Page 149 of A Kingdom of Shadow and Ash

He did not see her watching him disappear into the sky.

But he felt it. And gods, it hurt.

…

‘For the tenth time today—no, I am not plotting to kill anyone,’ Vera sighed, attempting to sip her tea, only to lean back in her chair when Wren smacked her palm against the table yet again. ‘The witches are trying to protect the wall because I told them about the Fire King's plan to claim our land. I warned them—nothing more, nothing less.’

Wren and Kage exchanged a glance, silent yet brimming with doubt. The witch was confined to Kage’s chambers—a reluctant prisoner under his watchful, brooding gaze. He had complained about it often, but as a creature of the night who rarely slept and spent most of his time lost in tomes, he made an efficient captor. The valkyrians, on the other hand, had chosen to withhold judgment. Diplomats at heart, they had always dancedcarefully along the edge of conflict, stepping in only when the balance tipped too far towards destruction.

‘I am not plotting anything,’ Vera repeated, exasperated. ‘If I were I would have glamoured myself to look drakonian in front ofthem.’She gestured to the three valkyrians lounging around Kage’s dimly lit quarters, their imposing forms draped in battle-worn armour. ‘Instead, I sit here—fully exposed.’ She lifted her hands, marked with black tattoos, her purple eyes unwavering.

‘Well ya better start explaining yerself,’ Wren said, collapsing into a chair. ‘I’ve neva seen so many witches in me life.’

‘You haveneverseen a witch in your life,’Kage corrected, not looking up from his book. ‘Except for Vera.’

Wren blew a stray lock of white hair from her eyes, ignoring him. ‘I thought witches had gone extinct. Well, not extinct… I just thought there wasn’t so many of ya.’

Vera snorted. ‘Of course you did. Everyone did. We have had to survive as best we could.’

‘So ya came here to help Mal kill Ash Acheron,’ Wren said, eyes half-lidded as she studied the witch. ‘Why?’

The valkyrians stirred, alert now, poised as though waiting for the strike of a blade. Vera exhaled, shifting her gaze towards Wren’s pocket. Her voice, when she spoke, was hoarse with revelation. ‘Because of that black notebook you keep in your pocket. It is a diary, but not the diary of a drakonian maid. It is the diary of Tabitha Wysteria.’

A hush fell over the room.

‘That is impossible.’ Astrid—the blonde valkyrian in armour so impractically sparse that Wren had always questioned its function—took a step closer, blue eyes narrowed. ‘Tabitha Wysteria died during the Great War, she murdered Hadrian Blackburn and then slit her ownthroat.’

Vera tilted her head, unimpressed. ‘Yes, thank you for the history lesson. But as we all already knowthatstory, perhaps you could remain silent long enough for me to finish?’ She turned her attention to Wren. ‘I knowyouwill find it impossible so…’ Her hands sparkled with green magic, and before Wren could react, an invisible force sealed her mouth shut. Wren’s muffled yelp filled the chamber, her hands flying to her face in panicked horror.

‘Have you always been capable of doing that?’ Kage smirked. He watched Wren struggle with quiet delight.

Vera sipped her now-lukewarm tea. ‘As I was saying. This is Tabitha’s handwriting. And yes, we have all believed that she perished in the war. But this proves she did not. It also proves the curse is real. The anniversary of Hadrian’s death draws near, and when it arrives, the curse will awaken. The only way to break it is for Mal to stab Ash Acheron through the heart.’

‘Why them?’ Kage asked.

‘The notebook claims that in order for the curse to be broken, a drakonian royal must be willing to sacrifice themselves to a wyverian, for only their love towards their own enemy will save everyone. The words of the curse say something similar.’

‘And only when the flames break through the shadows shall all be forgiven,’ Kage recited.

‘Yes. The flames—fire. A drakonian. The shadows… well, some say it refers to wyverians, others to witches.’

‘Mal,’ Kage replied. ‘She is both.’

A waver of hesitation passed through Vera. ‘I’m still hesitant on that.’ She gestured at Wren. ‘Maybe our dear Seer canseewhether that is true or not.’ All eyes turned to Wren, who waved her arms in frantic desperation. ‘Or perhaps Mal could explain what we saw her do at the wall.’

Kage cleared his throat, his voice sharp with restrained fury. ‘My sister owes no one an explanation—least of all you, witch. One of our wyverns lies dead because of your kind.’

Vera exhaled a weary breath, her eyes sweeping skyward with theatrical disdain. ‘I do regret the loss, truly. But I’m not the keeper of every damn witch and their whims.’ Not even her sisters, as it happened. But that particular truth would remain unspoken. Only Mal Blackburn knew of her blood-ties to Allegra and Dawn, and she intended to keep it that way.

‘My point is,’ Vera said, her purple eyes dark with something unreadable, ‘the hundred years are nearly spent. In mere weeks, Hadrian’s death will mark its cursed anniversary, and if Mal has not driven that dagger into Ash’s heart by then, the curse will come for us all. The notebook does not whisper what fate awaits, but I do not believe it will be one we are willing to endure.’

The room grew colder. Even the candlelight seemed to hesitate, flickering as though uncertain whether to stay or surrender to shadow.

‘Then why,’ Astrid interjected, her voice sharp with frustration, ‘are the witches at the wall fighting us instead of seeking to break the curse?’

Vera sighed, rubbing her temple. ‘Because, like the rest of the kingdoms, most of them refuse to believe in it. Over the years, many have convinced themselves that the curse, if real, would never touch them. After all, it was one of their own who cast it, was it not? Why would it devour its own children?’

‘And you believe otherwise?’ Kage asked.

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