Page 64 of Vicious Is My Throne

So fucking lost, running through a maze with only dead ends.

I shouldn’t have ventured in here. Shouldn’t have taken the chance. And for what? To learn things we already knew.

The Oracle’s mind was a pit, filled with awful, creeping things grasping with clawed fingers at my ankles as I ran and ran and ran.

I raced through her twisted mess of memories, some going all the way back to our old world where keystones were scattered like pebbles amongst dark-as-night sand and a deep ravine hummed with silence.

Some memories were as recent as this very moment, her hair whipping wildly against her face as wind roared through the broken-out windows of the Wynter Palace.

But no matter which memory I found myself inside, I couldn’t find my way out.

Worse, she was right behind me.

Nipping at my heels like I was a worm on a hook.

Stalking me with the patience of an experienced predator, toying with me as I raced between memories, desperate to find the way out.

But I was too tangled up in the endless loop of endless time.

Until…

I stumbled into a darkened room, face-to-face with the knife lying on an altar of clear glass, magic glinting off the sharp edge. The pendant—sans chain—fit perfectly into the end of the pommel, the red stone catching the flickering candlelight.

A fierce-faced witch stood chanting over the weapon, hands raised. She was dressed in worn battle armor, scuffed and dented, long silver hair cascading down her back in waves. No crown adorned her head, but power thrummed from her in endless, rolling waves.

Her star-flecked magic crackled through the air like freshly struck lightning.

That familiar power echoed in my chest, in every beat of my racing heart, rolling over me with such delicious, hypnotizing temptation I closed my eyes and lost myself inside it for one astonishing moment.

Between us, the newly forged blade gleamed like the metal had never been touched by anyone’s hand or the blood of an Old God, and I realized I was watching the blade being made.

For such a momentous occasion, she was the only one here. A weapon forged in secret, then, where I was the only one to bear witness to the past, or a memory of the past. But how…

My brow scrunched.

Why was this moment burned into the Oracle’s memories?

Why would Gelvira bear witness to the forging of a weapon meant to destroy her and her kind?

The words she uttered made no sense, a smattering of Old Valarian and a language no longer spoken, but the cadence was beautiful in the way language became a lilting melody that ran together like water, cresting in time with the waves of magic emanating from the witch’s raised hands.

I moved closer, the toe of my boot snagging on a loose stone, and the witch’s face snapped toward me. I lost my breath when I saw her eyes. Pale green like the first tender leaves of spring, rimmed by black lashes. Sharp jaw set with resolve as strong as steel. Her nose speckled with faint freckles like a baby trout.

That could be my face in thirty years.

My eyes. Me.

“Anaria Centaria.” The witch’s mouth twisted into the Oracle’s cruel smile. “There you are. Don’t you know eavesdropping is rude? Did you really think you could trespass into my head? Steal my thoughts with no consequence?”

She tsked as my mirror image vanished, replaced by the Oracle herself. “To be trapped in the past is a fate worse than death, and this”—the Oracle scanned the room—“happened very long ago indeed.”

I swallowed at the look of cunning satisfaction on her face as she stared down at the weapon. “Memories are like treasure, hidden in the blood. All one has to do is delve deeply enough to find them, and now I’ve found yours, Princess.”

Her laughter curled around my ribs. “I always wondered how she did it.” She hovered over the knife but made no move to touch the blade. “Now I know. Thank you for showing me this, Anaria. Now I know what I must do next.”

Fuck. Fuck. Shock and horror reverberated through me as I realized—too late—what I’d done.

She dropped her arms, brushing back her hair. “It would serve you right if I left you stuck in this memory forever while your body shriveled up to nothing outside in the real world.”

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