“The merchant wasn’t interested in bloodstone.” He glances up, a wistful warmth in his eyes. “Or gold. In fact, it’s quite possible I’ve met the love of my life this dae. Either that or she just wanted a quick fuck against the bookshelf.”
Oh.
“Good for you,” I intone, not wanting to think aboutloves of life. Of Kaan’s lips brushing against my temple back in the burrow at Dhomm, nor the final words he passed me.
“Come back to me, Raeve. To us.”
I screw up the cloth and toss it at the wall, watching it slump into a puddle of blood.
Such a beautiful, miraculous male. Such questionable taste in romantic life partners. If he could see me now, I’m certain he’d agree.
The lark in my pocket wiggles free, dashing up to bop my nose—its wings and body covered in blood from my previous lark-handling.
I wince, catching it.
“Sorry.” I pry the poor thing open, my heart stumbling over itself when I see the tiny script. Familiar.
Beautiful.
Kaan’s.
Moonbeam.
I swallow, squeeze my eyes shut. Open them again, my breath catching at the faintest hint of his creamy, robust scent still clinging to the parchment.
I keep reading, eyes widening a little more with each barbed word.
A moonfall is coming.
Our miskunn’s foreseen a catastrophic event. Many will fall, and all at once.
Though she’s unsure when exactly it’ll happen, she believes it’s still a number of cycles away. Perhaps seventeen to twenty, based on the glimpse she caught of the aurora ribbons.
I’ve opened the doors of the Imperial Fortress so my folk can take refuge deep within the mountain burrows, and have sent word to my village leaders to make preparations.
I’m having Líri escorted to our southernmost outpost (west of Bothaim) by a trio of our most competent blue beads. Should you want to meet her there, you won’t find the village on the map, but Utris knows its location.
Raeve, your safest bet is to be underground when the moons fall—at least until things settle, which could take a while. Mah’s mountainretreat has a deep bunker beneath and is packed with provisions. The entrance can be found under the big rug in the living space.
Don’t be stubborn. Please use it.
Others will soon foresee the moonfalls. Once word gets out, folk will panic. Things will get messy. Tell nobody, and please be careful.
I’m here in B
Pinch the return fold if you need me.
Yours.
For a moment, all I can do is stare, breath caught, blood ice cold as I reread the same line over and over …
Many will fall, and all at once.
Creators.
“Everything okay?”
My gaze snaps up, hand clamping shut like a shellfish, hiding the lark’s jarring message.
