Page 64 of Raven's Dawn

within these halls.

Only the sky,

will catch your fall.

The key is near,

I promise thee.

Find the deer,

and you’ll be free.

Once we all had recited it, he nodded slowly. “Good. Now?—”

The golden, shimmering light started at our feet again. It stretched higher, encompassing our heads, then spread out in a circle once more.

The bushes parted.

Not one entrance, not two, but too many to count. Too many for me to count.

“Ten,” Laila murmured. “It wants us to split up.”

“Not happening,” Jeremy said.

“I don’t like the idea either,” Graham said. “But you were one of us once. You know how these things work.”

“And I don’t give a shit,” Jeremy snapped. “The lady of the lake just said to protect our brides. We have four women here—who do you think she meant? If we split up, we can’t protect them.”

“I’m so tired of people thinking they need to protect me,” Rain said under her breath.

“But if it’s guiding us in ten separate directions, it’s because we have to,” Graham said. “If we don’t?—”

“It’s not happening.” Jeremy’s voice rarely got so low, which was its own intrinsic warning. If we didn’t do as we were told, he would drag us in the direction he wanted by the hair on our heads. “The sky will catch our fall. That’s what she said.” He turned around, tilting his head back to look up. “Look for something that stands out.”

So, I did.

Partly because I didn’t want to argue with him, and partly because I liked the idea of staying together. In horror movies, when the cast broke up, that was always when shit hit the fan. I did not want shit to hit the fan.

Scanning the sky, squinting, I looked for something spectacular. Unhelpfully, it all looked spectacular to me. Back home, I often had a decent view of the night sky, but nothing compared to this.

I swear I could see entire galaxies, without even a telescope to aid me. Suddenly, I understood why ancient peoples believed heaven had to be above us. It was like a blanket of jewels. Bright, encapsulating, and full of life. Each star, each comet, each nebula burned bright. They throbbed and twinkled and sparkled and?—

“There.” Connor pointed to something behind me. I spun, following his gaze. Too low to be a star, too high to be a dragon or any other flying creature, a golden orb floated in the distance. “Think that’s it?”

“Think what’s it?” Jeremy asked.

“The yellow ball thingy,” Ezra said.

“That yellow star?” Jeremy pointed deep into the cerulean sea above, a few feet to the right of where the rest of us were looking.

“No, baby,” Laila said. “The glowing yellow ball.”

Slumping his shoulders, he cursed under his breath. “I don’t see a yellow glowing ball.”

“Probably because you didn’t drink the wine,” I said.

“So much for being a guide.” He harrumphed. “Alright. Join hands. Let’s follow the yellow ball thingy.”

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