Page 71 of House of Dusk
But there were no poisoned darts. No ghouls. Only a lofty chamber lit by thin shafts of moonlight lancing through the high windows. A couch stood against one wall, but the heaps of storage baskets piled atop it made it clear no one had sat there in a long time. The desk showed more signs of use. Wax tablets lay neatly stacked on one hand, while the rest was covered in a large square of parchment. Yeneris padded closer, studying the squiggling lines and dots curiously.
“A map.” Sinoe’s breath tickled Yeneris’s cheek as she bent close to whisper. “What do you suppose these marks are?” She reached out, tracing the scattered black dots from the southern coast all the way north to the Veil.
Yeneris shook her head, already moving on, taking note of the shelves full of scrolls and codexes that marched along the far wall. The long workbench cluttered with jars and pots and small braziers. A large trunk in another corner, bound in bronze. And the arched corridor that must lead to the inner chambers, veiled in a darkness so deep it seemed to devour her vision.
Then a spark of light bloomed, chasing them back. Sinoe held up a tiny oil lamp, the flame half shielded by her hand. Together, they advanced on the corridor.
The quivering light glinted off a bronze gate, a crisscrossing web of bars sunk into the stone. Yeneris could see no lock, no mechanism of any kind. Sinoe swore so colorfully Yeneris turned to make certain it was truly the princess beside her, and not a sailor from dockside. “Can you open it?”
“I don’t even see a lock,” said Yeneris. “It must be hidden. I’ll keep looking.”
Sinoe nodded, drifting away toward the shelves, where she began riffling through the papers.
Yeneris searched the gate from top to bottom, feeling for any secret latch, any loose twist of metal that might be the hidden key. She found nothing. It could be elsewhere in the room. Or maybe it was something the man himself carried. Yeneris had no idea what the true extent of his abilities was.
Hsss.
Yeneris tensed. Was it only her imagination? The echo of Sinoe’s movements? Or had something moved in the darkness beyond the gate? She leaned closer, pressing her ear to the bronze bars. All she could hear was the thud of her own heart.
Up until now, Yeneris had thought the greatest risk was discovery. Being spotted by one of the household, caught by a patrolling guard. But looking into the darkness beyond the gate, she felt a deeper, nameless terror. Like staring up into the depth of the night sky, not at the stars but at the darkness between. A sense of something her mind could not fathom.
Sinoe gave a small cry of triumph, dragging Yeneris back from the void. She shook herself. Just a fancy. Just her mind spinning to fill the unknown. She left the gate and went to see what Sinoe had discovered.
The princess had pulled a large scroll from the shelf and unfurled the bottom, revealing a series of short stanzas inscribed in ink.
“Poetry?” Yeneris asked, dubiously.
“No,” Sinoe breathed reverently. “Prophecies.”
“Your prophecies?”
“Yes. Look, here’s the last one.” She ran a finger along the lines, reciting them. “Long has the old enemy watched and waited. Now he seeks to strike his second blow, and the world will not survive it. The first light must reveal the weapon of unmaking. When it isfound, when the Maiden steps forth from flame to take her rightfulplace, only then shall the old enemy fall.”
Even in Sinoe’s own natural voice, the words seemed to hum, to have weight and heft. Yeneris shivered, thinking of the man with the Serpent’s mark. The blood. The smoke. The screams.
She swallowed the sour taste of the memory. There was something else written below. “What’s that? Another prophecy?”
“No.” Sinoe bent closer, reading. “Her rightful place? At his side, or mine? Is it possible she might finally—No. Enough, old man. You lost her long ago. This is no time for foolishsentiment.—The dagger is all that matters now. And she will lead me to it, just as the first prophecy foretold. I have only to go to the House ofDawn and find her. But I must be cautious. If she remembers too much it could unravel all I’ve worked for.”
Yeneris shook her head. “I understand the part about the dagger and the House of Dawn. That was in your prophecy. But what’s the rest of it mean? What first prophecy? And who’s the ‘she’ he’s talking about? It can’t be the Maiden. They already have the kore’s bones.”
Sinoe’s brow furrowed, her lips moving slightly as she reread the notes. “Unless...” She looked up then, hazel eyes catching the glint of the oil lamp, so that she seemed to be a flame herself. “‘We don’t even know if it’s the kore or some other maiden.’ That’s what you said the other day.”
Yeneris sucked in a breath. Then blew it out. “But if it’s true, if Lacheronknowsit, why take the kore’s bones in the first place? Why go to war? Spend thousands of lives?”
“That’s a very good question,” said Sinoe. Her jaw tightened, and she turned back to the scroll. “Let’s see how far back this goes. Here, hold the lamp.”
Yeneris took the small bronze vessel, holding it aloft as Sinoe unfurled the scroll with a feverish energy. For several heartbeats, there was only the slap and ripple as a long spool of parchment snaked loose across the stones.
“Here,” she said, finally reaching the beginning of the scroll. “My first prophecy.” Her jaw tightened, her eyes stormy. “I was only five. I remember Father saying he had someone who wanted to meet me. A sort of physician, who could help me with my bad dreams. All I had to do was breathe in some smoke and it would make me feel better. He promised. But I was so scared. It smelled bad, and I didn’t want to have any more nightmares, and they wouldn’t even let Mother hold my hand.”
Yeneris flexed her own chilly fingers, seized by a wild urge to reach out and take Sinoe’s hand in her own. A belated comfort. But the princess had already lifted the parchment. “Long has theEmber King waited, denied his final victory. But what wasshattered shall be remade. The Maiden who once turned from the world hasnow returned, to reveal what has long been hidden. And if he claims it, even the gods shall tremble before him.”
“Is there another note?” asked Yeneris.
“Yes. But all it says is, ‘Finally. Finally it will end.’ Not ominous at all.” She began furling forward. “Let’s see if he has anything more to say about the war. It should be somewhere around—ah, here.”
Yeneris leaned closer, following over her shoulder as Sinoe read the words. “The Maiden shall grant him power, or deny it. He will not know her at first, for she bears another name now. But what she faces across the sea will unmake her, and she will return to seek rebirth in flame. Only then, at last, shall they be reunited.”
