When we came to the clearing Mrs. Redmond gazed up at the garden wall as thick ropes of euphorbia snaked their way to mingle with the ivy.
“I tried to get here on my own,” Mrs. Redmond said breathlessly. “Knowing it was there and not being able to reach it . . .” She laughed lightly.
Her injuries made sense now. “How’d that work out for you?” I asked angrily.
Mom let out a choked yelp as Mrs. Redmond pushed the knife against her throat. “Wanna keep running your mouth?”
I clenched my teeth so hard I thought they’d break.
“I tried to reason with Circe and with Selene,” Mrs. Redmond said, pushing my mom toward the gate. “They wouldn’t listen. Maybe you’ll be smarter than they were.” She shot me a pointed glance. “Open the gate.”
My mind was racing. Mrs. Redmond had the knife so tight against my mom’s neck that droplets of blood were running down her throat. I didn’t have any other options. I took the keys from around my neck and unlocked the gate.
“Mrs. Redmond, please don’t do this.” I didn’t know what her plan was, but she seemed absolutely desperate. She had no idea how dangerous this was.
“In,” she said firmly.
I led the way into the garden.
Mrs. Redmond surveyed the front part of the garden. “Keep moving.”
“We can’t go back there.”
“Why not?” Mrs. Redmond asked.
“You know why,” I snapped.
She smirked. “So you’ve started to put it all together?”
She prodded my mom forward. At the threshold to the Poison Garden, and as the full moon began to shine down on us, I turned to face her.
“Please,” I said. “Mom can’t go in, and neither can you. It’s not safe.”
Mrs. Redmond glared at me. “You think I don’t know that? You think you’re special? Descended from Medea herself, immunity running in your veins! What good does it do when you don’t even know what to do with it?”
“How do you know so much about me?”
“You think you’re the only one descended from greatness? Think harder, sweetie.” Mrs. Redmond scowled as I struggled to understand what that meant. “You’re a descendant of Medea, but I am descended from the man who made her what she was—Jason himself, great-grandson of Hermes.” She tilted her face to the sky in silent reverence.
The story said Jason had taken another wife after Medea, and now I understood why Mrs. Redmond was on the verge of killing my mother so she could get her hands on the Heart. She and I were on opposite sides in a millennia-long family feud.
“Jason didn’t make Medea who she was,” I said angrily, remembering the story Alec had helped me decipher. “Her abilities came from something else, not from some murderous, power-hungry asshole.”
“Nobody even remembers her name. Everyone knows of Jason and the Golden Fleece. Medea is an afterthought. She was pathetic.”
“You think you know everything about her? About me? You’re wrong.”
“I know you’re uniquely situated to cultivate the Absyrtus Heart,” said Mrs. Redmond. “You are the only one left who can. But can you wield its power? Are you fit to handle that kind of responsibility? You didn’t even feel a pull to this place. I had to lead you here.”
She was wrong. I had felt a connection with the house, the people who’d lived here before, and the garden itself. It was why I didn’t want to leave, but her taunts revealed what I’d suspected. “You forged all the letters.”
“All of them except the map. Circe left that behind. Did you enjoy your little scavenger hunt? This place is impossible to get into even with the key to the outer garden, but I did try, Briseis.” She held up her mangled arm. “And then to realize it was locked away even farther than I’d imagined and I didn’t have the god-damned key?” She laughed maniacally. “Maybe it was luck or fate or magic that led you to the final key, but now that you have it, you can get me the one thing I’ve been searching for my entire life.”
A sickening thought bloomed in my mind. “Did you kill the woman from the bank?”
Mom inhaled sharply.
Mrs. Redmond narrowed her eyes. “I did what I had to.”
“You said she was your friend.”
She flashed a crooked, wicked grin. That had been a lie, too.
“I won’t get it for you,” I said. “You can’t have the Heart.”
Mrs. Redmond raised her hand and brought the butt of the knife down onto my mom’s head. She crumpled to the ground. Mrs. Redmond bent over