Page 16 of Curses and Casualties
Ethan pulls out the crumpled piece of paper Scarlett’s father gave us from his pocket. “Yes. But there’s no Amara or a Crossroads tavern on here,” he says, smoothing out the list on the table.
Darius leans forward, his amber eyes scanning the paper. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Ah, I see the confusion. That’s because that’s a list of supernaturals who reside in the city. The tavern isn’t in the city.”
Ethan’s brow furrows. “What do you mean? If this isn’t the city, where is it?”
“It’s nowhere,” Darius says simply.
“What?” Ethan scrunches up his face. “We have to be somewhere. Make that make sense.”
Amara and Darius share the kind of look that only couples who’ve been together for a long time can manage, a silent conversation passing between them that holds volumes. The satyr’s pipes crescendo in the background, and for a moment, I swear I can see the air shimmer between them. Amara turns back to Ethan. “The Crossroads exists in a place that’s both nowhere and everywhere all at once. It’s a sanctuary between realms, accessible only to those who truly need it.”
“Or those who know the right trap doors to stumble through,” Darius adds with a wink.
I feel my head spin at this information. “So, we’re not in the city anymore? But we only walked those tunnels for... what, an hour at most?”
“But were those really tunnels or were you just walking in circles? And did time really move?” Darius asks.
“What?” My head hurts, and I rub at my temples. The glow under my skin flickers with my confusion.
Amara chuckles lightly. “Time and space work differently here. It’s part of the magic that keeps us safe and hidden from those who would do us harm.”
“Are you saying that if you didn’t want us here, we’d still be wandering those tunnels?” Scarlett asks.
“Exactly,” Amara says.
“Gol-ly.” Scarlett sits back and lets out a steady puff of air. “Witches really are cool as shit.”
Chapter 7
Georgia
“Let’s talk about why you’re here.” Amara turns to me and Ryan, and the playful atmosphere in the booth shifts—even the ambient noise of the tavern seems to dim. “You’ve come looking for safety, of course. But what I think you really need is knowledge and some allies. I can help you with both.”
“Why?” Ethan asks, ever the skeptical one.
Amara’s lips twitch into a half-smile, the kind that carries more sorrow than amusement. “Because this isn’t just about the Soul Bond returning,” she explains, locking eyes with both Ryan and me. “This quest you’re on involves all of us here in this room and beyond. The magic our world is built upon is fading. We are dying. And without the renewal your bond promises, without fulfilling the prophecy, our oblivion is certain.”
Ryan sets down his tea, the ceramic clicking against the wooden table. “There’s a prophecy?”
He and I exchange a quick glance, our thoughts reeling through our bond. We were aware that some thought the return of the Soul Bond was imperative to shifterkind’s survival. But we had no idea that the entirety of the supernatural world depended on it as well.
All connected,Luna murmurs weakly.What affects one, affects all.
Amara nods solemnly. “Yes, a prophecy that speaks of a pair, soul-bonded, whose unity will herald a new era of balance and harmony among all magical entities. But”—her tone becomes tinged with a warning—”there are those who fear change, who would do anything to maintain the status quo, even if it means the destruction of everything we hold dear.”
“I don’t understand,” I say, the prick of fear pressing on the backs of my eyes. My glow dims with my distress. “How are Ryan and I responsible for saving everyone? I mean, I’m just some random person who fell on a rock then became entangled in a world I had no idea of. What is it about the two of us being together that’s supposed to save everyone?”
Ryan reaches over and squeezes my hand as he addresses Amara. “I don’t think either of us expected our bond to carry so much weight. Destiny is responsible for bringing all fated pairs together, so we accept that our union is meant to be. We can even understand how a bond like ours could help strengthen shifterkind in the near future. But how is it that our love could essentially be the linchpin for the survival of all magical beings?”
Amara presses her lips into a thin line, clearly choosing her words carefully. “Everything supernatural is connected through a web of magic, much like a tapestry woven with countless threads. Your Soul Bond acts as a vital thread in that tapestry. Imagine, if you will, a tapestry fraying at the edges, each thread weakening under the strain of time and conflict. Your bond is like a golden thread capable of not just repairing that tapestry but also strengthening it against future wear.”
Ryan and I exchange glances. “But how?” I ask, understanding less the more she explains.
Amara stands, smoothing down her flowing skirts. “Come, let me show you something,” she says, beckoning us to follow her toward a large, ornately carved door at the end of the room.
As we walk through the tavern, I notice how the other patrons watch us with a mixture of hope and curiosity. A small brownie bows as we pass, and the vampire at the bar raises his glass in what seems like a salute.
Inside is a sitting room of sorts, books and bric-a-brac cluttering almost every surface. The air smells of old paper and sage. Above a mantle is a painting, the scene depicted very much like the one from Ryan’s cabin where the first wolf shifter fell in love with the moon goddess and was granted the power to transform.
