That clawing grief reaches for me all over again even though I thought I’d escaped it. The fear of death hunting me, searching for the remainder of the heart it’s already broken, and who it will take from me to get it.

Alice. Nick. Sel. Mariah. Patricia.

My father.

Kings can defeat death. Save their own hearts.

I whisper, “How?”

“I can teach you.”

“I have teachers. William. Even Sel, when he’s not being a jerk—”

“What you have are diluted lessons many centuries removed from their origins. The Scion of Gawain. The descendant of Merlin. The slower path is what they must tread, but you do not have to. Why borrow knowledge when you possess its source?”

There is no temperature in this almost-space, but a line of ice slips down my spine. “The bleed-throughs. The voice. That was you. The memory at the funeral…”

“Yes.”

I shudder. “You have been trying to reach me.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you left the door open, and because we are nearly at war. And because I can help you know strength, power, and control.”

Despite my urge to push him away, to yell at him to leave, a deep expansive yearning opens up in my chest. A craving that bends toward his everywhere-voice.

Strength. Power. Control. Enough to fight back and defend myself. To face my enemies. To bring Nick home, save Sel, keep the Rootcrafters safe. No more running away, ever. The point of our arrow. The tip of our spear. Strength. Power. Control. Those three words ring deep inside me, make my mouth water. My voice is hoarse with want. “Tell me.”

A long pause in the darkness.

“Summon me, and I will show you.”

That open yearning closes tight. Immediately. Arthur is fifteen-hundred years dead in the ground, but that night, when the Legendborn and I faced a demon horde, he commanded my limbs in the here and now like they were his own. Like I was his puppet. It turns my stomach, makes my vision swim to even think about letting him control me again. “My body is my own. I won’t let you use me again.”

“I don’t need to possess you to teach you. Power is one thing; control is another. There is so, so much more to learn. Our connection is a miracle. An opportunity across eons.” Another low laugh. “And yet here you stand, obstinate.”

I shake my head. “I won’t obey a ghost just because he’s ancient. Maybe I didn’t close the door before, but now that I know I left it open, I’m going to close it.” I imagine the house of my mind, just like Mariah taught me before. Imagine the windows shutting, curtains closed. Doors closed, keys turned and thrown away, cracks sealed—

“Do you fear your own greatness? Your own bri? Summon me, Briana, and I will show you what it means to be the Pendragon….”