Other memories surfaced a moment later, though. Harper’s hand shooting out to catch the root before it could hurt Justin. Rushing to the spire to help Violet. And at last, she understood. Her powers were only uncontrollable when she called on them from a place of rage. But she didn’t want this to work because she was angry. She wanted this power to protect the people she loved.
Her palm tingled. Energy crackled through her palm and into the statue’s forehead.
“Wake up,” Harper whispered, and she knew before she was even finished speaking that it had worked. She watched, eyes wide, as its tail twitched, then its ears. She hesitantly removed her thumb from its forehead as the animal rose into a graceful stretch. Its sculpted, unblinking eyes were locked on her.
“I did it,” she muttered, moving her hand away hesitantly from the guardian. And she had done it. She just wasn’t sure what came next. This wasn’t like the Saunderses’ companions—she couldn’t feel a tether like the one Violet had described.
And yet the stone fox was still gazing at her expectantly, the tip of its tail twitching.
“Hmm,” she said quietly. “Will you… guard the lake?”
The fox didn’t move.
Harper pressed her fingers to its forehead and repeated the command. This time, the change was immediate. It bolted away, its stride quick and purposeful as it bounded through the maze of other statues until it was at the edge of the lake. Then it curled up in front of a tree, its eyes staring outward, and froze again.
“Whoa,” Harper said. Then she turned, staring at the sea of half-disintegrated statues around her, a myriad of possibilities, an army all her own. And smiled.
Four Paths was deserted. No one loitered outside the grocer’s or the bar; the general store was empty, a CLOSED sign flipped over in the window, and a deadbolt was lodged firmly across the front doors of the library. The shuttered windows gazed at them in the center of the town square like dozens of empty eye sockets.
The entire thing made Violet incredibly uneasy. It wasn’t supposed to look like this. It was proof that they had lost a battle their families had been fighting for over a hundred and fifty years.
If battle was even the right word for it, based on what Violet had potentially discovered. Violet stared anxiously at Juniper, who was standing beside her, gazing at the photo of the letter on Violet’s phone screen. Normally she would have died before willingly handing over her phone to her mother, but this patrol had been her first chance to be alone with Juniper since the announcement of the evacuation.
They’d been assigned to watch the founders’ seal together, since it was clear by now that this was the most likely place the corruption would strike next. But Violet wasn’t going to lose another opportunity to explain to her mother that she’d discovered something potentially important.
“Who have you shown this to?” Juniper asked sharply as soon as she was finished, lowering the screen.
“May,” Violet said. “No one else. There’s been so much going on—I didn’t want to overwhelm them.”
“Well, I appreciate you telling me that you uncovered this.” Juniper handed back the phone, her brow furrowed. “I assume you’re wondering about the validity of this potential claim?”
“Aren’t you?” Violet asked hoarsely. She could not shake the feeling that this was all tied together: the murky origins of the Beast, the corruption invading the town’s sacred places, the humanity she sensed in her tether to the trees. She just couldn’t figure out how.
“I’m not wondering, I know,” Juniper said softly. “Everything you read in that letter is true.”
Violet’s entire body went cold. “What do you mean, you know it’s true?”
“I hoped I’d never have to tell you.” Beside her, Juniper looked utterly miserable. “But yes, Violet, it’s true. Our ancestors created the Beast.”
Violet’s world rolled and spun frantically on its axis. Her legs wobbled, her hands clammy with sweat. The mausoleum and the town hall spun, all of it blurring together in her field of vision until she thought she might pass out.
“How long?” she whispered. “How long have you known this?”
“Oh, Violet.” Juniper reached for her hand, but Violet snatched it away.
“We said no more secrets. No more lies.”
The words rang out across the deserted town square, accusatory and furious. Juniper winced beneath their weight.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“I don’t want your apology.” They had been through so much together, and Juniper was still hiding things from her. After they’d worked so hard to build trust. After Violet had finally started to feel as if she had a mother. “I want to know what you know.”
Juniper’s inclined head was a nod and a surrender. “It started when I was seventeen,” she began. “At the time, I was tapped to be the future leader of the Saunders family. Back then, it meant being the mayor, and it came with certain knowledge in order to ensure the safety of the town, passed down from one mayor to the next.”
“Knowledge like our entire family mythology being built on a lie?”
“It’s not all a lie,” Juniper said delicately. “But it is quite sensitive. Not even Augusta knows about this. When I regained my memories, I thought I was the only one left alive who knew the truth.”
“Yeah, well, the Hawthornes have half the story now,” Violet said quietly. “Secret’s out, Mom. Might as well give me the rest of it.”
Juniper’s mouth twisted. “It is not a pleasant piece of information. You may not want to hear it—”
“Of course I want to hear it.” Violet gaped at her. “I just learned how to trust you. Now I know I can’t.”
“You’ve made your point,” Juniper said. In Violet’s opinion, her mother had not earned the right to the wounded expression on her face. Dusk had fallen, swathing the town hall in a bluish shroud that winked iridescent in the slowly gathering mist. “And you have to understand that much of what you know is true. We are bound to the Beast. We draw our powers from it. It’s trapped in the Gray, just as you’ve discovered, and we protect the town from it. Mayor Hiram—my uncle—had a saying about the story of the Beast we tell ourselves. That it’s as true as most stories are, which is to say it is and it isn’t.”
“That just sounds like a convenient excuse for a lie.”
“Perhaps.” Juniper shrugged. “Regardless, the truth is messier, and it’s passed down from mayor to mayor. It recounts how the founders discovered a power source when they arrived here, not a monster. When they figured out how to use it, however, it came with an unfortunate side effect.”
“The Beast?”
“No.” Juniper’s lips thinned. “The same disease we’re calling the corruption.”
“So the corruption comes from us.” The words felt like poison in Violet’s throat. This disease, this nightmare—it was their fault after all.
“Well, yes.” Juniper’s footsteps sounded on the cobblestones as she came to stand beside Violet. “The founders made an attempt to stop the corruption, and it worked—but not fully.”