Withering Rose (Once Upon A Curse Book 2) (24 page)

Their plan is so simple I'm amazed we didn’t see it
coming.

The general has never been able to bring
troops over the mountains. Cole confessed he's killed many of them
himself. Others were stopped by avalanches, blizzards, and storms.
And the rest, we both think, were killed by the magic we still
don't understand, the spell protecting that woman while she
slumbers peacefully in bed.

But this time, they're not coming through
the mountains.

They're bringing the mountains down.

One mountain to be exact.

One steep cliff.

The one Cole's kingdom rests upon.

For the past few weeks, the general has been
sending soldiers beyond the front line, into the magic realm where
the radar system is useless, and the electricity doesn't work.
They've been scoping out the bottom edge of the cliff, searching
for cracks, weaknesses, and fissures, mapping out the terrain. When
Asher and Jade left, the general had already begun setting up
explosives strategically along those fault lines—dynamite, bombs,
old-fashioned triggers, more devices than I could begin to
understand. But I don't need to understand because I know
enough.

In two weeks, they're going to blow the
mountain up.

And those of us living at the top are going
to come tumbling down.

Simple science.

And the protection spell guarding that
faerie might be able to save her from the fall, but I doubt it will
save all of us. I'm not willing to take that chance.

We have to leave.

There's no other option.

Yet as I sit next to my father's bed, the
very idea terrifies me. Because he still hasn’t opened his eyes.
Skin that was once cold has grown impossibly hot with fever. His
bronze color has gained a horrid chartreuse sheen. In his sleep, he
murmurs unintelligibly. And the only thing that seems to soothe him
even a little bit is the sound of my voice.

How can I move him?

How can I bring him back out into the
cold?

Death if he stays. Death if he leaves.

What am I supposed to do?

"Hey," a voice murmurs.

I turn to find Asher watching me from the
doorway, but I don't say anything. I just return to my father,
brushing the sweat from his face with a cold towel.

He walks into the room and takes the seat
next to me. "How's he doing?"

I frown and shake my head. But I don't
speak. The words are too hard to say. I can't push them through my
clogged throat. I can hardly even think them.

"Jade is still with Cole," he comments
conversationally, filling the silence. "They're figuring out the
best escape route through the mountains, comparing maps and
information. She's better at that sort of thing than I am, so I
figured I'd let the two of them work it out." He shrugs, not at all
afraid to admit his own weaknesses. "I'm better at reading
people."

The way he says it makes me look up.

Those indigo eyes bore into mine as though
he can see all the way to my soul. As though I'm exposed and
there's nowhere I can hide.

And I guess that's what I've been doing in
here.

Hiding from the decision I'll soon have to
make.

"What are you hinting at?" I comment,
getting right to the point. I'm in no mood for games.

But he glances away, eyes going to the pots
filling every corner of the room, the many herbs I brought to life
to try to help my father. "Do you think he would want you to be
doing this?"

"That's not his choice to make," I reply
smoothly, turning back to my father, but Asher traps me with his
stare, examining my expression so openly that I feel the need to
run. My heart pounds under the scrutiny.

"I thought that way once," he says softly,
still holding me captive. "I thought that sacrificing myself for a
good cause was my right. But it isn’t. Not always. Not when other
people are involved. You have to take their wishes into account.
Their choices. Sometimes, the sacrifice isn’t worth it. Sometimes,
all it does is leave the people you're willing to die for with
unmanageable guilt. Sometimes, it's a burden and not a
blessing."

I shake my head. "So I should let him die?
Why? Why should I have to live the rest of my life with the guilt
of knowing I didn’t do everything I could to save him?"

"Because he's your father."

I close my eyes tight as though I can hide
from the words.

But Asher doesn’t relent. "Because you know
this isn't what he would want."

"What do you know about it?" I snap.

"Enough," he replies calmly. "Maybe it would
be different if it was Cole on that bed. Or your father looking
over you. But any good parent would put his child's life over his.
Any loving parent would never choose to save himself if it meant
hurting his child. And I know your father loved you. That's the
only reason he would have risked so much to try to save you."

I lick my lips, swallowing slowly as I
realize something.

Why does Asher think I'm sacrificing
anything?

Why is he speaking like he knows my
secrets?

Like he knows the cost of my magic?

My fingers turn cold. My whole body freezes.
"What aren't you saying, Asher?"

He looks down and fiddles with his fingers
as an unsure expression passes over his face, like he knows he's
about to cross a line that he maybe shouldn't. "I heard something a
long time ago," he says slowly. One of his legs begins to bounce
with pent-up energy. "I didn't remember it until you asked me how I
broke my curse. Something about hearing your voice or seeing your
face, it brought back a memory. You were five, same as me. It was
the second summer we had spent together, though together is
probably too generous a term. I was always chasing after you, and
you were always running away. You were afraid of me, and I couldn’t
for the life of me understand why. So I followed you one day, and I
overheard you talking to your mother about her magic, about the
magic you would inherit, about the magic I was supposed to inherit.
And I understood."

His voice is full of so much sorrow, so much
pain. I reach out, placing my hand on his forearm. "I wasn't afraid
of you."

He shakes his head, finally looking up at
me. "It's okay. I don't blame you." He laughs softly, under his
breath, in a sad sort of way. "I would have been afraid of me too.
Who wouldn't be afraid of the prince who couldn't feel love, who
would one day inherit magic that would steal everyone's emotions
away, who would become king of such an unhappy place? I almost left
after I heard you say those things. I told myself I would leave you
alone, that I wouldn't bother you anymore. But right as I was
turning away, your mother pushed your hair back from your
face."

