Page 19 of Realms of Shadow and Sun

Phillippe didn't respond to the Murcurial, but looked at his siblings carefully, his eyes conveying a warning more potent than words. “They are tricksters who try to change your destiny!”

“Only partially right, Phillippe Snowden. Know your future, I do. It's you who decides whether or not to try and change it.”

The Murcurial moved slightly towards Selenia, and Grayden instantly shielded his sister. The Murcurial laughed again, the sound rattling Grayden's nerves. “Missing your mate, Grayden Snowden? Would you like to know if you're reunited? If the pretty Sun Princess will ever be your bride?”

Grayden's eyes widened. The offer was incredibly tempting; his desperation for Renya clouded all aspects of his judgment. The thought of knowing, of having some certainty in this sea of doubt, was almost overwhelming. But Phillippe's warning rang in his ears, holding him back from accepting the Murcurial's offer.

“Grayden, don't listen to her,” Phillippe urged, his voice tight with tension. “Their riddles will drive you mad, trying to find meaning in the ramblings.” Once again, he attempted to position himself between the Murcurial and his siblings, his protective instincts in full force.

The Murcurial's gaze shifted to Phillippe, its black, lash-less eyes unblinking and unsettling. “You will enjoy the feeling of power, Phillippe Snowden. But you'll have to choose. Would you rather love, or magic? For you shall not have both.”

Phillippe's face paled at the prophecy, a flicker of fear crossing his features before he steadied himself. “Stop it! I'll not hear my fortune!” he cried, lunging at the Murcurial with a desperation born of fear and anger.

But the moment he made contact with the spot where she was hovering, the Murcurial vanished like mist in sunlight. The sudden disappearance threw Phillippe off balance, and he stumbled, barely catching himself before he fell.

A chill ran down Grayden's spine as he realized the creature could appear and disappear at will. How could they fight something they couldn't even touch?

Before he could voice his concerns, the Murcurial's raspy voice came from behind them. “Selenia Snowden...you grieve for the wrong man. The one you are meant for is in pain, yet instead of caring for him, your heart is torn for another. Silly girl. You know nothing of true pain and true love.”

Selenia whirled around, her face a mask of shock and indignation. But before she could retort, the Murcurial reappeared behind her, snatching at her cloak with boney, decaying fingers. Selenia screeched and tried to push her off, the sound of tearing fabric filling the air.

“I just want your pretty mantle. Then leave you alone I will,” the Murcurial crooned, its voice a mockery of gentleness.

Grayden's protective instincts flared. “Why should we believe you?” he demanded, his sword drawn and pointed straight at the Murcurial. The blade gleamed in the moonlight, steady despite the fear coursing through him.

The Murcurial stared down the sword, her eyes black and unblinking. There was no fear in its gaze, only a sort of amused curiosity, as if Grayden's threat was nothing more than a child's game.

“Your mate carries a secret. One she has not told you, one she might not even know herself. Would you like to know if she'll live to reveal it?”

The words hit Grayden like a physical blow. A secret? What could Renya be hiding from him? And the implication that she might not live...He felt his resolve wavering, the temptation to know almost overwhelming.

But before he could respond, Selenia acted. With a swift motion, she unclasped the arctic fox pin holding her cloak together and threw it at the Murcurial's feet. The silver pin glinted as it fell, landing with a soft thud on the forest floor.

“Here, begone!” Selenia cried, her voice ringing with authority. “Leave us be and speak no more!”

The Murcurial glanced at the offering, then bent to retrieve the cloak. Her boney fingers extended from the rags she wore, and Grayden felt slightly sick as he looked at flesh rotting off the bone. The sight was grotesque, a reminder of the unnatural nature of the being they were dealing with.

“Many thanks, Selenia Snowden,” the Murcurial said, its voice taking on an almost sing-song quality. “We'll meet again, you know. Next time, it will be you who seeks me out. Bring me a handsome payment and I'll serve you well.”

“Never,” Selenia spat out through clenched teeth. She moved farther back into the canopy of trees, as far away from the creature as she could get. Grayden could see her trembling, though whether from fear or anger, he couldn't tell.

With another maniacal laugh, the Murcurial slunk back into the forest, a cloud of mist surrounding her. After a few seconds, she had completely disappeared, leaving behind only the lingering scent of decay and the echo of her laughter.

Grayden let out a shaky breath, his mind reeling from the encounter. What did the Murcurial mean? A secret Renya was keeping from him? The thought tore at him, planting seeds of doubt that he tried desperately to push away.

Phillippe approached Grayden and rested his hand lightly on his shoulder. The touch was grounding, pulling Grayden back from the brink of his spiraling thoughts. “Don't worry about it, Grayden,” Phillippe said softly, his voice steady despite the lingering tension in his posture. “Murcurials love to entertain and frighten us with their fanciful talks of the future. Father said they downright lie just for the fun of it.”

Grayden nodded, grateful for his brother's reassurance, but he still couldn't push the worry from his mind. The Murcurial's words had struck too close to home, playing on his deepest fears and insecurities.

Selenia came to his other side, visibly shaken from the encounter. She was shivering, partly in fear, and partly from her missing cloak. Without hesitation, Grayden pulled off his fur and wrapped it around her slender shoulders. She gave him a grateful look, pulling the warm fur closer around her.

“Do you think there's any truth in her words?” Selenia asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do they ever tell the truth?”

Phillippe scratched his jaw, his fingers running through the full beard that covered his face. The gesture was familiar, a habit he'd picked up from their father. “It's hard to say,” he admitted after a moment of contemplation. “But you mustn't dwell on what she said. That way lies madness. Fae have gone crazy trying to discern meanings in their protestations. Just forget what you heard.”

Selenia nodded, but Grayden could tell she was focusing on the Murcurial's words as much as he was. The creature's prophecies had struck chords in all of them, touching on their deepest fears and desires.

“Why did she want Selenia's cloak?” Grayden asked, trying to make sense of the strange encounter.

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