The Deck of Omens (The Devouring Gray #2) - Christine Lynn Herman Page 0,118

up. But the world isn’t like that.”

“I know it isn’t,” Violet said. “But we have to be. We’ve always been meant to guard the forest, right? I don’t see why that has to change. But we can’t guard it by lying about it. We guard it by being honest about how our ancestors messed up. Even if it makes us look bad. Even if they can’t forgive us.”

Because Juniper was right that there would be more people like Richard. More people like the Church of the Four Deities. But there would be more people like Violet and Isaac and May and Harper and Justin, too, she hoped. If they told the story right.

“It isn’t going to be easy,” Violet continued, squeezing her mother’s hand. “But even if they hate us, if it means this never happens again, it’s worth it.”

“I don’t know where you get that bravery from, Violet.”

“I do,” Violet said softly, the wounds in her stomach aching as she stared at the woman who had somehow walked through hell and come out the other side.

Violet spent three days being treated for her wounds and another night under observation before they let her go home. To her surprise, Augusta Hawthorne had taken to Violet’s proposal more easily than Juniper had. By the time Violet went back to school, Augusta had issued a public statement describing the facts of what had occurred, then promptly tendered her resignation as sheriff of Four Paths.

With the announcement came endless unwanted attention?—stares, rumors, and strange DMs. Violet did her best to ignore it all. She had other things to focus on, like her recovery. But it did not escape her notice how much time Augusta had started to spend at the Saunders manor.

And so she was radically unsurprised when her mother sat her down the week after she came home from the hospital and launched into an awkward speech about changes.

“I know it’s been quite a year for us,” Juniper said, “and I have promised you honesty, so in the interest of total transparency…”

“I know you and Augusta are dating again,” Violet said, which earned her a sigh and a rather rueful look from Juniper. “What? You expected me not to notice that she’s basically moved in here?”

“I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” Juniper said, wringing her hands. “I know that we have a lot of complicated history between us, and I know that the two of you haven’t always gotten along.”

Violet had been thinking about that a lot lately. May had shared the full truth of Augusta’s past, and while it was not an excuse, it still felt like valuable perspective. Juniper and Augusta had both lost so much. She was glad on some level that they’d found each other. She was leaving for college in a few months anyway, and she would not get in the way of the happiness that they had fought so hard for. As long as Augusta behaved herself, anyway.

“Mom, it’s cool,” she said gently. “Just tell her to stop trying to cook for us, because she’s really bad at it.”

And that was that.

There was one more thing, though. Something Violet had been studiously avoiding, something she had grown immensely gifted at shoving into the back of her mind. But it would not disappear forever, and it found her shortly after she talked to Juniper about Augusta as she sat at the piano, fiddling with the final notes of the Gray Sonata. She had originally planned for the last movement to be loud and furious, emphasizing the minor key before fading into an uneasy silence. But Violet had decided, now that she knew the whole story, that it was better to include a key change. To resolve the chords back to major, just for one brief moment?—and then bring the minor chord back in again.

She didn’t want all of this to be forgotten. But she did hope that it could be forgiven.

Orpheus was curled up on the couch beside the piano bench, sleeping. She’d worried about him, but although the tether between them was gone, he seemed utterly fine. Whatever magic they had given back to the forest was clearly enough to sustain him?—he belonged to Four Paths, and he seemed to enjoy the kind of second life it had given him, one where he was the permanent lord and master of the Saunders manor.

She was playing with the chord progression, thinking of those last few moments where the Gray had disintegrated around her, when Isaac