Chapter 48
A ria tried to plead her case, but every argument fell on deaf ears. She'd been wrong to think Widow Morton could still be reached. Rather than entertaining a conversation, the woman pulled a small white towel from her pocket, still bearing the rusted-brown streaks of Aria's dried blood.
"I know you think my curse cruel," she said, "but I was as kind in it as I could be. You've had time to make peace with your family, to prepare for the end, to even attend a few dances. I gave you the opportunity for the goodbye my son never had. Now that the Cast has taken root in your sisters, it's time to be finished with the source."
Wind howled against the windows, a beast calling to be fed.
"You think to destroy the king"—Aria's eyes burned with tears—"but you are just like him."
The widow nodded, lips pressed to a line. "Perhaps I am."
She crumpled the cloth in one fist, and at her touch upon the dried blood, fire burst to life in Aria's veins.
She screamed. Her knees buckled, bringing her to the hard ballroom floor with a crack . She twisted onto her side, writhing, pain clawing in every limb.
Aria's eyes fell on the large glass windows as she sought the final comfort of at least seeing home. But all the stars had vanished, and the darkness outside was moving, swirling like a river. She thought it a result of dizziness until she realized nothing was moving except that giant shadow in the sky.
Distantly, she heard a caw . Then another. Then a hundred cackling voices took up the call, pressing closer, closer—
Until the windows exploded inward.
Widow Morton shrieked, turning aside from a waterfall of piercing shards. She dropped the towel, and Aria's pain vanished, allowing her to gasp in a sweet rush of cold air. Amid the falling glass, a collection of rocks bounced across the polished hardwood floor. Rocks about the size a bird could carry.
Aria pushed herself to her knees as a murder of crows swooped into the room, assaulting her ears with a cacophony of ca- caw s. They swarmed Widow Morton, tearing at her hair and clothes, shrieking their battle cries. The woman screamed her fury right back, grabbing wildly, dropping each bird she touched to the ballroom floor. But for every dead crow that hit the ground, another swooped in with talons extended.
One crow flew on a wobbling course toward Aria, crashing beak-first into the floor.
"Corvin!" It was half laugh, half sob. Though he'd put himself in danger, she could not have been more grateful for the rescue.
Then black mist puffed, and Leon sprawled on the floor, moaning. A second crow glided in to perch on his back, one mischievous brown eye focused on Aria.
"You thought I fly like that?" He gave his little rattling crow laugh.
"Get off me." Leon hissed, swiping at the bird.
In another puff of mist, Corvin stood beside Aria, one hand extended to help her to her feet. She took it gratefully.
"Where's Mom?" Leon demanded.
"I haven't—"
A thunderous roar shook the ballroom.
Aria staggered, turning to see a lion at the entrance. Richard Langley stood behind the beast, one arm raised to hold back the other Casters while the Affiliate loped into the room. From somewhere down the hall came the sound of crashing swords.
"He's bigger than me!" Leon shouted, scrambling backward across the floor. "He's a lot bigger! Bad cat!"
Corvin's face had gone pale. "A lion Affiliate? That's not fai—"
The golden monster pounced on the boy, cutting him short and knocking Aria aside. Corvin screamed in such pain it nearly brought Aria to her knees again. The lion's claws tore through the flesh of his thigh, dripping blood to the floor as the monster held him pinned.
"Call off the crows, boy!" the lion roared.
"Stop it!" Aria threw her weight against the beast, achieving nothing. "Stop! You're killing him!"
The crows fell silent, retreating through the broken windows.
Widow Morton stood alone in a lake of black feathers and glass, her veil gone, her brown hair hanging limply around her face. A cross-hatching of bloody gashes marred her skin, and the end of one of her black sleeves hung in scraps by a thread. She snapped the thread.
"A less elegant death, then," she snarled.
While Aria struggled to move the lion, Widow Morton caught her by the arm and hauled her forward. Aria tried to twist away but slipped on the glass-covered floor.
"Goodbye, Highness."
Then Widow Morton shoved her through an empty window, off a cliff, and into the night air.