Page 94 of Crown of Ashes and Awe

“Won’t Agrios be displeased you broke the first one?”

She raised her hands to stop the questions. When everyone was quiet, she smiled. “I had another vision that, until today, I have only shared with my daughter.” She gestured to Rowena, who stepped forward. The look on the daughter’s face was a grimace of pain with flashes of hope, and I felt the same, hoping Moire could somehow ease the agony her daughter tried to disguise.

“My prophecy was this, that a child shall appease the anger of Agrios! Rowena’s child!”

The once receptive audience devolved into shouting and chaos. Some jumped to their feet to argue. Someone pointed out that Rowena has no child. Another suggested Moire was only wishful thinking. And who would willingly sacrifice a child to the severe god?

“No one shall be sacrificed,” she assured them, then together, she and Rowena moved between the benches and continued until they stood behind the spot where the yellow flowers had grown. I remember eating them, one after the other, waiting for them to taste like they should.

It took a long time for the outrage to calm. When everyone quieted again, Moire spoke reverently. “Long ago, when my daughters and I returned from Earth for our safety, Rowena was well along with her child and gave birth soon after. A lovely, red-headed daughter she named Asimi, for purity.”

Tearloch cursed and squeezed my hand. “Asimi means silver, not purity.”

I shrugged, “Maybe it means both.”

He shook his head tersely and strained forward to get Sweeties and Minkin’s attention. Then he nudged Bain and gave them each a look that was unmistakable—be ready.Griffon turned then and exchanged a glance with Tearloch—some silent agreement between men I didn’t understand.

Moire continued. “When our precious Asimi was three years old, I received my vision. I knew the fruition would come well in the future. We had no choice…”

Rowena put her hand over her mouth and sobbed. Moire made no move to comfort her, and it took all my will, and Tearloch’s tight grip, to keep me from running to her.

“We entered Asimi intogevri.”

Gasps came from every direction. Heads shook. A low grumbling went on for a long time—gevriwas never meant for children and younglings.

Through it all, Moire smiled. “But today, we have Prince Ghloir back. We have ended the curse of immortality, and little Asimi will rise and save us all from Agrios’ judgement!”

Rowena fell to her knees before the slab of heartstone, both hands covering her mouth as she keened.

Moire began chanting. I recognized the spell of undoing. When I was young, Demius used to laugh at me when he caught me using the same to fix something I’d ruined. A pane of crystal or a burnt supper—I had no powers to make the spell work. When I’d spoken a spell yesterday, it had been the power of the dragon key that had opened the library with no magic from me.

The slab rose slowly, revealing rounded sides of a box, until three feet of it stood above ground. Agevricell. Anyone placed in such a cell would be preserved indefinitely, the power of Hestia keeping them alive, keeping them whole.

Rowena struggled awkwardly to her feet so she could look inside. Moire slid the slab off the top. She and her daughter peered inside…and Rowena collapsed.

I didn’t want to know what had gone wrong! I didn’t want to imagine?—

“Demius!”Moire bellowed the name with such force that the rows of people and trees and vegetation couldn’t contain it.

Tearloch pulled my hands away from my ears and tugged me to my feet. “Come on.” He signaled to the others. Griffon waved for his wife to go with us, then he turned his back and planted his feet, to prevent others from following. But most people still watched Moire.

We hurried along the side of the structure, bending low to attract less attention. When we were on the far side, I slowed. “I don’t understand. Why are we leaving?”

Tearloch kept me moving. “Because Asimi means silver…and so does Asper. The rest of your life is about to be decided for you, and we can’t let that happen.”

We ran along behind a stretch of shrubbery until we reached a set of tall, scrolled gates, beyond which lay the grounds of the drake house. I could tell by the size of the doors and the smell.

It was there I finally took a stand to argue a point. “Didn’t you hear what she said? The child had red hair. My hair is white. I am not Asimi.”

He nodded. “And sometimes, those who rise fromgevrihave white hair.”

“Wait, wait. Youknew?”If he’d believed from the start that I was Moire’s granddaughter, that put this heartbound business in a whole new light.

He wagged his head. “I suspected. That’s all.” He tugged on my hand, but I resisted.

“Suspected that I was Moire’s grandchild, buried alive?”

“No! I only thought you were probablygevri. But it made no sense. You were a youngling.” He suddenly bit his lips together.

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