Rowan Switched's Arc

Chapter 21 of 25

Rowan hit the graveyard wall with the red bottle warm against the chest and the moon a hand above the ridge. The gold serum still coated the throat, thick and sweet. But the red bottle was untested. Elara had named the price but not the taste. A father's unsung song sat in the glass. If the mix went wrong at the wall, Rowan would drink silence, not sound, and the deed would void at the third note. Rowan crouched by the stones and pulled the cork half a turn. The smell came up like iron and pressed cherries. Nothing on the tongue yet. Nothing safe about swallowing a stranger's debt one breath before the note. Rowan needed a test, and the moon would not wait for a careful one. Elspeth Moonwhisper stepped through the wall as if the wall were curtain. Her bare feet made no mark on the frost. "You are holding a bottle you have not tasted," she said. "Do not drink it blind. Not tonight." Rowan asked how to test it without spending the dose. Elspeth said, "A drop. On the tongue of something that already sings. If the drop kills the song, the bottle is wrong for you." Rowan thought of the treehouse past the low field, the one strung with dried herbs and small jars. The witch's haven. Rowan ran. Inside, a caged finch turned its head. Rowan set the red bottle on the plank table and asked the room for a carrier. On the shelf sat a bright pink jar, sugar-water with a magical sheen, made to soften rough medicine. Rowan tipped one drop of red into the pink jar and stirred with a splinter. The mix stayed clear. That was the first sign. Rowan dipped the splinter and touched it to the finch's water dish. The finch drank. The finch sang. The note came out whole and clean and did not break in the middle. Rowan counted to twenty. The finch sang again. The red bottle was true. Rowan drank the tested drop from the pink jar to prove the carrier on their own tongue. The throat opened, not closed. Rowan corked the red bottle and ran back to the graveyard wall. But the test had cost minutes. The moon now sat two hands above the ridge, past the mark Luna had named. Rowan had the safe bottle and a shorter window. One breath before the note, no time to fumble the wax. Rowan pressed against the stones, unstopped the red bottle clean, and swallowed. The father's debt slid down and settled beside the child-song already owed. Rowan lifted the deed to the open sky. The three notes waited in the chest, and the moon kept climbing, and the watchers Rowan had not yet seen moved somewhere beyond the wall.