WHAT THE VIAL GREW

Isabella

The photograph stayed hidden in the hollow of my bedpost for two days.

I did not sleep much during those two days. I spent the time rebuilding Riley from memory, piece by piece, because I wanted to be wrong so badly that the wanting shamed me.

"Riley came back in autumn," I said to my wolf on the first night. "Do you remember that autumn?"

"I remember," my wolf said.

"He left for six weeks on border patrol," I said. "When he returned, he had extra coins for Noah's potions. He said it was bonus pay."

"It was more coin than border patrol pays," my wolf said.

"I know," I said. "And he went quiet whenever anyone mentioned the prince. He always changed the subject."

"You noticed that," my wolf said.

"I noticed it but I did not ask," I said. "I was too grateful that he helped us. I did not want to question him."

"You trusted him," my wolf said.

"I trusted him because he was kind when no one else was," I said. "He brought bread when we had no money. He fixed my mother's chair. He soldered his own buckle in our tavern."

On the second night, I took the photograph out again and looked at the buckle.

"That chip is mine," I told my wolf. "I soldered that chip myself two winters ago, when he dropped it in the tavern. I know it is his."

"You are sure?" my wolf asked.

"I am sure," I said. "I would know my own work."

On the third night, Matron Vanya arrived unannounced. The guards opened my door without knocking and she entered alone.

"Leave us," Vanya said to the maids.

"But Matron, we are supposed to stay," one maid said.

"Leave us now," Vanya said again, and her voice was sharp.

The maids left and Vanya closed the door.

"Why are you here?" I asked her.

"Because the Rite is in three days and no one has explained it to you properly," Vanya said. She looked tired. "I decided you should know what will happen."

"Explain it then," I said.

"They will bring a temple sapling into the hall," Vanya said. "The sapling is rooted in ash and it is held against the candidate's mark. If the line is Vine, it blooms silver before the entire court."

She said the word Vine as though it burned her tongue. I saw her mouth tighten.

"What happens if it blooms silver?" I asked.

"Then the court will know who you are," Vanya said. "And some will try to use you and some will try to end you."

"I do not understand why it is dangerous to be Vine," I said.

"Because Vine was supposed to be gone," Vanya said. "Your line was supposed to end with Seraphine."

I sat down on the bed because my legs felt weak.

"You said you would offer me something," I said. "What is it?"

Vanya took a small crystal vial from her sleeve and placed it on the table. The liquid inside was clear.

"This will dim the mark until the sapling reads only a plain crescent," Vanya said. "One drop on the mark before the Rite and the silver will not show."

"Why would you give me this?" I asked. "You work for the palace."

"I worked for your mother before I worked for the palace," Vanya said.

"You expect me to trust a gift from someone who breathes palace air?" I said. "I have learned not to trust gifts from anyone who breathes palace air."

"That is wise," Vanya said. "You should not trust me easily."

I picked up the vial and held it to the light. My wolf sniffed at it inside my head.

"What does it smell like?" I asked my wolf.

"It smells like nothing," my wolf said. "There is nothing wrong in the liquid. And yet I feel still when I smell it. Unnaturally still."

"Why would it make you still?" I asked.

"I do not know," my wolf said.

I looked back at Vanya.

"I will test you," I said to her. "If you knew my mother, you will know her song."

"What song?" Vanya asked.

I hummed my mother's lullaby, the one my wolf showed me in the dark. I hummed it softly and I watched Vanya's face.

Vanya's hands began to shake when I hummed the second line.

"Where did you learn that?" Vanya asked.

"My wolf showed it to me," I said. "My mother used to sing it to me."

"Stop humming it," Vanya said. Her voice was urgent.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because that song has a third verse," Vanya said. "And your mother stopped singing it the night she left. She stopped because it was dangerous to sing it inside these walls."

"What is the third verse?" I asked.

"I will not say it here," Vanya said. "Speaking its words inside these walls is dangerous. The walls listen."

"Then tell me something else," I said. "You said the stranger who visited Noah was asking for it."

"Yes," Vanya admitted. "The stranger who visited Noah was asking for it. He wanted to know if your mother ever sang the third verse to you."

"Did Riley ask about the song?" I asked. My voice shook.

"I do not know a Riley," Vanya said. "The man who came to the border was not from the village. He wore a plain coat."

"Did he have a chipped buckle?" I asked.

"I did not see his buckle," Vanya said. "I only heard that he asked about the song."

"Who told you that?" I asked.

"Your mother told me, before she left," Vanya said. "She said if anyone ever came asking for the song, I should warn her daughter."

I felt cold.

"Why should I believe you?" I asked.

"You should not trust anyone who claims to have known Seraphine," Vanya said. "Myself included. That is the truth."

"It is the most honest thing anyone in the palace has told me," I said.

"Then listen to the honest part," Vanya said. "Do not use that vial unless you are sure you want to hide. Hiding will keep you alive during the Rite, but it will also keep you from knowing what you truly are."

"And if I want to know what I truly am?" I asked.

"Then you must let the sapling read you," Vanya said.

She stood up to leave. She stopped at the door and looked back at me.

"Do not tell James about the vial," Vanya said.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because James cannot decide this for you," Vanya said. Then she left.

After Vanya left, I sat alone with the vial in my hand. I did not trust it enough to put it on my skin.

"My wolf, what should I do?" I asked.

"Test it first," my wolf said.

I touched one drop of the liquid to the stone windowsill, reasoning that a poison would simply sit there and do nothing. I thought it would dry or leave a mark.

"This is a safe test," I said.

"Yes," my wolf said.

I watched the drop for an hour. It did not dry. It sat on the stone and it seemed to sink a little into the cold surface.

I went to bed and left the drop there. I did not sleep. I watched the windowsill through the night.

By morning the drop has sprouted a thread of silver vine no longer than a fingernail, curled toward her collarbone as though it recognized her.