26. Phaedra

PHAEDRA

J ust past dawn on Monday morning, Asher and I set off for Kestrel's hut.

It sat on the other side of the Isle Royale, and the hike would take us about two hours as humans. I was tempted to run most of the way there as wolves, but considering how affectionate our wolves could be, it was best to traverse the distance on two feet.

But that meant we could nothing to avoid the awkwardness between us. We didn't talk to each other, but we kept stealing glances. I wanted to call this off with each painful beat of my heart, but I tried to smother the urge as best as I could. My wolf hated that I'd made the decision to lose my fated mate, but I wouldn't change my mind. Fate had made the wrong decision, and I needed to solve this problem on my own.

It was better for me, for Asher, and for the Dagger pack. Asher agreed with me. I just needed to remember that when the doubts crept up.

Finally, we reached the small beach where Kestrel's hut sat. It was a little thing made from old, cracked wood. The thatched roof looked like it would break apart at the slightest breeze, and the door hung on hinges that were covered in rust. It was amazing the thing stood at all. I wondered if the only thing keeping it upright was old magic.

It stood before the border that separated the greater two-thirds of Isle Royale from the feral lands. The trees beyond her hut were even more dense and unruly than the ones surrounding the pix village. It would be hard for any creature to get through those brambles.

As far as I knew, no one, be they wolf or pix, went beyond this border. There was a superstition that spending too much time in that forest would make you feral. I wasn't sure I believed that, but I'd never been as close to that land as I was now. Maybe it was true, maybe it wasn't. I was content with not knowing.

Sensing my unease, Asher reached for my hand, and before I could think better of it, I let him take it.

"You ready?"

I squeezed his hand once, then let go. "I guess so," I said as I walked to the door. I lifted my hand to knock, but the door opened before I could. I stepped back in surprise, bumping into Asher.

Kestrel glared up at us. She was leaning on her cane and exhaling gray smoke that smelled like old soil and something herby and familiar. I'd never seen her up close before, so I'd never noticed that her face was splotched with red birthmarks and that her eyes were as black as tar.

"What do you want?" Her voice didn't match her old appearance. It had a pleasant depth and smoothness, and there was a timelessness to it. For some reason, I was certain she could read a story and match the voice of every character. But there was no way this crone would sit down with a storybook.

"We need your help," I said.

"That much is obvious." She still hadn't let us in. "What do you want from me?"

I looked at Asher, and he lifted his wrist to show the mark. "We want you to get rid of these," he told her. "And break our bond."

Kestrel burst into laughter, and the sound of it made me shrink into myself. "It would be easier and less painful if you just cut out your own hearts," she told us. "You've got the stink of high-wolf society on you, girl. Why don't you use your connections to get in touch with a therapist? Work through your problems that way."

"We'll pay you," I said. "However much it takes."

Again, she cackled in our faces. "Even if I wanted to help, I don't have the ingredients, and I would be going in blind without proper spell."

That was when I remembered the book. I reached into my satchel and pulled it out. "What about this? Would it help?"

Kestrel's eyes zeroed in on the book. She snatched it from my hands with a speed that surprised me. Pressing it to her nose, she inhaled the scent of the pages, then nodded to herself.

"I'll do the spell for the right price. From you"—she pointed to Asher—"I want five-hundred dollars. And from you." She eyed me curiously. "I want a vial of your blood. We'll do this tonight."

"W-wait." That was the one thing El had told me not to give her. "I could give you money. I have access to the alpha manor. Maybe there's something in there that would?—"

"I've named my price, girl. You can either take it or leave it." She clutched the book to her chest. "But I'm keeping the book no matter what you decide."

"That book isn't part of the bargain," Asher said.

"That's where you're wrong. I don't know how you two found this book, and I don't care. It's not yours to bargain with. It was mine some time ago."

I had dozens of questions, but I was sure she wouldn't answer them. As far as I could tell, she wasn't lying, which meant that somehow, the Salcedos had gotten hold of something that was hers. How had they managed that?

"Well?" she demanded. "What is your answer?"

