Page 165 of Of Masks and Fury

He went straight to a cabinet where I’d found papers before, not understanding how significant they might be, and opened the door. He searched the cabinet briefly before pulling out a leather-bound journal similar to Velacross’s but larger.

“Everything my father wrote in the months before he died,” he said, moving aside some maps to set it on the desk.

I stood beside him as he opened the journal. The first page held a date from sixteen years ago, the handwriting neat and controlled.

Initial reports of creatures emerging from a rift in the veil. Witnesses describe beings that feed on magic itself, draining power from the land and leaving devastation in their wake.

Trew flipped to the next page. More notes, more observations. Sketches of Skathes in various forms, their anatomy detailed with the precision of someone who’d studied them extensively.

Halfway through the journal, we came across the symbol, the same circular design with intersecting lines, drawn larger here and annotated with notes in the margins.

Connection to ancient magic. Bloodfire traces. Warning of corruption.

I sucked in a breath. “Bloodfire. That’s what Coralee said the woman used.”

“My father was tracking it.” Trew’s finger traced the symbol. “He knew someone was using forbidden magic.”

I leaned closer, reading the cramped text below the drawing.Warning. Danger. Connection to?—

The sentence cut off, unfinished.

Trew turned the page. The next entry was also dated sixteen years ago, shortly before his father’s death.

Growing certainty that at least one Skathe controller exists. They’re directing the wretched creatures. I’ve traced their power signature to?—

Again, unfinished. But this time, there was something else. A second symbol, smaller than the first, drawn in the corner of the page.

A crescent moon with embedded blue jewels.

“Trew.” My voice came out strangled. “That looks like my mother’s pendant. My father gave it to Addie when she turned seventeen.”

He went very still. “You’re right.”

I tugged it from beneath my tunic, turning it until the light streaming in from the window hit it. “A crescent moon with jewels.” I pointed to the drawing. “Exactly like this.”

We stared at the page.

My mother’s pendant. In his father’s handwriting. Sixteen years ago.

Two people who had both died within weeks of each other, in different kingdoms, under circumstances nobody had fully explained. Two people who had apparently known something the wrong person didn’t want known.

The pendant felt heavier around my neck.

“Did they know each other?” I whispered. “They may have been working together.” It was a stretch but something we had to consider.

I wouldn’t believe my mother had been using bloodfire magic. She wasn’t capable of doing harm. I’d swear that on my life.

“If they were, they may have both been killed to keep from revealing whatever they knew.”

A knock at the door made us both tense. Trew’s hand moved to the blade strapped to his side.

“Come,” he called out.

Coralee entered, her ermine draped across her shoulders like always. She carried a leather portfolio, the kind scholars used for precious documents. Her expression was carefully neutral, but I caught the tightness around her eyes.

“The bloodfire research you requested,” she said, setting the portfolio on Trew’s desk. “I’ve kept it locked away all these years. Looking at it again…” She released a slight shudder, her fingers twitching as they touched the leather. “I believe this contains the most complete information about bloodfire in our realm.”

“Thank you,” Trew said softly.