Jae almost felt as if she was compelled by the Curse. She stood, Tal’s hand in hers, and followed him through the trees to the bare cliff top. Elan followed behind them, and the three of them stood together and watched the sun as it turned to liquid gold, as the water below dazzled and sparkled and swallowed it, leaving an open, beautiful sky whose stars were reflected on the waves below.

“I’m glad I got to see that,” Tal said, and though his smile was genuine, Jae had never seen him look so sad.

—

Jae hadn’t expected to sleep at all, but she found herself waking as a few rays of early sunlight fought their way through the canopy. Elan was already sitting up and rubbing his eyes, and Tal was pacing. So it wasn’t a surprise when he turned to her and said, “It’s time.”

Jae hesitated, staring up at him.

He stopped in front of her and said, “Jae, ask me if I want to do this.”

She knew there would be a hundred ways he could answer, none of which actually meant yes, but she asked it anyway: “Do you want to do this?”

“No,” he said, but before she could respond, he continued, “But I am willing to do it—and I have to. Just…promise me…”

She watched him, waiting as he chose his words very carefully.

“Promise that you’ll remember me. And when you do, you’ll remember to be merciful.”

Her throat went tight. Of course she’d remember him. She’d remember him with every breath she ever took, every sunset, every drop of water she drank. But mercy…She wasn’t sure a world without Tal deserved that.

But of course, that was why he’d asked it of her. She knew that, just as surely as she knew his smile. He needed her promise because he wouldn’t be there anymore, standing at her side to remind her that even though she was powerful enough to kill, she could also grow flowers.

She caught his gaze and held it, and almost wished she were cursed so he’d know for certain it was the truth when she said, “I promise.”

“Then it’s time.”

When it came down to it, all Jae really knew about magic came from her visions, her instincts, and the scraps of information Elan had found. The web of magic that made up the Well was so far beyond all of that that it was almost impossible to understand, but in her vision inside the mosaic room, she’d seen how the Wellspring mages had bound it all together. So she led Tal out to the edge of the cliff, where Janna had connected the Bloodlines together.

Elan followed them. “I’m here. If you need— If I can—Tell me how to help.”

“There’s nothing you can do,” Jae said, voice hollow.

Elan looked down at the ground, then up one last time. He took Tal’s hand and clasped it in both of his, not speaking. Tal smiled wanly, and their eyes met. Then Elan let go and stepped back to sit near the tree line and wait.

Jae and Tal stood there, side by side, staring out at the Well. From up here, it looked endless, and the sky was perfect, cloudless. Even the air was still. The Well’s surface was a dark smudge beneath them, brightening slightly as the sun rose, gentle ripples dancing across it. It reminded Jae of Gali’s drawings, as though if she stared at it long enough, she might be able to see the picture in it.

But there was no picture, just dawn reflecting back up at them. Falling into the water would be like flying.

“We’ll need something sharp enough to break skin,” Jae said, looking around. Tal cast around, too, found a jagged stone, and handed it to her. It wasn’t exactly Janna’s ceremonial knife, but it would do the job.

“Tell me what to do,” Tal said.

“Just sit,” she said. “For now, just…wait. Just…be with me.”

He nodded, and they both sat cross-legged at the edge of the cliff. When she slid into other-vision, she could feel him. The bright light his energy cast was so close to hers that they were impossible to separate, completely intertwined. The way the two of them had always been.

Reaching out, she felt for the shape of the spell, the ancient framework Janna and her friends had laid out. The Well as a whole was meant to attract and direct water, to seal water to this spot and send it where it was needed. She could feel the Well’s purpose, but as the binding had unraveled, so had its power. As much water as there was now, Jae knew there should be much, much more. Eyes shut, she thought about the way water’s unique energy felt, and she pulled. There was only a trickle in the desert, and she couldn’t feel any farther than that.

When she opened her eyes again, three small clouds dotted the sky. In her vision of Janna and the mages, it had been a rainstorm. This would have to be enough.

The other members of the Wellspring Bloodlines were so far away that they were more like an idea than anything she could sense, but she reached inside herself, reached into Tal, and found the connection between all of them. If she pulled on it, all of the Closest—the Wellspring Bloodlines—would feel it. All the descendants of the mages who’d bound themselves together here, and then been bound again by the Curse.

Sure enough, Tal said, “Everything is…tingling.”

“It’s the other Closest,” she said. “You can feel them all.”

“You know, I like that idea.” He let out a breath, and the glow of his energy expanded as if he were reaching out somehow, even though he wasn’t a mage. “That we’re all connected.”

“That’s the connection that will…that will save everyone,” Jae said.

“I like that even better.”

That brought tears back to her eyes, and she forced herself to concentrate on the magic that was around them now. If she didn’t make herself look away from him, she’d never be able to go through with this. Even so, she was already blinking back tears as she used the stone to tear at her arm, and the tears had nothing to do with pain.

“And now me, I take it,” Tal said.

She nodded. Maybe they didn’t have to do this part—they had the same blood, and the Wellspring Bloodlines were already bound together. But even so, she pressed her bleeding arm to his, let the energy that made up the two of them swirl together and merge.

The Well seemed to sing as she did it. The magic in the Well surged, reaching up toward them, as if it was hungry to have the binding restored. The clouds on the horizon grew thicker and darker, the air heavier.