Page 76 of Curse of Darkness
I’ve faced impossible odds before.
And for the first time, I stare at the destiny in front of me.
A child whose birth was orchestrated by the old gods. A child who straddles both worlds. A queen who will break apart Unseelie.
The saithe oracle promised it too. She demanded that I seek out the prophecy that spoke of my coming and read the entire thing. Maybe that’s what I’ll do if we survive this and get the chance.
“The written remnants of the prophecy are no longer whole,” the Mother says.
“That’s incredibly creepy, you know?” I rub my tired face. “If it’s not whole, then how do I read it?”
“What is a prophecy?”
“A vision of the future, granted to a prophet.”
“How?”
“Through visions or dreams….” The second I say it, I know how it came about. “A dream. It was gifted in a dream, wasn’t it?”
Maybe we’re so closely linked I’m picking up her thoughts too.
“It was granted in a dream, yes.”
And there’s only one repository of dreams on this entire cursed continent. “Darkness’s black breath. QueenMarenhas a copy of the prophecy at her court?”
I’ve seen the fabled Tower of Dreams, where Maren’s dreamthieves and spies spin dreams into glass globes so that others may consume them at a later date.
The Mother smiles.
Maren’s court is practically impenetrable.
“You can’t simply tell me what it says?”
“I don’t know what it says. I’m not omnipotent. But first things first, Vi….”
Squaring my shoulders, I shove that little snippet about the prophecy to the back of my mind. “If I free you, will you protect Amaya? Even if I fall? Even if Thiago falls? I want you to promise you will protect her with your life.”
Sadness blinks through her eyes. “I will protect Amaya with what is left of my life if you free me.” She repeats the statement. Once. Twice. Thrice.
The deal is done.
Swallowing down the pain and fear inside me—something I am so very good at doing—I reach behind my neck and unlock the chain around my throat. “I have his soul. How do we bring him back?”
“Take me to the water’s edge,” she whispers.
Curling the amulet in the palm of my hand, I gently lead her down to the water. The Mother of Night kneels and places her palm flat on the surface of the lake.
Golden light reflects across that dark mirror, chasing away the vicious phosphorescent glow of those hungry lights. It gleams like a rising sun, warming the water, warming the air….
Water surges.
Thiago’s body lifts to the surface on an enormous flat rock, individual stepping stones appearing in the still, dark waters of that lake.
I can’t stop my breath from catching.
He’s so pale.
So still.
