My heart is a drum in my ears. The bonfire rises in a matching rhythm. At the edge of the circle, Lu and Hazel exchange a look. They are helping me, in part, because I could become powerful enough to face this demon. The presence that has haunted my bloodline and pursued Rootcrafters for generations. “Is the Hunter… the demon that bloodmarked us?”

Emmeline shudders. ‘I do not know that word, but I do remember him,’ she whispers. ‘Eyes black as night, dark as the space between stars, red glowing coals in the middle. Those eyes were the last thing I saw.’ She steps back. ‘Be wary, Bree.’

I do not have time to be wary. I’ve already run enough.

I have five to go, including Vera herself. I raise my chin and call again.

“Corinne.”

Corinne shakes her head when I ask about using our root. ‘I died bringing Emmeline into the world. I cannot help you with what you seek. I could not even help my daughter. I was gone before I could tell her where our power came from.’

Regina is next. ‘The power came to me when I needed it. And when I asked.’

My heart leaps in my chest.

She stops my hope cold. ‘But then I started seeing him. From out of nowhere, he’d find me.’

“But how—”

She shakes her head. ‘I won’t show you, lest he find you too. We have all lost enough.’ She pauses to examine Volition before she goes, expression curious. With quick mental math, I realize that she’d lived through Emancipation. She looks to Hazel and Lu. ‘This place is ours, isn’t it?’

Lu dips her chin. “Yes, ma’am.”

Regina smiles, soft and hopeful, then fades. ‘Good.’

Then, Mary. ‘Demons were everywhere back then. But then so were other monsters. I saw that Hunter one time and made sure he never had cause to find me again. I just knew he wanted to kill me and I couldn’t let that happen. Not after I lost Mama. So I ran. I cannot help you, baby.’

Selah, Vera’s daughter, listens to my question and shakes her head. ‘After Momma died, I ran and I survived. I suggest you do the same.’

By the time Selah fades, I am on my feet, pacing. “No one knew how to use root as a weapon? No one? And if they did, the Hunter came to find them!”

I whirl around to call the last figure, my voice no longer a request, but a demand. “Vera!”

I stand, staring at the flame for a long time. Vera steps forward, eyes burning like the furnace we have all carried, cultivated, lost our mothers to.

She dips her chin. ‘Daughter of daughters.’

My voice comes out low and angry, and I don’t try to hide it. “You know why I have called you.”

‘I know.’