Page 131 of Crown of Darkness
“This belongs to Eris of Silvernaught. It is full of blood and tears, she assures me. A worthy meal.”
There’s hunger there in her dark gaze. But fear too. “The Devourer.”
“No. My friend.”
She slinks from her throne, barely able to hide her eagerness. “You’re a little fool if you think her your friend. Eris of Silvernaught is prophesied to swallow the moon whole. If that thing inside her gets loose, then she will drink in the souls of all that walk these lands.”
I want to ask.
I want to know what Eris hides.
But it’s not my place to demand answers of another. Eris will tell me if she chooses to do so.
“Do we have a deal?”
The oracle snatches the vial from my hands. “We do.”
“Promise thrice,” I insist, relaxing only once she says the words.
Slipping the cork from the vial, the oracle dips her fingers inside, coating them in the shiny, silvery substance within. She licks it from her fingers, shivering in delight at the taste. A gasp escapes her. And then another, and she finally tips the entire vial to her lips and swallows it down.
I resist the urge to look away.
There’s something a little carnal about her response—as if she’s on the edge of pleasure. That forked tongue darts out, sliding inside the vial until she’s secured every last drop, and as I watch, she blooms before my eyes.
“A worthy memory,” she rasps, crushing the vial in her fist. “Ask your questions, little queen.”
“The Crown of Shadows was lost to mortal memory,” I tell her, knees flexing, so that if she so much as moves toward me, I’m ready to flee. “But you’re not mortal. And they say you remember everything.”
“Is that what you truly wish to ask?”
I ignore her. “I want to know where the Crown of Shadows is.”
A smile paints her curved lips. “Aye. I remember the fate of the world. I remember what these lands were like before you Bright Ones invaded from beyond the stars. I remember the trees, and the singing, and the way we danced in our Hallows and gave gift to the Old Ones there. And then your kind came and hunted the forests until we were forced to flee. They bound the power of the Hallows and killed half of our Old Ones. They—”
“Killed the Old Ones?” You cannot kill one of the Old Ones. You can only trap them. I thought that was why the Hallows were first bound—the only means the Alliance of Light had of locking them away.
“There were hundreds of our gods,” she murmurs, eyes glittering with rage as she watches me. “Only the most powerful survived and waged war on the invaders. Some of them were locked away. Others were killed. And a rare handful were forced to hide.”
As long as their people believe in them, the Old Ones do not die. Which means…. “Some of them still survive? Free?”
There’s a smile on her face. “That’s a secret for another day, little queen.”
“Why would you tell me this?” This kind of information could be dangerous in the wrong hands.
“Tell me,” she says, instead. “Why did you make a bargain with the Mother of Night?”
I see Thiago’s desperate face, his hands chained behind his back as my mother orders his execution. “Because I was desperate.”
“Your kind hate my kind. I don’t believe you.”
“Because I needed the power to break my mother’s curse.”
“Lie,” she whispers. “Or only half the truth. Not even the most desperate of fae kind would turn to the Old Ones for help. We are the enemy. We are the vile creatures that haunt the night. We are death and despair and ruin, according to your stories. You knew the cost would be high. You knew there had to be answers elsewhere. So why did you do it?”
I turn away, pacing to the edge of the swamp. A sleek black head bobs up through the murk, merciless black eyes locking on me, before the selkie vanishes into the waters again.
“Why treat with the enemy?” The oracle pushes. “You know the dangers. It is forbidden by all your people.”
