Chapter Thirty-Nine

The air hums with tension. The landv?ttir vibrate with rage. But Marigold is no longer afraid—she has been waiting for this, for an opportunity to fight for her freedom by any means necessary. All of her pain and losses have brought her to this moment. She is both a witch and a warrior.

As she stands close to the dock with an array of different spells and potions all fastened around her body in a makeshift harness, a black boat emerges from the snowy fog. It comes closer, carrying flames that are whipping in the wind.

No, not flames—bright red hair. The boat reaches the dock and a hideous old woman steps out, standing a few feet away from her.

Beside Versa stands Lottie, chained by the wrists and thoroughly bruised. Her clothes are tattered and covered with powdery ash. The ends of her hair are singed, and her skin is wounded with countless cuts and burns.

"Marigold," Versa taunts. Her breathy, ragged voice drags out the vowels. It's the same voice that Marigold heard on the night that they went swimming. The harsh features of the witch become clear as she comes closer. Her old skin is pale and paper-thin with inky black veins spidering over her body.

Her widened gaze moves to Lottie, who will not meet her eyes. She knew the Ash Witch would be horrific, but the sight of Lottie in such a state of pain—knowing that she sent her away—breaks her heart into pieces.

"Get away from her."

"She is my blood. My granddaughter. I will do with her as I wish." Versa strokes Lottie's hair as if she were a dog. Lottie winces every time the witch's hand rises. Marigold's fist shakes with rage. She reaches back slowly, wrapping her fingers around a healing honey.

"She is my heart. If you want to live, you will let her go and you will leave this land."

Versa laughs behind her thin, tight smile. "This"—she waves her arm over the land, her tattered black sleeve whipping against the wind—"is mine." Pulling on the chain around Lottie's wrists, she drags her forward. "It is ours." She grins, though it does not reach her eyes. It's one of those smiles from a nightmare, from a monster watching through the small crack in the wardrobe. The witch, her crazed smile unmoving, takes a deep breath and shrieks. It's inhuman, like metal screeching against metal. The cottage windows all shatter at the same time, and slowly, the lake starts to bubble up.

It's boiling.

Versa raises her hands, pulling Lottie's chains up with her so her arms are forcibly stretched out. "Look how this land listens to me. It will restore me," she says, weeping with madness. She steps forward.

"Do not come any closer," Marigold shouts over the wind, but Versa pays her no mind. She keeps walking, pulling Lottie alongside her.

"The last time I was here was the day I lost you," she says to Lottie. "Your wretched mother refused to help me reclaim this land that should have always been ours. She paid her price, her and your weak excuse of a father. But you, my little Lottie, you are a survivor like your grandmother. You fled that fire because you were stronger than them. You were born to take what is ours. This cottage. This land. Eternal life. We will have it all."

Marigold snarls, summoning thunder and lightning to crash above her. "Innisfree belongs to me."

"You lost it the minute that Lottie let my magic back in. All it took was one bad dream."

Lottie is visibly shaking with sickness and rage. "Mari, I didn't know…" she cries, but Versa raises her hand, and Lottie's words get stuck in her throat. Every time she tries to speak, Versa's magic tightens around her neck, and Lottie's words turn into chokes. Marigold starts to run to her, but Versa's other hand rises. The hard earth beneath Marigold's feet turns to sticky mud that slows her to a stop.

Versa's magic loosens against Lottie's throat, and her gaze snaps to Marigold. "Look," she says, reaching out and bearing her wrist. She drags her long yellow fingernail down a black vein of her arm. "Ash can keep you from dying, but—" Her skin parts, but there is no blood. There is only powdery ash that peppers the wind. "—it cannot keep you alive. Don't you see? Your grandmother forced me to do this to myself. I want my life back. Only Innisfree can give me that, and it can grant me that forever."

"Do not speak of my grandmother," Marigold snaps. "You have burned yourself from the inside. It is too late for you."

Versa grabs Lottie by the chin and presses her cheeks together. She has the same red hair as Lottie, though it tapers into darkened and burnt ends. Her eyes are a similar shade of green, but more wicked. "My granddaughter will continue my legacy, and she will use this land to restore me."

"You could not keep Innisfree alive long enough to save yourself. Your magic would destroy it."

"So then you will stay. Your magic will keep this land alive for us, and you can have Lottie. If she completes the ritual, I will lift the curse. All she has to do"—she turns, grabbing Lottie by the hair and throwing her to the ground—"is say yes. I have not been able to get it through her little head." Versa smirks up at Marigold. "Maybe you can change her mind."

The words splinter off Versa's tongue, their sharp snaps echoing in Marigold's ears.

"Unless, of course," Versa continues, "you do not love her. You tortured her, you know. For weeks, she burned for you, and you never came. I would hear her calling for you, screaming your name in the night." She turns to Lottie. "Why didn't she come for you?"

Lottie is allowed to speak for the first time, her voice broken, her words rehearsed. "Marigold does not love me."

"Good, pet. Say it again."

"Marigold does not love me."

"Who is the only person who loves you?"

Lottie does not respond, and Versa raises her hand as if she is about to slap her across the face. Lottie winces and says, "My grandmother."

"Exactly." She turns back to Marigold with a wicked smile. "At least she knows the truth now."

"Lottie, that's not true," Marigold says as she fights back tears.

"Isn't it?" Versa says.

"No."

"Then prove it to her, right here and now. Make her perform the ritual. Then I give you Lottie, and you give me Innisfree."

It is now that Marigold must decide what love is worth. Could it be worth giving up everything? She sees the pain in Lottie's eyes. She cannot even begin to imagine what Lottie has been put through since they parted, and it is all her fault. There are no words and no immediate actions that could make up for the pain that she allowed. It will take the rest of her days to earn Lottie's heart and her forgiveness, and even then, she is not sure if she will deserve it.

But she wants that more than anything.

More than absolutely anything and everything, she loves Lottie Burke. The agreement is on the tip of her tongue, but before she answers, she remembers her grandmother's words. She remembers that it is never her place to decide someone else's fate.

"I will not take your choice away from you, Lottie. You decide."

"What?" Lottie whispers.

"If you want to do the ritual, I will give it all up for you. But I will not decide your fate. Because…" She chokes on her impending tears. "I love you."

Heavy tears fall from Lottie's face, though she does not return those sacred words. With the curse in place, she cannot. She must decide.

Lottie stares at Versa, vicious venom pouring out of her gaze, until she turns back to Marigold.

Lottie shakes her head. "I can't. I can't bear to watch you lose Innisfree for me." She turns to Versa. "And I will never be like you."

Once she has made her decision, there are no more deals to consider, no trades to offer.

Marigold wants vengeance.

She wants blood.

The wind gathers around her; the clouds are ripped in two as the rain bleeds from them. She lunges for Versa and rips Lottie's chains out of her frail hands. Her fist collides with the witch's face, knocking her to the ground. She hovers over Versa as a storm burgeons at her command.

Versa smiles up at her with black ash staining her teeth. "You are going to regret that."