Page 38 of Anomalies

“I won’t,” I promise, and Kimber lets out a heavy breath. “I don’t even want it, but why would my Velkan give it to me?”

It’s Kimber who replies before her grandfather can, “Because he wants you to use it.”

The silence that falls after her words is much too quiet for my liking. “But if my Velkan is sworn to protect me, then why on Pyra’s dark planet would he want me risking my life in the Twilight Passage?”

“Perhaps he believes that whatever he’s trying to tell you is worth the risk,” Kimber says.

“Be careful, child,” Pa says warily. “Your Velkan plays by his own rules, and he has no problem defying the will of Fate.”

Fucking fantastic.

The lights flicker back on, the amber orbs in Pa’s quaint hovel illuminating the cluttered space. Kimber gets to her feet, shaking out her hands as if they’ve been clenched this whole time. “We’ll hide the Eldral someplace safe,” she tells her grandfather. “And Lucina promises not to use it…ever.” Kimber punctuates her words with a piercing stare in my direction. “Right?”

I nod. “I promise.”

“Good.” Pa stands, then he reaches back for his wooden cane. “Pay attention to the dreams he’s weaving for you, child. If you can figure out what he’s trying to tell you, he’ll leave you be.”

A heaviness settles behind me as I make my way to the door. “Wait.” I turn back to face Pa, and his brows rise in question. “You said there are consequences for possessing an Eldral. What are they?”

“It is a crime, Lucina, of the highest degree—to have access to the Twilight Passage.” The Solian Nyrith settles himself over his cane and says simply, “Death or exile. The Dame would likely have you killed.”

Kimber stayed with Pa, and I managed to avoid most of Pax’s questions on the way back through camp, explaining everything except the Eldral.

It’s just sitting on my nightstand.

If someone were to find it, it would be entirely my Velkan’s fault. I’d be sentenced to death, and he’d die with me. How dire could this message be? He’s risking my existence and his own.

Pax and I crest the hill into the heart of camp, the limbs of the Banyan lit up by the small orbs that flutter through it. “So, the tree passes judgment?” I ask. “Every time you go through it?”

“Yeah, it makes sure you have no ill intent. Wouldn’t want anyone getting in that⁠—”

There’s a ripple and a crack, then the roots of the Banyan groan, and those passing along the dirt paths around us shout as the portal opens and the Captain barrels through the opening like a freight train—his coven hurtling through after him.

“Holy gods,” a woman beside us mutters, and Pax goes utterly still.

Draped over Callan’s arms—limp and frail—is a woman. She’s nothing but skin and bones with streaks of white through her black hair.

“Oh, gods,” Pax breathes, “oh gods, he did it.”

Callan hardly misses a step, shouting at all the stunned people who watch him, ordering them out of his way as he takes off in the direction of the infirmary.

“Did what?” I ask, but Pax takes off after the Captain, and I’m forced into a quick pace to keep up. “Pax, who is that woman?”

“Iris Vaughn,” he shouts over his shoulder, the entire camp having erupted into chaos. “Daughter of Elliot and Lila Vaughn. Her parents made it to Pirn, but Iris was taken by Rogues. Hundreds of our people were taken by Rogues. And Callan, he⁠—"

A man and a woman sprint past us, streaks of white through her black hair.

“He found them.”

11

CALLAN

We found them.

Well, we found her.

Iris Vaughn was added to the list of deceased shortly after her parents arrived in Pirn twenty years ago. Elliot and Lila Vaughn are Floras, lower-ranked herbologists—their specialty is growing flowers. If you need a bouquet or floral arrangements for a ceremony, you go to them. But no matter what you ask for, there is always a tiny splotch of purple petals tucked within the bunch.