I didn't want to say yes, I really, really didn't. Who knew what Kestrel planned to do with a vial of my blood. But I was planning on leaving the island anyway. Whatever she was going to do, I doubted her magic could reach across Lake Michigan.

I felt Asher looking at me, but I didn't meet his gaze. Doing so would only lessen my nerve.

"Fine," I said.

"Excellent." She stepped aside and let us inside.

Her cabin was dark because all of the windows were covered in tattered fabric. The only light came from a few candles she had placed on various tables and shelves. The wax had melted into the wood. On the counter by the sink was a wooden pipe, with gray smoke drifting from its bowl.

I winced when I felt a sudden, sharp pain in my arm. Asher was by my side immediately, but it was only Kestrel. She had stuck me with a crude needle and was collecting my blood in a glass pipe.

I swallowed, feeling a bit nauseous as I watched her. "What are you going to do with it?"

"That's none of your business," she replied curtly.

I wanted to argue, but the small vial was already full. She corked it and put it on a shelf that held other glass bobbles of dubious liquids. "Now it's your turn, boy."

Asher sighed and counted out the money. He started to hand it to her, but she snatched it and counted it again. Her gnarled fingers were even faster than his. For a sickening moment, I imagined her yanking a pix out of the air instead of money. If a pix underestimated her, she would easily be able to catch one. She was a lot faster than she looked.

When she had double-checked the amount, she nodded and pulled open a nearby drawer. The drawer was stuffed full of money, but she somehow found space for the extra five hundred.

Kestrel turned back to us. "The magic this involves is very, very old. It will allow you two to sever your connection from the inside out. The god magic of the fated mark is wound through your bodies like an invasive species of weed-roots, but if you can find its source, you can destroy it yourselves."

Asher stiffened next to me, and when I looked at him, his expression was full of annoyance. "If we could do this ourselves, why would you demand payment of us?"

"Hush, boy," she snapped. "Do not question me. I have a part to play in this too. The book you two have returned to me holds many spells, and among them is one that will put you into a dreamlike state. The source of each of your fated marks is located in some foundational memory, and only I can lull you into a state that will allow you to find them."

It made some sense. As much as all this magic could, anyway. "What do you need from us?"

"You will collect the ingredients I need and help me brew it." She grabbed the book from the table and opened it to the page that held the spell. Again, the words of the spell seemed to drift and shift off the page. I could almost get a sense for what they said, but Kestrel closed it before I unlocked their secrets.

"Very well. I know what I need."

Kestrel went into town herself to grab the easy things, leaving Asher and me at her hut to get the other ingredients. They included a dead sea lamprey, a live rabbit, and several wild herbs. While I collected the herbs, Asher dived into the water to find the lamprey.

I didn't watch him peel off his shirt before he went into the lake, but I did watch him get out. Water streamed off the defined muscles of his chest and shoulders, and he shook his dark, wet hair out of his eyes. The sun was shining brightly now, and the rays lit upon his wet body, giving him the appearance of some kind of angel. The sight of him made my stomach drop, and I wanted to cry all over again.

I forced myself to keep picking herbs. "Did you get what she wanted?"

"Yeah." He held up it.

I recoiled. It was long and black, but its mouth was pale and full of teeth. "Ick. Get that godsforsaken thing away from me," I said with a shiver.

He chuckled as he dropped it in the old bucket Kestrel had given us. "I guess even someone like you would be grossed out by this."

I raised a brow. "What do you mean, ‘someone like me?'"

"Nothing really. I just think it's funny that a person who has pulled through even when the whole world was against her would be so put off by a little thing like this." His smile dimmed. "When you're gone, sometimes I forget you're not a dream."

My breath caught in my throat. How could he say that to me? How could he reach into my body and hold my heart in his hands like it was nothing? Didn't he know we were here to end things?

I looked away before I cracked. "Well, I'm not a dream. I'm just a normal woman, as evidenced by all the stupid mistakes I've made." I ripped a few herbs from the ground with more force than necessary. "I don't know how you can look at me like that. Shouldn't you hate me for insisting we go through with this?"

