They’re frothing, screaming, their fanged maws snapping with rage as they scrabble over one another, desperate to obey the Bone Tree’s commands. Varia’s commands. But on the mountain, we hear nothing. There’s only the four of us, only one of us still human, all of us puffing exhausted clouds into the bitterly cold air as we watch the pillar extend. Grow. From raging hundreds to feverish thousands. Curling around one another, making a tower of their bodies through sheer frenzy. Utter silence.

None of us knows what to do, to say, in the face of thousands of starving valkerax clawing for the clouds. It’s the sort of silence that echoes, trilling bells of terror in my hollow chest.

Varia has what she wants. But where’s my heart? What I want?

I can feel it. I can feel her power surging through me like booze poured down a throat on a cold winter’s night, like a flame burning up a line of oil and snaking through dry grass. The emptiness in my chest burns with her magic, every inch of void set aflame. It’s beyond me. It’s beyond anything I’ve ever felt—and I’m Weeping. I’m supposed to be in the center of stillness, untouchable by my witch. By her. But she can touch me. She is, right now. Her magic, her influence…it’s reaching me. More than that—it’s lying on me with its full weight, making it hard to breathe, to move a muscle.

She could.

Those two words echo shrilly in my skull. A static shot of fear runs down my spine, and I realize she could. With the sheer brute power of the Bone Tree behind her, she might be able to command me through the Weeping. My one ace, gone.

My one scrap of control, of independence.

Gone.

As always, I’m the first to do the most foolish thing.

“Varia!” I step forward, the mud and slush from the melted snow seeping into my boots. “My heart! Give it to me!”

Every word rings out easily in the empty air. Varia’s onyx-shine eyes narrow imperceptibly, her smile eternal. She oozes around the Bone Tree’s trunk, sliding her hand along it as she goes. Like she has all the time in the world. Like the world can wait for her.

“We did have a deal, didn’t we?” She laughs softly. “And you’ve been so very loyal. Which is more than can be said for who you used to be. Or for most.”

Her eyes slide over to Fione, who flinches back violently, palms hitting mud to stabilize.