Page 173 of Crown of Darkness
And with a click of my fingers, I tap into the power of the Hallow and step back into the real world.
It’s becoming a little easier each time.
But I see the relief on Thiago’s face as he drags me out of the circle and into his arms. “What did she say?”
“Nothing. But she’ll protect me.” I give a rough, bitter-edged laugh. “She has no choice.”
* * *
I starethrough the open arch of the Hallow at the full moon that floats through darkening skies. Not quite night, though the caress of it darkens the horizon. Soft footsteps pad through the snow behind me, and I know before I turn who they belong to.
“You,” I say dully.
Grimm curls his tail around himself, staring at me. “Well?”
“Well, what?” I snap. “Have you not done enough?”
“For a creature with such large tapered ears, you do not seem to listen very well.”
I’ve had enough. I rest my hand on the hilt of my sword and stalk into the Hallow, where Eris is dumping weaponry in preparation for our trip to the Black Keep.
“Ask me again when the moon is full, your heart is torn in two, and you have no more hope remaining,”he calls.
And my feet slow.
My heart beats with rage. The others are waiting at the Hallow for me. And my daughter—
But I slowly turn around. “You want me to ask how Maia defeated Sylviannow?”
He looks pointedly at the full moon.
“Fine.” I stalk toward him. “Tell me, o wise one…. How did Maia defeat her sister-queen? How does any of this help me find my daughter?”
“Tell me about Charun.”
I swear….“I don’t have time for this—”
“Yes, you do.”
I gnaw on the inside of my cheek. “Charun was an ancient Hallow that was destroyed when Maia battled Sylvian.”
“It was an origin Hallow,” he corrects.
“Fine, it was an origin….”
And a stray thought occurs.
The origin Hallows are where the Old Ones are bound into their prison worlds. But Charun was never one of the prison Hallows—there was no Old One tied to that Hallow. It was destroyed thousands of years ago. And there were only thirteen Old—
Wrong, whisper my instincts. There were dozens of Old Ones that the otherkin worshipped. Pages and pages of them in Imerys’s book.
The image of those three moons sear themselves in my mind’s eye, and suddenly they’re superimposed by the golden lines of three moons bound together—the symbol for the Daughter of the Three Moons.
Suddenly, there’s a furry gray cat in my vision, staring at me smugly.
“Behold,” he mocks. “The pieces fall into place.”
“I don’t understand what this has to do with anything. The Hallow at Charun served the Daughter of the Three Moons, who no longer exists. I’d thought the Mother of Night absorbed her into her mythos and stole her worshippers, but how does Maia fit in?”