"It hurts, but I understand why we made the decision to come here." He'd put a slight emphasis on "we." I didn't want it to be true, but it seemed like he was he trying to take the burden of this choice off my shoulders. "It's not just you, Phae. I've made mistakes that led us to this." He ran a hand over his jaw. "But no. I could never hate you."

My traitorous heart skipped a beat. "That's just the fated mate mark talking."

"Maybe. Maybe not. I used to think it was the mark that made me want you."

"And now?"

"Now? I don't think so."

I wanted to scream at him. This wasn't fair. It was wrong for him to be taking this so gracefully when I was doubting myself every step of the way. But I kept my mouth shut and stood to drop the herbs in the bucket.

"I can't hate you, either," I muttered. I chose not to look at him and see how he took my words.

A little while later, Kestrel returned with her ingredients. I'd finished picking the herbs, and Asher had caught the rabbit. I had tried to do that part, but my wolf immediately killed and ate the two I caught. I wasn't sure if it was her way of protesting the spell or if she was just hungry. Either way, I couldn't shift until after the spell was cast.

"Boy," Kestrel said as she neared. "Give the rabbit to the girl. Then go into my hut and bring me my cauldron, a knife, and a long wooden spoon."

Asher frowned as he handed me the rabbit. I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling. He was practically pouting. It was so obvious he wasn't used to being told what to do.

"Are we doing this outside?" I asked.

"Of course. There's not enough room for you in my home, and anyway, I don't want either of you inside with my things."

"I guess that's fair enough," I said under my breath.

Moments later, Asher returned holding the cauldron in both hands. It wasn't as large as the ones I'd seen in books, but big enough to cook a meal that would last one person a few days. He set it on the ground and wiped old grease off his hands. The knife and spoon were inside the cauldron.

Kestrel crouched and dumped her ingredients on the ground: fresh lemons, a handful of chunky sea salt, and a small vial of what looked like black ink. She had me take the cauldron to the beach and fill it halfway with water. When I returned, she had already used the knife to slice through most of the lemons, and Asher had started a fire.

I placed the caldron on top of the flames, and Kestrel shooed me away. She dumped them into the pot along with the salt, ink, and herbs. With the lamprey, she dragged her knife down its distended belly and let the blood drip into the pot.

"The rabbit." She took it from Asher. Whispering a few words, she gripped the knife still red with the lamprey's blood and severed the poor thing's head from its shoulders, so quick it didn't even scream.

I winced as crimson spurted across Kestrel's face. I glanced at Asher. Even he looked a bit green.

"The rabbit represents your separation," she told us as she dumped the rabbit into the pot with the other ingredients. "Now it is done, the mixture must boil for an hour while the rabbit dissolves. During that time, one of you will stir while the other stokes the fire. And then you will switch off and so on."

She handed me the spoon. I guess I was on cooking duty.

Asher and I crouched by the little cauldron. I stirred the watery mixture while Asher poked at the flames. Despite the strange smell of the concoction, the work was almost pleasant. It was easy to let my mind wander to other things while I stirred.

But then Kestrel sighed. "You can't just do this in silence," she said, as if we should have known. "You need to talk to the potion."

"Talk to it?" Asher repeated. I could tell from his tone that he was frustrated. Again, I tried not to smile.

"Yes. What you're meant to be doing is pouring your emotions into the mix. The only way you can do that is by talking over it."

At first, we were both silent. After spending so much time convincing myself I needed to do this, my mind was suddenly blank. Asher looked at me. I guess he wanted me to start.

"I want this because I believe I have a future on the mainland," I said. It was the first thing that came to mind.

"You'll have a future anywhere, Phaedra," Asher said. "You're smart enough to make your own way."

"Then, you think I'm meant to be on the mainland?"

He hesitated. "I don't think my opinion matters. I just hope you're not expecting it to be a paradise over there."

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm not a child, Asher. I know it won't be easy."

He shrugged. "The way you've talked about going to the mainland makes it sound like you're expecting everything to go your way. It's nothing like that. There are problems everywhere."

