Page 79 of Blade of the Nightking

“Segolayne.”

The maid stepped forward at once, already reaching into the pocket of her apron for a thin notebook and pen.

“Ready,” she said, pen poised.

Levinica drew in a deep, steadying breath. Her slender white hands rose, one coming to rest against Rìan's cheek, the other against mine. Her fingers were cool, almost weightless. Immediately, her eyes filmed over, turning milky white.

And then I felt her. Inside me.

It wasn't like Rìan's dreamwalking, which forced and tore and took. Levinica's magic was different—an immense eye opening upon the deepest part of me. Its gaze swept through the darkness of my being, revealing all my deepest corners.

Then something loosened. From deep within the marrow of my bones, Levinica's magic drew three shimmering threads into the light, their prismatic colors shifting with every heartbeat. As they rose, three threads of gleaming silver answered them, strong and unyielding. They found one another, crossing, twisting, parting, only to entwine again, weaving an intricate tapestry that stretched beyond the limits of my understanding.

The pressure of Levinica’s hand against my cheek increased. Her fingers curled faintly against my skin, like she was bracing herself for what came next.

A wind stirred through the room despite the closed terrace doors, lifting her ebony hair on a phantom current. And when her mouth opened again, the voice that came out was not hers but something else entirely—a layered chorus, monstrous and terrible:

“Three gates sealed in ages old,

Long forgotten, power cold.

The missing bone will break the state,

Riven by Seven, carved of fate.

Open flesh, unmake the thread,

Each must yield the first blood shed.

Drink, once you have been judged thrice⁠—

Past and longing claim their price,

Last, the truth your heart would shield.

What lies within shall be revealed.

He who holds the missing limb

Bends life and death to suit his whim.

Keep it sealed, whatever cost,

Lest all the world be lost.”

Levinica’s grip slackened.

Her fingers pulled away from my skin, the pale film receding from her eyes. She lurched suddenly, dragging in a great, shuddering breath, as though surfacing from deep water. Rìan caught her as her strength gave out, steadying her before she could fall.

My ears rang with what I'd just heard. It was as if something ancient and monstrous had spoken through her, as though she were nothing more than an open doorway.

Rìan looked over at Segolayne.

“Got it.” She flipped the book shut and tucked it back in her apron pocket.

Rìan bent and pressed a quiet kiss to the crown of Levinica’s head. “Thank you,” he murmured into her hair.

Levinica’s chin quivered. “Dannis… He wasn’t there. She… she doesn’t know.”