Page 159 of Crown of the Courtesan

A darkness crumbles my heart, slowly, bit by bit.

“Damn it, Cliodna, you and I grew up with each other.” His voice rises in raw emotion. “Of course, I love you, but I didn’t know love could be different—” Out of the corner of my eye, I see my brother pick up my tiara. The massive jewel glitters defiantly against the rageful sun.

But I’m unable to say anything through the choking sobs beating out of my chest. I retreat until my legs hit the deck’s railing.

The ocean welcoming, never forsaking me.

Tam peers up and yells, “Cliodna!”

My heart is blackened and dead, and in its place, an empty hull remains. Streaks of color flash by as people try to reach me.

Trapped in her mind, I desperately try to pull away from the edge, but I’m powerless.

Cliodna’s body tips, and it’s too late.

I fall.

Waves devour me until I sink below the fading light.

Sixty-Six

I float in rippling black water, shadows caressing my limbs, sending familiar sensations of awareness.

Though my eyes are open, only an endless void meets my gaze. No light or shapes exist in this empty dimension. I blink rapidly, desperate for any sign of life.

Time becomes meaningless, and my thoughts panic until I hear a gravelly sound that bounces off the walls of my mind. All I can do is breathe and listen: “Sybella Nicnevin, the Witch-Queen herself, finally surrenders to the Oracle of Devana.”

Sybella?

I try to use my voice, but my lungs fill with an oily liquid, and the Oracle clicks its tongue.

“Do not speak unless you wish to die.” Its words echo as I levitate helplessly in the void. “I have been waiting for you—the one prophesied. Too long have you ignored my shadows watching you. Too long have you ignored my call.” A force grazes my cheek before wrapping around my neck, squeezing tight. I fight not to let panic consume me as my airway constricts. The creature releases me and says, “Your power is great, but mine is greater; do not thwart the future that will be, young seer.”

My mind is in denial as the current whips around me in warning.

Young seer?

“Oh, yes, yes, yes… Do you not wonder at the peculiar whispers that nip at your heels? The powers you channel?”

Bubbles gurgle from my mouth, but I clamp my lips closed.

“You’re a portal—a vessel—my dear. A legend of past and present coming together, bursting through your veins, threatening to be unleashed so their story may be told. Your mind holds tight, only letting in trickles of the visions begging to be seen, and as such, the spirits sing into your blood, allowing you to borrow their mighty powers to use against your enemies. Whether you like it or not, you shall see the entirety of it all, and yet you will ruin the culmination of everything that has been.”

I want to yell, scream, shout, but I’m terrified.

“Sweet child, why do you cry for what you’ve just done?”

The image of Ash’s face moves through my mind; I’m bombarded with memories of our complicated relationship—I sob in the dungeon—we kiss on the boat—an ivory ship sails across the bay at sunrise.

The Oracle cackles, revealing he can read my mind in this place.

Stop!

“Be proud of your choice. It is not your death that will break the blood debt, but his. He is the terror that follows you. He is the nightmare to come if you are weak enough to succumb. My dear girl, why do you feel this shame? You’ve chosen to rise to greatness rather than fall to ruin. You’ve prevented your own demise.”

What do you mean?

“Would it help to show you what’s to come? Drink up, drink my gift to you, and see.”