Page 96 of The Reaping Rose

“I think Aurora wants me out of the picture.”

Perame frowns. “It’s not personal with Aurora. It’s just difficult for her to warm up to people. Her life before the court was not a pleasant one. Her resentment has nothing to do with you.”

Perame doesn’t elaborate, and I’m curious what Aurora might have gone through before Queen Delayna took her in that made her the female she became.

Callum holds up a hand, cutting off our conversation and stopping us. He glances around, listening for a moment before urging us forward again.

I look at Perame, who has been spinning her daggers between her fingers all morning like a nervous twitch. “Are you worried about Atlas?”

She shrugs. “My brother can take care of himself.”

“Still…”

“I’ll always worry. He and my father are all I have. All I’ve ever had. My mother died birthing us, so I never met her.”

Losing a parent is a unique kind of pain. Especially losing one before you have the chance to get to know them. It’s an emptiness that can’t be matched, and one I understood before I learned the truth about my mother.

“I was raised by only my father as well. We were close.” Emotion clogs in my throat as Perame glances at me.

“I heard you lost him the same day you found Wilder. I can’t imagine.” She reaches for my hand, squeezing, and I believe she truly means it.

“There’s a graveyard up ahead,” Callum says, his back straightening.

Perame drops my hand, spotting the grieving pillars through the trees. “This is it. I recognize that pillar from my vision, even though… everything is getting blurry.”

Her eyebrows furrow like she’s trying to recall what she saw, but it’s getting farther away the longer she stares at it.

“It must be the void,” I say. “If it mutes all magic, then it could be affecting us the closer we get.”

“So much for having that on our side should things go south,” Callum grumbles.

There was always a possibility that the void would strip us of our magic, but I’d hoped we’d find a way to contain it before that was the case.

“At least there’s some magic in the realm.” I stretch my fingers, feeling the stir. “Idunn made it sound like a realm couldn’t survive the touch of the void, but the Mortal Realm has. Maybe the void is already contained in something that will allow us to bring it back and use it.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.” Perame steps forward, leading the way.

With no one around, she pulls off her hood, revealing her ears to listen closer. We follow silently, trying not to break her focus.

Glancing up, another raven watches us, and a chill skitters down my spine.

“That crypt is the one from my vision.” Perame freezes at the stone structure towering ahead.

Shadows draw a dark path along the ground before us.

The closer we get, the heavier the throb of the void becomes. Only, instead of pushing us away as it once did, now it tugs. It latches somewhere deep in my belly, snagging like a siren’s song and urging me toward it.

Glancing up at Callum, whose eyebrows pinch in worry, I sense he feels the same.

Perame leads the way as we weave through the graves. Most of the names on the stones are dull from weather and time. Only a few are fresh.

I tread carefully, my stomach lurching with the thought of the bodies buried beneath my feet. It’s so unlike the rituals we adopted from the Fae on the island. Here, their souls are trapped, never to be set free.

I pause at one grieving pillar, reading the name of the deceased.

Laef Tanner

It’s not my father’s name exactly, but it’s close enough to make me queasy. Bile meets my throat, but I swallow it down when Callum nudges me forward. I don’t take my eyes off the stone until we pass.