Prologue
“Iknewyouwouldcome.”
Jerah took a nervous step back across the threshold of the hag’s hut and into the swamp as the rasping voice cut through the darkness.
“Though I am surprised you made it this far.” The almost-mocking tone of the sourceless words gave him courage, and he stepped fully back inside.
“I do not come alone,” he shot back, peering into the darkness. A fruitless endeavor, but even a glimpse of the creature might slow his racing heart. “I brought the others with me, the leaders of the last shifter clans. As you asked.”
“Yes, I know.” A loud creak came from the corner, and Jerah could almost see a shape stir. He felt its eyes trained on his every move, but still he could not discern the visage of the hag. “Please, have them join you. I have a gift for you all.”
Instinct told him not to look away, that the danger was right in front of him, ready to strike and devour in a moment. But reason told him that the hag had invited them here, that she had no reason to wish them harm.
Whatever magic the hag possessed made all outside her home deaf to her words. He took a breath and looked back to his three companions, who met his glance with questioning eyes. Then Kallik, leader of the wolves, stepped forward.
“Is everything all right?” he asked, brows furrowed in concern.
“She says to come inside,” he answered, trying to shake himself and the others into action. He hoped his voice did not sound as nervous as he felt. “All of you.”
Kallik did not hesitate to step forward. Torsten and Tetsuo shared an uncertain glance, waiting to see which would be the first to defect and flee; but when neither seemed willing to do so, they followed begrudgingly. The disdain was plain on each man’s face.
“We're all here,” Jerah said as the four stepped inside. They were huddled uncomfortably close in the darkness, unable to discern anything further in. The light from the open door did not seem to chase away the shadows inside the hut, ending suddenly where they stood.
“Please, sit,” the same grating voice answered.
In an instant the door shut, and dim light illuminated the interior. Four chairs scraped along the floor, pushed toward them with an unseen force. More magic, Jerah knew, but he was glad of it. Now he could finally make out the appearance of this sitting-room: a low table stood in front of the four chairs; shelves on each wall towered high above them; crammed upon them were a dizzying assortment of books, trinkets, jars of alchemical ingredients, and strange plants in pots big and small. The mess grew along the floor as well, giving way to the open hearth that crackled alive with fire. The hearth itself was adorned with some small paintings and jewelry—almost cozy in appearance, a strange contrast to the rest of the hag’s den.
And for all the oddity of the scene, as if she had always been there, enthroned opposite them in a huge, cushioned armchair, was the hag. She was far taller than any humanoid the four had ever seen. A long curtain of greasy, dark hair half-hid her face, and her limbs spread out like great branches—long and immense, even for her size. An amused grin broke across her face as they regarded her, and she reached toward the table to present them with a teakettle and five cups.
“My guests,” she said, her voice clearer now though still with the same unsettling tone, as if she were speaking for the first time after many years of silence. “I offer you refreshments.”
“Thank you,” Jerah croaked. He sat stiffly on the very edge of the chair with his back straight, ready to jump up and flee at the first sign of trouble. The three men had followed, and watched, and slowly sat down as well. The hag set about pouring tea into each of the five cups with a satisfied smile, then waved a lazy hand toward them.
“Please, choose whichever you'd like,” she said. Jerah could all but feel the other three frown in suspicion. He did his best to return her smile though he could feel his face twitch in surprise as well. What was she trying to accomplish?
But he knew he had to play along. For all his host’s eccentricities, whether benign or malicious, it was known in every corner of the Veil that hag magic was the closest to the old magic, both in its power and its corrupting influence. Whatever she knew, however she knew it—he needed her information. She would not have asked him to come if he had not needed it.
The five teacups in front of him all looked the same: a creamy off-white with blue floral accents, though the pattern was slightly different with each one. He did not know what any of it meant. What he did know was that the others would not act before he did, so he simply grabbed the cup closest to him. Jerah could feel his companion’s eyes on him as he slowly lifted the cup to his lips and took a hesitant sip. His eyes locked on the hag, and she watched him with the same unblinking, unmoving smile.
The tea was hot and tasted perfectly mundane. Typically, he took his tea with a small spoonful of sugar, but it seemed to him that, for now, it would be best to simply drink what he was offered and get on with it. He took another long sip before placing the teacup back down on the table. Only then did the others follow suit.
Jerah watched as, true to form, Kallik lifted the cup to his mouth, following his lead without question. It was comforting to have at least one ally in this wretched place. The other two seemed to hesitate as always. Torsten glared openly at the hag, and Tetsuo peered into the cup as if to discern its contents by sight alone. Finally, after a tense moment of silence, they too drank. Her smile widened at that, and her eyes brightened. This close, Jerah could see that they were a vivid purple—lovely in any other face.
“Is it to your liking, all of you?” she asked, glancing in turn between the four of them. “I must admit I have never had four kings in my home all at the same time before. I hope my manners don't offend.”
“No complaints here,” Jerah replied with a strained smile, as she took the last cup and lifted it to her lips. He tried not to stare at the odd angle of her elbows as her arms unfolded to grasp the cup from the table and bring it to her lips. “We would hate to impose, madam, so I will get right to it, though I assume you already know why we are here.”
“Oh, yes,” she said, nodding. “You heard the call of one of my little birds. I had hoped at least one would reach you. Without this knowledge, a door will be closed to you.”
Before he could reply, her eyes darted down to the cup in her hands, then she brought it up again and began to drink deeply. The four men waited in silence as she gulped audibly three, then four times, and at last set the empty cup down on the table in front of them.
“I bring you a gift, king of the fae,” she said in a voice loud and clear as a bell. Once again, the hag gestured toward the teacup, and Jerah looked to see a small smear of tea leaves at the bottom of it. “And this is my offering.”
He frowned, for a moment certain he had been made a fool of, but then the tea leaves began to glow with a light of the same purple hue as the hag's eyes. The glow spread to her hand that still held the teacup, then snaked up her long arm before flashing in her eyes. When she spoke again, the four men heard not her voice alone, but a cacophony of voices.
“I give you this knowledge, King of the Winter Court,” she said, her glowing eyes trained on a spot far beyond them. “It is from your line that the scourge of light will finally emerge. A Changeling prince may bind your four kingdoms in unity, with a crown of darkness to bring an end to the Nova Blight that corrupts our Veil. If he heeds the call of the Golden Arrows, our world may yet be saved.”
The pounding in his heart felt like thunder now. The glow in her eyes began to fade, and the room fell silent. Only then did Jerah feel the howling wind that had burst through the room at her utterance, rustling through her books and the leaves of her plants in a shower of white noise. The other three had their hands on their weapons, though thankfully none had drawn them. Torsten and Tetsuo had locked eyes with the hag; Kallik watched him closely, ready to follow his lead. Jerah steeled himself, knowing there was no going back. What had he come all this way for?
