I found her huddled in her bed when I came back, her damp hair soaking her pillow and her untouched cocoa on the nightstand. Her face was to the wall and she wasn’t moving. I pulled the afghan from the foot of the bed over her, and she trembled. “Ivy?” I said, then hesitated, not knowing what to do.

“I told him no,” she said, her voice a whisper, torn gray silk drifting to rest atop snow.

I sat down on the cloth-draped trunk against the wall. Piscary. But I wouldn’t say his name for fear of triggering something.

“Kist took me to him,” she said, her words having the cadence of repeated memory. She had crossed her arms over her chest, only her fingers showing as they clutched her shoulders. I blanched as I saw what must be flesh under her nails, and I tugged the afghan up to hide it.

“Kisten took me to see him,” she repeated, her words slow and deliberate. “He was angry. He said you were causing trouble. I told him you weren’t going to hurt him, but he was angry. He was so angry with me.”

I leaned closer, not liking this.

“He said,” Ivy whispered, her voice almost unheard, “that if I couldn’t curb you, that he would. I told him I’d make you my scion, that you would behave and he wouldn’t have to kill you, but I couldn’t do it.” Her voice got higher, almost frantic. “You didn’t want it, and it’s supposed to be a gift. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I tried to tell you,” she said to the wall. “I tried to keep you alive, but he wants to see you now. He wants to talk to you. Unless …” Her trembling ceased. “Rachel? Yesterday … when you said you were sorry, was it because you thought you’d pushed me too far, or that you said no?”

I took a breath to answer, shocked when my words got stuck in my throat.

“Do you want to be my scion?” she breathed, softer than a guilty prayer.

“No,” I whispered, frightened out of my mind.

She started shaking, and I realized she was crying again. “I said no, too,” she said around her gulps for air. “I said no, but he did anyway. I think I’m dead, Rachel. Am I dead?” she questioned, her tears cutting off in her sudden fear.

My mouth was dry and I clutched my arms around myself. “What happened?”

Her breath came in a quick sound, and she held it for a moment. “He was angry. He said I had failed him. But he said it was all right. That I was the child of his heart, and that he loved me, that he forgave me. He told me he understood about pets. That he once kept them himself but that they always turned on him and he had to kill them. It hurt him, when they betrayed him time and again. He said if I couldn’t bring myself to make you safe, that he’d do it for me. I said I’d do it, but he knew I was lying.” A frightening moan came from her. “He knew I was lying.”