I suck in a breath because suddenly I
remember. "She told me not to judge you for magic that isn’t even
yours yet. She told me to give you a chance." My gut clenches
tight. "She said maybe if you knew the toll of the magic I would
one day inherit, you wouldn’t want to spend time with me
either."

"I know your curse," Asher confesses.

I thought those words would terrify me, but
for some strange reason they don’t. It's almost a relief to hear
that someone else knows my secret. That someone else knows the full
truth of who I am and what my magic is, yet still came here to
comfort me, to talk to me, to help me.

Unfortunately, words aren’t enough to save
me now.

"Then you know it can never be broken," I
murmur. "So in the time I have left, I might as well use my magic
to keep the people I love alive."

"There was a time I thought my curse could
never be broken. But it was."

I snort. It’s a nasty sort of sound, bitter
and harsh, but I can’t help it. "Well, not all of us are lucky
enough to have a curse like yours, Asher. Some curses need more
than a kiss and a happily ever after. Some curses are made to
stick."

He flinches.

But now that I've started I can’t stop. "If
you have any ideas, I'd love to hear them." My voice is acid,
sarcastic and cruel. "How can I break the curse of time? How can I
make myself live longer when the magic is slowly killing me? Have
you found some cure for death that I don’t know about? Some spell
for immortality? Anything?"

I take a breath.

He remains silent.

The smile normally spreading across his face
is nowhere to be seen.

"That's what I thought, Asher." The fight is
starting to ebb. The sting of my own truths are painful even to me.
"No one can help me. Not you. Not Jade. Not my father. Not even
Cole. Love isn't enough to save me. I'm on my own. Just me and my
curse, alone the way I've always been. So don't tell me how to use
my magic in the little bit of time I have left. I don’t need a
lecture."

"You're right," he says gently.

That kind, caring sound steals what little
fight I had left. My shoulders slump, dragged down by the
hopelessness coursing through me.

"I'm right?"

He takes my hand. "I know you haven't told
Cole about your curse. If you had, he would be doing everything he
could to make sure you stopped using your magic. At least, that's
what I would do if you were Jade, or if I were Cole. But we're not.
We may be engaged." He winks at me, and it's enough to make me
smile. "But we're not in love. And I thought maybe that's what you
needed. Just a friend. Someone to talk to. Someone who isn’t quite
so invested, who can listen to what you have to say without taking
it too personally."

I let his words sink in, not sure if I
should be offended or pleased. "So you're saying you came all the
way here just to tell me that you don’t love me and you aren't that
invested in whether I live or die?"

He nods, open and honest. "Exactly."

I stare at him.

How can he say that with a straight
face?

Is he joking?

Is he—

But then I notice his lips twitch.

Suddenly, I understand why Jade always has
the urge to punch him.

"Asher!" I shake his hand away, annoyed.

"Okay, okay," he jumps in before I can say
anything else and grins. "Maybe that's not entirely true. But I
wanted you to be honest with yourself, to be honest with me, and I
wanted you to know that I'm here for you if you need me. You don’t
need to keep so much to yourself. You can talk to me about the
magic, about the curse, and I won’t say anything to anyone, not
even Jade."

Part of me wants to thank him, but another
part doesn’t want to let him off the hook quite so easily. The
latter wins out. "So, basically, you came here with the sole
purpose of making me angry enough to tell you the truth, all the
while knowing you have no idea how to actually solve any of my
problems."

He frowns for a moment. "Maybe." And then
his face brightens, pale skin suddenly as luminescent as the moon.
"But," he retorts triumphantly. "There was a time in my life when I
was exactly where you are now. I thought my curse could never be
broken. I thought sacrificing myself was the only solution. And if
Jade had never come along, I'd be dead right now. Not alive and in
love and living my happily ever after, as you called it. So, the
moral of the story is don’t give up. Not yet. Because there's an
answer somewhere, we just need to find it."

I nod.

But I don't believe him. Not really.

Asher is optimism personified. And right
now, I feel like the storm cloud brewing in the distance, ready to
rain down on all that positivity and push the sunshine away.

So I change the subject to something I had
been thinking about before, a possible solution to one of my many
problems. "Do you really want to help me?"

"Yes," Asher says, this time serious.

"Then I need you and Jade to leave."

He raises an eyebrow. "Harsh."

I clench my fist, resisting the urge to
smack him again. "Not like that." I sigh, glancing back down toward
my father. As though sensing my gaze, he begins to writhe beneath
the blankets, shivering from the cold yet sweating from the heat.
My hand reaches for his cheek immediately, trying to comfort him,
yet knowing it won’t help. "I'm not an idiot," I confess. And for
once, Asher holds back his witty commentary. "I know my magic isn’t
enough to save my father's life. I know it's useless to keep trying
the same herbal remedies over and over again, and to think somehow,
maybe next time, it might work. But I can't just sit back and watch
him die. He's my father. I love him. I have to try. I can't give up
on him."

"I know," Asher whispers. "When you love
someone, it's impossible to let go. Even when they don't deserve
it."

"But he does deserve it," I urge. My eyes
start to sting as I look into my father's hollow expression, into
those lids that still haven’t opened. What I wouldn't give to just
speak to him again, to say these words and know he's heard them.
"He loves me so much. He's done so much to keep me safe. And I
never appreciated it. I never appreciated him. All he ever wanted
was to be able to see me grow old, to see me free of the curse. And
if I can’t give him that, I want to at least let him know that I'm
happy, that I'll be all right. All I want is a little more time
together."