Malice

“I’m sure I can come up with a long list of humans evil enough to rival a Vila with a grudge. It’s over, Alyce. There’s nothing to do about it now.”
I let her words sink in, a warmth that has nothing to do with the hearth reaching its fingers through my veins. Callow mutters on her perch in what might be approval.
“Did you find anything in the book I lent you?”
I shake my head, hoping she doesn’t ask to have it back. Damn that Kal. “Nothing of consequence. Nothing about—her.”
Aurora rubs at her temples, resting her head against the back of the chair. Firelight laps at her neck, dancing in the hollow of her throat, and an insane part of me wonders if that fragile place feels as soft as it looks. “I thought as much. In a decade I’ve come up with nothing.”
“But you’ve been working alone,” I argue, willing my attention away from her skin. “You’ve been doing the best that you can.” I try to imagine if I’d never found Kal. I’d have been reduced to whipping up elixirs for the rest of my life.
“It’s not enough.” A wind rattles down the chimney and stirs the fire. Aurora sits up straight. “Alyce.”
I’m not sure I’m going to like what comes next.
“Do you think you could help me?”
I don’t.
“Help you—break the curse?”
“Yes.” She leans forward. The golden dragon on her necklace glitters. “You have the same blood as the Vila who cast it. Perhaps you can do something to break it.”
An image of the duke rears in my mind. Of the wicked, beastly rosebush. The stench of sulfur burns in my nose. “I don’t—that’s not how my magic works.”
“How do you know if you haven’t tried?”
A nagging instinct tells me to keep silent about Kal. About my true powers. “I just do.”
“Please.” She reaches across the table and tangles her fingers in mine. “I have less than a year left. I have to try everything.”
“If there was something that could be done with my blood, they would have used it already. Trust me—there were plenty of tests completed when I was a child.” I wrench free, the scar on my middle tingling. “It could go very badly. You could get hurt.”
Kal promised as much. That even if the Vila wanted to remove Aurora’s curse, it would be risky. And I’m not willing to gamble with her life.
“And I will die if I do nothing.”
I rake my hands through my hair, frustration and guilt warring within me. This is madness. I’m just as likely to kill the princess as to break her curse. But—if I am in any way responsible for the curse on her family, I owe her this. Before I take the gold her father will pay me and leave Briar forever. But how could I possibly—
Kal’s book.
Aurora reads my expression. “You have an idea. I knew you would. What is it?”
Dragon’s teeth. But there’s no going back now—not when she’s scented the secret. “You have to promise not to tell. Swear it. This could put both of us in real trouble. Worse than getting locked in your rooms for a week.”
She huffs. “Don’t you trust me?”
No. Yes. My fickle heart can’t make up its mind. Once again, I’m dizzy with the feeling Aurora gives me. Like plunging toward the sea and hoping you’ll grow wings before you hit the surface. Against every scrap of reason, I retrieve Kal’s book and hand it to her.
“What’s this?” She begins flipping through the pages.
“It’s a book.” I clear my throat. The fire crackles. “Written by a Vila.”
Aurora gapes at me, then back at the book with heightened interest. “A Vila wrote this? Is there anything about my curse?”
“No. It was written before the war, by the scribe at one of the courts of Malterre. But it’s the only link I have to my past.”
“It must be very important to you, then.” She pauses. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”
I shy away from her, both elated and terrified at once. “It’s just a book. And it probably won’t even help. But…” I guide her to the sections where Grimelde discusses the arrival of the Nightseekers. “Humans used to go to Malterre and learn dark magic. Maybe you’ve seen something related in the old library?”
Aurora traces one fingertip over the Nightseeker emblem. It’s the same as the one for the Vila, except there’s a raven perched on top of the broken orb. “This symbol looks familiar.” Her brow scrunches as she thinks. “Yes. I’ve seen it stamped on a chest in one of the alcoves. But I’ve never bothered trying to open the lock. I thought there were probably just candles or something inside.”
“It might be locked for good reason,” I warn her. “The Nightseekers were tolerated before the war, but they must have been wiped out with the Vila.”
She grins. “I suppose we’re about to find out.”

CHAPTER TWENTY
The Briar King had not been exaggerating when he promised my first commission would arrive quickly. I find it as soon as I open my Lair the next morning. A nondescript box waits on my worktable, along with a black envelope. My heart pounds at the sight of the dragon seal on the parchment, at the thought of one of the king’s minions skulking about this place. How did they get inside? Besides myself, only Delphine and Mistress Lavender hold keys to this room. But I suppose there’s little that can stop the Briar King from having his way.
I hold my breath, bracing for the Briar King’s first request as I break the seal and unfold the parchment. The missive is short:
The drinker forgets all matters as instructed by the king. Deliver in a fortnight.
A drinker? Two weeks? I unlock the box. My breath catches. There’s a chalice inside, silver with scrollwork around the rim. It’s not as fine as the crystal flutes served at the royal dinner. This one is simple, meant to blend