust.
She didn’t want Mina to see how frightened she was. “You won’t go until you see it happen, is that it?” she said, her voice as icy as the poison in her blood. “You want to see me die?”
Mina didn’t respond. She only tilted her head, waiting. In the dim light, she seemed ten years younger, her face almost unnaturally smooth, even the cluster of gray hair around her temples hidden away.
Lynet sank to her knees. She wondered if the poison would stop if she took the bracelet off now, or if it was already too late. It didn’t matter; she couldn’t move her arms anymore. She was turning to ice, freezing from the inside out. It’s not real. I’m not dying. But then why did the cold going through her feel so much like death?
Her vision was blurring, but something caught her attention—a heavy step, a flash of gray near the door. A familiar voice said, “Isn’t it finished, yet?” And then her vision sharpened as Gregory stepped into the room.
But no—Lynet had thought of this—he would need Nadia before removing her heart. Nadia would stall him until she had a chance to wake again—
But I made Nadia promise to leave if I was poisoned. Why had she done that? What had she thought would happen after she was poisoned, if no one was there to protect her from Gregory while she slept? I thought Mina would never poison me in the first place. And so she had let her emotions weaken her judgment yet again. For all she knew, Nadia had been mistaken, and Gregory could perform the surgery without her if necessary. Or maybe he didn’t need Nadia to remove the heart, just to transfer it to him, and Gregory was about to cut out her heart while she was still alive.
“No—” Lynet choked out. She tried to rise to her feet, but she merely inched forward on her knees a little, fighting to keep upright. She tried to cover her heart with her hand, a futile but instinctive attempt to protect herself, but her hand wouldn’t obey. And despite everything, she looked to Mina to help her, as she always had. “Don’t let him—”
But Mina did nothing, said nothing, as Gregory came to stand at his daughter’s side. “It shouldn’t be long now,” he muttered. “Stay here until she’s dead. I’ll return shortly.”
He left, and Lynet was alone with Mina again, her face as blank as snow.
Snow, Lynet thought, her mind growing foggy. I still have the snow. She could use it to protect herself, to keep Gregory away—but when she called to the snow on the roof, a spasm of pain went through her chest, and she cried out. The poison was shutting down her heart, freezing her blood, and freezing her magic with it.
And yet the most painful detail of all was that Mina could just stand there and watch.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen this way,” she muttered through gritted teeth, her head bowed from its own weight. “I had too much faith in you—or too much faith in myself, to think I knew you so well.” Her tongue grew heavy. “I know you now. I see you.” With a final effort, she lifted her head to look Mina in the eye. Now, finally, she saw those eyes clearly—they were black, shining, and empty, two glassy stones placed in a human face.
Lynet looked away before she saw herself die in them.
33
MINA
Mina huddled in the chapel, shivering at the cold wind that came in through the broken windows. Her thoughts were as chaotic and confused as they’d been when she’d first run from the North Tower, Lynet’s heartbeat still echoing in her chest.
What a queen I am, she thought bitterly. Hiding away from a girl half my age. And what would a true queen do? Strike down any threat, of course, even if it meant killing her own stepdaughter. That was what her father would have her do.
Mina was wrenched out of her daze by the sound of hurried footsteps. When she heard them at the chapel door, she didn’t even turn around.
When Mina did look up, Felix stood over her, his voice cold and impersonal as he said, “This is for you.” She looked up, and he was holding something out to her—a folded sheet of paper, yellowing at the edges.
Lynet’s letter. She looked up at Felix in surprise. “You went to see her?”
He nodded. “I did her a terrible wrong, and I had to atone.”
How easy he makes it sound, she thought. Just like Lynet—Felix was too inexperienced to understand that sometimes it was too late to atone, too late to stop moving forward on the chosen path. She snatched the letter from him. “Do you really think this letter can change anything?”
He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. I just promised her I would find it and take it to you. I warned her that I couldn’t make you read it if you didn’t want to.”
Mina sighed and unfolded the paper, glancing quickly at the first lines as she leaned back against the altar.