Page 176 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

“Visha, I’m starting to think you have something against my wife by aiding her get in the most dangerous situations.”

“Don’t underestimate her. Her capabilities are beyond any of our understanding.”

“Is that why you left your mother? To help Snow find and push these capabilities of hers?”

Oryn lifted his head up from his small workstation and then ducked it back down not a moment later. He knew something. But I wasn’t sure if we were meant to know. I’d learnt in my years studying the Celesteel blessed to never question their silence and never poke it—it was a beast better not roused.

Visha went to the cabinets, placing the white smoke flask beside a few others. “You know very well why I left Eldmoor.”

I did. To outrun her fate. The fate that was sealed and pursued her since the beginning of her ancestors. The fate of the 103rd Grand Maiden, the one promised to the 7th Prince of hells, Son of Celesteel and Plantae. The bargain that the 3rd Grand Maiden had struck with hells so she could bring her own daughter back. Among seven sacrifices she’d given to each gate of hell, this had been the last one. A bride.

Still, it didn’t justify why it was Snow who she had picked to hide behind. Any king or queen would have taken her as their Crafter in a breath. “Funny how you ended up right on Snow’s side. Funny how you crossed a whole deadly mist to be beside Snow where you could have gone anywhere.”

“There was no craft involved in my crossing, the zgahna let me.”

“Why would the zgahna let you through?”

“It called to me on one of my visions. The same vision I saw a white flaming woman with grand gold-streaked wings and Snow facing it. It asked me to guide the Elding Queen to her destiny.”

I stopped fiddling with the sleeve buttons and looked up at her. “A vague reason for such a strong Crafter like yourself. You know your visions are implausible and most of the time a game of your own magic. A test.”

She shook her head lightly. “Not to the future Grand Maiden. My visions have never failed me. I saw you get injured in Hanai, I also saw your trip to Oryn Duncan, the man my uncle modelled the seals after. I do not tell what I foresee for I am cursed to change the course of fate if I do. Tampering with fate means tampering with gods and what they have planned. Though many brace for the consequences, I have to admit, I am not brave enough.”

“That I can attest to,” Oryn mumbled.

“Visha, are you saying the guardian will be woken?”

“No, for that I am not sure, that part of the future must still be in the writing. I only know that Snow will have to face her one way or another.” She reached onto a shelf and pulled a tray of colourful stones. “The trace spell for the Skygard siblings is finished.” Picking a ruby one out of the bunch, she handed it to me. “Hand this to Nia since she is heading to Eldmoor this afternoon, I will have another one ready when you return to use in Adriata.”

Solarya had a strange cast of clouds dulling the usual brightness of the sky. Mal and I had asked to join Magnus and Cora for a private meeting this afternoon after Visha had studied the nature of the material we’d collected on the Abendrot tomb. The sun rulers had become tight allies and helpful ones, too. They deserved to be kept up to date with everything.

“What is the cause of this bliss of yours? It’s giving me allergies,” Mal said, flinging a hand in the air as if to push my shadows aside.

“What is the cause of any of my bliss?”

“I’d like to say that it is I, your most loving brother, but then there is a certain dark head that comes to mind.”

My mouth pulled to a smile. “There is.”

“Don’t be creepy.”

“How am I creepy?”

“Smiling to yourself and all.”

“I thought you said I look happy.”

“Now you’re just being creepy.”

Small footsteps interrupted our conversation and we turned to the sound. A petite blond woman came to view, with eyes of yellow brown and a pale skin tinted red by the sun. She didn’t wear the attire of Solarya but rather one I’d grown accustomed to seeing in Isjord. Bright colours, tight laces and puffy skirts.

“Heard Magnus had made foreign friendships,” she said boredly. There was curiosity in her shadows different from the blankness in her features. “To think that it was the Night King was never anyone's guess. How is my niece?”

Eleonor Krigborn. The youngest Krigborn royal. “I’m not sure. You would know better. Your brother knows the way in my lands rather well.”

She raised a hand to cover her laugh. “No hard feelings, I suppose. And in all fairness you were done a favour. She would have drained the soul out of you.”

“I like to think of it as that, too,” I easily lied.