Chapter Thirty-Four

Marigold's entire body is completely numb. If she stops to think, if she crumbles under the weight of what she has done, the guilt will kill her, too. There must be something that can undo this.

She brings Lottie to the floor and presses her hand over her heart. Instinct tells her to use the same magic that she uses to revive plants. Concentrating on her breathing, she closes her eyes and visualizes her intent. She imagines all their best moments—the day Lottie helped her heal her burn, Lottie Day, swimming in the moon pool, the night of her tattoo, their first kiss in Bardshire, their passionate dance at the masquerade. But every good thing was followed by terror—the nightmares, Lottie's excruciating pain, the storms, the flames. Marigold is sick with guilt. How could she even think that this night would end any differently? She cannot have such goodness. After all the suffering she has allowed Lottie to endure, she does not deserve it.

She opens her eyes, and nothing has changed. Lottie is cold and unmoving. Her magic is failing her, and she is failing the girl she loves. Gripping Lottie's jaw, she forces her mouth open and starts breathing air into her lungs. Her tears spill onto Lottie's cheeks. Nothing is working.

She rushes to her bag and pulls out every ingredient she brought with her—all types of honey, royal jelly, essences, herbs, and moon water. Every second counts as she mixes everything together. With her trembling finger, she paints healing runes over every bend and curve of Lottie's body and calls upon her magic again. Her hopes fall as she lays her hands on Lottie's still heart. It may be too late to save her. It may not have been possible in the first place. Eyes closed, heart racing, she gives all her energy to this moment. Leaning down, she continues to breathe life back into Lottie. Her muscles tighten and strain so much so that it feels like they could snap her bones. Air leaves her lungs. The metallic taste of blood spills into her dry mouth, and Marigold's body shakes violently. The flames of all the candles in the room erupt to dangerous heights. The glass of the oil lamps and the windows explode into snow-like fractures.

Head spinning, Marigold pulls back and stares into Lottie's vacant eyes. No change. Seconds away from losing consciousness, she has nothing left to give. She told Lottie at the masquerade that if they kept fighting against the curse, it would destroy them both.

She was right.

She collapses next to Lottie, her hand still flat over the woman's quiet heart.

"Please," she mouths, for she has no voice left. She fights to keep her eyes open, but she cannot. There is a loud buzzing sound in her ear that makes her hands and fingers tingle. She forces one eye open to see a massive swarm of bees flying in through the broken window. They are not her bees—she could recognize them anywhere, even in such a state. No, these are wild bees that she has never seen before.

"Help," she whimpers. She doesn't know what she is asking for, but they fly down to where her hand sits on Lottie's chest. Slowly, she slides her hand away and lets it fall to the floor. The bees crawl over Lottie, gathering over each of the runes. In an instant, they sting her all at once. As their venom courses through Lottie's veins, mixing with Marigold's magic that was poured into her blood, Lottie's body starts warming rapidly beside her. The last thing Marigold sees before her body gives out is life flexing in Lottie's neck over and over again until it grows into a pulse.

"Marigold?"

Lottie's voice warms her ear, and she tries to move.

"Don't," Lottie says. "Just lie still. Everything is okay. You've been asleep for two days, but you are fine."

Eyes closed, she reaches for Lottie and feels her fingers thread through hers.

"You're alive," she whispers.

"So are you," Lottie says, her voice wavering.

"How?" she says, her eyes fluttering open. She's still on the floor and a blanket is covering her. Lottie sits up beside her wearing her chemise. There are stingers splintering in her swollen skin. Broken glass and dead bees litter the ground. And Lottie, oh thank the fates, Lottie is alive. Everything comes crashing into Marigold—the fear, the desperation to save her, the infinite guilt when it seemed like she had failed. She runs her hands over the hollow bodies of the bees. They're cold and feel like they are made of paper.

She tries to swallow. It feels like every breath she takes is spiked with needles. "The bees saved you."

