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“Sera?” Worry invaded Elyse’s chest, eradicating any solace she’d gained over the last hour. As she squeezed Sera’s hand, trying to provide some form of comfort, a helplessness flowed from her racing heart through her veins.
And just like that, it was over. Sera blinked her eyes open and let out a long, shaky exhale. The pain she’d felt a moment earlier seemed to vanish, though her face was still ashen, her eyes distant.
Elyse frowned, her concern lingering. “What was that? Are you all right?”
Sera nodded and exhaled again as color slowly returned to her cheeks. “Yes, I’m fine. It’s just—I’ve been having these… visions.”
“Visions?” Elyse repeated. She’d never seen anything like that before—not from Sera or any other clairvoyants. “Is that normal? It looked excruciating.”
Sera gently rubbed at her temple. “They are quite painful. Would you mind steeping some tea for me?”
“Of course,” Elyse said as she quickly moved to the kitchen and grabbed the kettle. With one eye still on Sera, she asked, “Have you had visions before?”
Sera shook her head, then winced at the motion. “No—I mean yes, I’ve had this same vision a few times over the past week. But until then, I’d never experienced anything like it.”
Elyse noted a faint apprehension in her friend’s voice, one that was stark against her usual cheeriness. After a moment’s hesitation she asked, “What did you see?”
Sera fidgeted with her hands in her lap, avoiding Elyse’s wary gaze. “It’s… awful,” she said softly.
Elyse turned and gave Sera her full attention.
Sera’s voice was quiet, haunted even. “People screaming, bodies falling to the ground. And so much fire.”
The dread that had abated now wholly returned to Elyse. She stared at Sera, who stared back at her with a look of pure torment.
Elyse knew enough about visions to understand that seeing fire and death was bad—very, very bad. But why was Sera experiencing them all of a sudden? Sometimes visions were related to the seer, yet other times they were inexplicably random.
“What do you think it means?” was all she could manage to ask.
Sera pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her long arms around the silky fabric of her skirts. Her voice was barely more than a murmur. “Nothing good, I’m certain.”
Elyse abandoned the kettle and strode to her friend. “If you keep seeing the same thing, maybe it hasn’t happened yet,” she said, forcing hope into her voice. “Maybe we can prevent it.”
Sera bit her lip, her beautiful purple eyes void of their usual light. “I thought of that, but I don’t even know where to begin.”
Elyse had no idea where to begin either, but something tugged at her. She felt reinvigorated, like fate had taken her by the shoulders and shaken her from her languid state. This could give her purpose, something to do in her vast free time. She would probably have to sneak out of Jaime’s property again, but it would be worth it if it meant stopping something horrendous from happening. She would worry about Jaime, and her own safety, later. For now, she needed information.
“Tell me everything,” she demanded, kneeling before the settee.
So Sera did.
Chapter 7
- Killian -
Killian lay with the map in his hands, the soft mattress beneath him as a single candle brought a dim light to his room. He turned onto his side to view the map better, taking in each color-coded dot with the utmost attention. The blue dots, as small as pinpricks, were the most numerous. They spread across the entire parchment like thousands of glittering stars.
Using a spell he found in one of Elyse’s books, Killian had enchanted the map to show every encounter of magic across the kingdom. Each blue dot represented an instance of minor magic—perhaps an incantation whispered over a potion or a simple levitation spell. The green lights, which were slightly larger than the blue, were the next most common, sparkling like the tiniest emeralds known to man. Wherever green shimmered was a slightly more complex spell, like transportation potions hauling someone from one place to another. There were just a few amber circles that radiated across the kingdom, representing more serious magic. They were especially common at night, when tavern brawls ran rampant, and teenagers summoned spirits.
Killian had spent weeks tracking down each of the yellow-orange dots that surrounded the capital, investigating for any signs of Elyse, but after so many dead-ends, he’d lost hope in the map’s ability to lead him to her whereabouts. Still, each night and a good part of each day, he studied the map. Sometimes as he dozed off, he would imagine the person behind each dot.
Scorned lovers taking revenge on their cheating partners. Overwhelmed housewives enchanting their dishes to wash themselves. Courtesans using spells to enhance their appearances.
But now he was too unsettled to play his little game. He’d been that way ever since he’d met with Siamus, as if he expected a letter from the mercenary at any moment. Surely the Bastards worked quickly—had they really not found her yet?
“Untouchable,” Siamus had called Elyse. And perhaps that was truer than Killian wanted it to be.
Or perhaps she is dead.
