Page 61 of The Queen's Box

“You, who know nothing of duskwyrms, presume to have a greater knowledge of them than me?” Amira said sharply.

Willow drew back.

Amira calmed herself. Dropped her irritation. Smiled and tilted her head. “Our difference in opinion is not important. What matters is this: To see a duskwyrm is rare. To see multiple wyrms is even rarer. For one to actually approach you? It can mean but one thing. You, Willow, are ready.”

Hope swelled in Willow’s chest. “I am? For what?”

“To see the Box. You want that, yes?”

“Yes. Yes!” Willow felt lightheaded. “More than anything!”

“Of course, for it is your destiny,” Amira murmured. She nodded, and Willow nodded back, captivated by Amira’s glittering pupils.

“You will pass through the Box and go to Eryth,” Amira pronounced. “And there, you will do great things.”

Thrilled, Willow clasped her hands and looked up to see Cole’s reaction. “Did you hear that, Cole? Me! I’m going to do great things!”

“Sure you are,” Cole said wryly, and the spell Amira had woven wavered.

“What?” Willow said, her spirits dashed. “You don’t think so?”

“Pay him no mind,” Amira said. “He doesn’t believe in you.”

Cole glared at Amira. “Oh, I believe in Willow. It’s you I don’t believe in.”

“But Iwantto do great things,” Willow said plaintively.

“And you will,” Cole told her. “Just not as Amira’s puppet.”

“Willow is nobody’s puppet,” Amira said. “This decision is hers alone. But what she and I know—and what you, Cole, cannot—is that shemustgo.” Amira sought and claimed Willow’s attention. “It is written in the stars, Willow. You know it is.”

“How conveniently vague,” Cole said. “What ‘great things’ are we talking about, Amira? Can you be more specific, or is the one-size-fits-all hero’s journey the best you can do?”

Amira locked her eyes on Willow’s. “You will go to Eryth because... because there’s something there you need.”

“Someone,” Willow clarified. “And he needs me just as much as I need him.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Amira said. “He’s . . . in trouble.” She searched Willow’s expression. “No, he’s . . .”

“Ill!” Willow cried out. “He’s ill, and if I don’t reach him soon, he might—” She broke off. The thought was too terrible.

“I need to save Serrin,” she said, quietly but firmly.

A brilliant smile broke across Amira’s face. “To save Serrin! Yes. Of course. You must go to Serrin—and quickly!”

Relief made Willow go boneless because Amira knew. Amira understood. Willow might not trust Amira on everything, but Amira had seen Willow’s destiny written in the stars, and it was a destiny wrapped around Serrin.

Willow’s dreams had been real all along.

Cole scoffed, the rough sound shattering the moment. “Serrin? Who the hell is Serrin?”

“No one you need concern yourself with,” Amira informed him.

Willow shifted uncomfortably, the air between the three of them pulled taut. She opened her mouth—to clarify, perhaps, or to soothe—but Amira guided her up and out of her chair and toward the door.

“Wait,” Willow began. She couldn’t leave now, not when answers were finally surfacing.

“Return tomorrow,” Amira proclaimed.

---