Shaking her head, Lottie says, "You saved me, Mari."

"I didn't. I couldn't." She chokes on her words as she tries to sit up, but Lottie gently lowers her back down.

"Don't try to move. You need to rest."

"I killed you, Lottie." As soon as the words leave her mouth, panic sets in. The guilt starts eating her alive, gnawing through her stomach and clawing its way through her entire body. It wraps around her throat, choking her as she wails, "I killed you." Pushing against Lottie's hands, she forces herself to sit up. Her hands wrap around her throat as she fights to breathe. "I killed you," she repeats over and over again.

"You did not! Marigold, I am alive and well. Whatever happened to me was not your fault, and it's over now. See?" She takes Marigold's hand and presses it to her heart.

Beat. Beat. Beat.It is so beautiful and so impossible that it brings her to tears.

"You did not kill me. You did nothing wrong." Lottie pulls her into an embrace, and she sobs into her red curls. Even now, she is so disgusted by her own selfishness. Lottie went to the brink of death, and yet Lottie is the one who is comforting her now. She does not deserve such kindness. She deserves to be eaten by her guilt, to rot and die in its stomach.

She deserves to be alone.

So, it is decided. When they return home, she will send Lottie away, and she will never see her again. It is the only way to keep her safe. She turns her head to the broken window and looks at the sky—a night without stars. An omen of heartbreak.

The rest of their travels are silent, but not because of Lottie. As they sail on the morning ship home, she does her best to get Marigold talking again—quips about the food being too salty, the weather starting to turn from autumn to winter, a few questions about her magic. Nothing works.

Marigold slowly builds a wall between them, pulling herself away from Lottie as much as she can. If she were to leave her heart open, it would only cause more pain in what she knows she must do next. It sickens her to the marrow of her bones, knowing that she must push her love away. At one point, she leaves Lottie alone on the ship as she paces the different decks, pondering what she is going to say when they return. Every word tastes sour on her tongue. By the time the ship arrives, nearly ten hours later under a twilit sky, Marigold has no better idea of what will happen next.

Benny is not there to greet her this time, as she had no way of communicating their change in schedules. They must take a different carriage to Benny's house and then pray he is still awake to lend them his boat.

When the carriage doors shut, Lottie grabs Marigold's face and touches their foreheads together.

"Why won't you speak to me?" Her green eyes are glassy with sadness and worry. Her eyes search Marigold's face for any explanation. "Where did you go, Mari?"

It takes too long for Marigold to pull her gaze away, and Lottie knows that there is something on the tip of her tongue.

"Tell me what you are thinking."

"I feel sick," she finally says.

"What kind of sick?" Lottie asks as she gently releases her grip on Marigold's chin. She slowly brings Marigold's head to her lap and strokes her hair. "Just rest. We'll be there soon."

Lottie holds Marigold like that for the rest of the ride, until they arrive just outside of Mr. Benny's cottage on the coast. They gather their things and stretch their legs before knocking on the door.

When Mr. Benny opens the door, it is clear he has not slept. He takes a moment to confirm what his eyes are seeing, and then he wraps Marigold in a relieved embrace.

"You are three days late," he breathes. "I was so worried."

"I'm so sorry, Benny," Marigold says, her voice already heavy with impending tears.

"I had no idea if you were coming back, or what state you would be in when you got here. My mind went to the worst places."

"I'm okay. Everything is going to be okay."

He shakes his head. "Something is wrong on the isle, Miss Marigold. I saw smoke billowing from it last night. I should've gone to help, but I couldn't leave here in case you needed me upon return."

"What?" she yells.

"I do not know what we're about to walk into," he says.

Another disaster. Another tragedy that is all her fault. Another reason that she deserves the worst that life can give.

"Whatever it is, I will not leave your side. We'll fix it together," Lottie says. Her words rip Marigold into pieces because the truth is that this is the last time they will ever see each other.

This is where it ends.