Just as I was noticing the potion getting harder to stir, Kestrel instructed us to switch off. I pushed the spoon into his hand.

"Anywhere will be better than here," I retorted, poking at the fire. "All that's here are dead ends and an ever-increasing list of people I never want to see again." That was a lie, but I didn't waver.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Kestrel nodding.

"Tell me what you really think," Asher grumbled. He glowered into the potion. "I want this because I want to secure the best future for my pack. I hate that I've had to choose between what fate wants and what's best for my people. If I was the kind of alpha I thought I was, I wouldn't have put my pack at risk."

I huffed.

"What?" he snapped.

"I don't understand why you keep insisting you're a bad alpha. I've been to your pack. I've seen your people flourish. Their resilience is a sign of your good leadership, isn't it?"

He gave a bitter laugh. "You wouldn't say that if you'd seen the way I've been the past month. I've neglected them."

"None of your people looked unhealthy, your cabins weren't falling apart, and you went out of your way to make sure that both them and the Coldcrow pack were fed. The problems your pack face are because of things outside of your control." I lifted two fingers. "The fact that the Wilcox pack controls way more land than it needs, and the fact that your father lost his mind and acted selfishly?—"

"Those are excuses."

"No," I insisted, "They're reasons. You're too hard on yourself."

He avoided my gaze when Kestrel had us switch positions again. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said, but there wasn't much conviction behind it.

The mixture felt like concrete as I took hold of the spoon, and it looked like puce-colored gruel. The rabbit and lemons had completely dissolved. When we fell quiet again, Kestrel prompted me to keep speaking.

"Despite what you think, Asher, I know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Then, why are you so sure life on the mainland is better?"

"I'm not sure of anything." I put my whole body into stirring. "The only thing I'm hoping to find on the mainland is people who will accept me for who I am. I won't have to pretend to be someone I'm not, I won't have to keep quiet and out of sight, and I won't be living so close to the people who abandoned me. On the mainland, I won't be anyone's dirty secret, I'll just be myself."

I thought I saw Asher wince from the corner of my eye, but when I looked at him, his expression was hard as stone. "While you're forging new relationships on the mainland, I'll make sure my pack never goes hungry, and I'll prove to everyone I'm not the selfish man my father was."

"You'll prove it to everyone or to yourself?" I challenged.

"Everyone," he said again. "And myself."

We switched off one more time, just when my arms felt like they were going to fall off. Weirdly, despite my aching muscles, I felt lighter. It was like the spell had absorbed the burden I was carrying with those words.

"Good work." Kestrel took over for Asher, who flexed his sore hands. She filled a pair of cups with the cement mixture. "Before the next step, you two need to know that the fated marks can be hiding anywhere in your respective dreams, but when you find where they're hiding, there will be no doubt."

"What do we do when we find it?" I asked.

"You'll need to destroy the marks at the same time. If you find it on a glass, you break the glass. If it's on a scrap of clothing, you'll want to burn it."

"How will we know we're destroying the mark at the same time?"

Kestrel sighed. "You will be psychically linked together, so you'll be able to go over the timing."

"That's a relief," Asher said.

I nodded.

"The psychic link you share is what makes this spell so dangerous. You two will be diving into each other's psyche to find your fated marks. The magic will be trying to deter you. And if you're not careful, you can easily get so lost you won't know what is real and what isn't."

"What if we fail?" I asked. "Do we get another chance?"

"Not only do you not get a second chance, failure means death. If one of you dies, so does the other."

I shuddered.

Asher glared at her. "Why the hell didn't you tell us that before?"

She shrugged and handed each of us a cup. "Now, drink it all. Don't leave anything behind. I'd suggest swallowing without stopping to breathe. I wish you both luck. You're going to need it."

Asher and I shared a look. His eyes held a question: are you sure you want to do this? In answer, I raised the cup and guzzled it down. It was like drinking hot tar. I nearly gagged on it but managed to choke the noxious stuff down before I saw Asher do the same.

Kestrel stood over us and started to chant. Somehow, I knew the words she was speaking were from the spell in the book, because I could almost recognize the language.