Iree had more demands of Dorothea. “Now, Atlin. Everything will get a lot better for you if you agree to cooperate with me. If you say you’ll do what I tell you on the battlefield, you can leave this place. Olyen will be safe, and the two of you can go back to your old lives. It won’t be difficult.”

All Dorothea had left was the truth. “I’d rather die than do a single other thing for you.” What she’d just done was for Rhys’ sake, no one else’s. If he wanted his pain gone, she had no right to deny him.

Iree growled with impatient rage. “Just do it, you cu—!”

“Let’s give her a day to stew,” Hollyhock suggested, taking Iree’s arm before it could follow through on grabbing at Dorothea’s hair once again. “In the meantime, I’ll just make it clear what her hesitation is costing others.” He paused. “Cool?”

Iree sighed. “Fine. Take care of it.” Dorothea felt her glare in her back. “You get one day, Atlin. Just tell Hollyhock when you’re ready to comply.”

“Did you know about the contract too?” Dorothea asked Hollyhock once Iree had stalked up and away from them.

“Nope. Kind of surprising, isn’t it?” he laughed. “But Iree’s right. Doesn’t really matter at this point. We’ve come too far.”

“That’s not true.” The words sounded so empty. All the hopes she’d had felt so foolish and misguided.

Hollyhock didn’t reply and instead drifted to the cell on the right side of Dorothea’s. “Morning!” He dragged a limp form from it.

Gren. His arms had been removed at the elbow with jagged cuts and cauterized with fire, black flakes of skin drifting down as they shed. He, too, had been stripped and cut, rendered to his most vulnerable core. Up the stairs they went, his body thudding step by step.

Though she waited with bated breath, all was silent for a while. A cry reached her then, evolving into screaming and the crash of a heavy object hitting the floor. Her fault. Everyone was getting hurt because of her, and holding out would only make it worse, wouldn’t it? Iree was right, wasn’t she… Dorothea had barged in thinking she could solve others’ problems using whatever methods suited her, not even stopping to realize how outnumbered she was. Hoping that everyone would come to agree with her own version of what was right had been nothing but arrogance. They already had their convictions; she was an interloper, valuable only for her magic. That was probably the only reason she was alive.

Hollyhock didn’t bring Gren back down until he’d fallen quiet. He was tossed back into his cell, and they were left alone in the dim once Hollyhock departed. Pleas rose in Dorothea’s throat, words of complying to anything and everything that was asked of her, but all that came out was a whimper. Was there any use in resisting? Iree had offered one day. As if they even needed that long to break her.

She couldn’t tell how much time passed before she heard Gren stirring. “Hey…!” she gasped, almost breaking down from the relief of hearing his breathing change. “You’re alive!” She’d been terrified he had expired right next to her, that a corpse would rot there. But wasn’t that just selfish? Whether he lived or died wasn’t something she had a right to be concerned about when it was her confession to Hollyhock that had landed him here in the first place.

He spoke up in a creaking voice. “I’m surprised too. On both of our parts.”

“True…” A sob rose in her with sudden violence. “I’m so sorry,” she cried, falling slack and bowing her head towards the ground. “I’m sorry for everything, Gren.”

“There’s no point in wasting your energy thinking about me. Spend your time figuring out how you can convince them to release you.”

“What…?” Leave him behind and save herself, in other words.

“They’re giving you a chance to walk away. Accept that and cut your losses.”

“How could I…?”

He misinterpreted her aghast utterance at the prospect of abandoning him as a request for advice. “Show them that they’ve broken you and that you’ll never defy them. That’s what they want.”

“How are you so calm?! They’re going to kill you!” But why wasn’t he dead already? “Why are they doing this to you…?”

“I’ll become an example. Public execution, I’d bet.”

The Sacerians would relish the one blamed for the war being destroyed before their eyes, true. She could see it clearly. “Why…” She’d been so foolish to imagine that there could be a pretty conclusion wrapped up in a silken bow.

Gren let out a soft breath. “It was always going to end this way.”

He was right. They all were. There had never been a point to her involvement other than to be used. That had been her existence all along. She wanted to scream and wail at the injustice, but her will was gone. Maybe… Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to just give them their way. It was over. Things could go back to how they had been before, her comfortable life of ignorance, if she just did a few things and helped them end this… She closed her eyes, letting the irresistible, dark flow wash over.

Without meaning to, she had fallen unconscious.

She stood on the edge of a sharp, jutting cliffside. A waterfall descended from it, and Dorothea could see sharp rocks waiting at the bottom. The dreamscape that felt like reality had become familiar to her, but she didn’t care enough to be mystified anymore.

“Where are you, then?” she called out, newfound anger the only thing giving her the strength to stand. “What cryptic message do you have for me now?!”

She spun around at the sound of bubbling and sloshing. That damned sparkling fish peeked just above the surface. It stared with a fathomless gaze.

Dorothea’s hand scraped the ground, drawing a small rock into her fist. “Leave me alone!” The stone thumped against the fish’s head and plopped into the water. Dorothea was breathing hard, and she sank to her knees, then bent over, pressing her forehead to the ground. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” She’d ruined everything once again. The horror, the pain, the aching hole of her crushed hope, it all amalgamated into a scream that was drowned out by the noise of the water.

“The juncture has arrived.”

“What…?” Dorothea looked up, blinking away tears.

“The juncture has arrived.”

“That doesn’t help! Please, just tell me what to do!” she wailed. “Someone, please help me! I can’t be left all alone again!”

“The juncture…” The fish leaped from the water to land in front of her, and Dorothea recoiled with a gasp. It flopped about uselessly and in a panic out of its element.

Dorothea shuddered at its helpless, breathless gasps. Despite her attempts to get it back into the river, however, it flailed against her efforts to prevent them. She was about to yell at it again, but a new sight that tested every ounce of her logic froze her.

Arm began to emerge from its gaping mouth. Hands gripped either side, spreading it wider and wider until the skin ripped and cracked. The skin was shed to reveal shoulders, a head, a long torso, a full human body, pale and thin.

“Apologies for my cryptic phrases up until now. I am limited by this place and regular form.”

“What, what, what,” Dorothea gasped. “What’s happening?”

The face before her looked so much like her own. Gray hair and lavender eyes, tired eyes. She got the sense that those eyes had seen times and places that she couldn’t comprehend, however.

“I cannot maintain this alternate form for long. Please, Dorothea, listen to me.” Thin, weak hands took her face between them when she started to speak. “All around you in this universe, pathways are converging. It was myself and my peers that saddled our descendants with the burden. Because of that, here and now, you have a choice to make. There is a way to save the one you love and will love as well as yourself. But you must keep fighting.”

She only had more questions. “But what can I do?” Her pitiful hands had already let so much slip through.

“Latch onto hope and kindness. Let those things serve you well. Combine them with your might, and you will be able to see your chosen path through.”

“Can those things really change the world? Isn’t it too late?” she whispered. The touch of this unknown being was filling her with serenity. The scenery around them was blurring with gentle light.

“We are out of time.” A forehead rested against hers, and a wave of relief washed over her from the point of contact. “Dorothea. My descendant. Please. Follow your chosen path. End this war. If I may ask this of you…” They winced as a tremor wracked their body.

Dorothea clung onto their arms as the world around them began to fade. “I can’t do it! I’m too weak!”

“That you made it to this point proves otherwise. Have faith. Of all the converging timelines possible, you have survived to this point. Consider all you wish to attain and all you have gained rather than focusing on the lost. Forge ahead. Please. For yourself, and for all of us.” They closed their eyes. “We are out of time.”

Dorothea couldn’t see or feel anything anymore. Was she waking up?

“Find my letter! Find the man of roses and the man of memories, and they will give you the key to life!”

These were the last things she heard before pain overtook her senses once again. It was strange. The feelings she had when near that strange, ethereal being were familiar. She had felt them when she prayed, when she used her magic, when her limitations were pushed to the edge of breaking.

But were they enough to bring her out of despair?