Page 27 of Three Dark Kings and the Gilded Serpent

It must be the twin of the one in my hair. Stellen told me how his mother made one for both him and his little sister. He wore his in his warrior braid while Safra wrapped hers around her arm.

The wind picks up around me, casting snowflakes into the air, the edge of the second ribbon thrashing in it.

I’m struck still by the knowledge that I saw this moment in a blade vision.

I was standing in this field and my feet were bare, as they are now. This stone rested in the snow in front of me. A yellow ribbon fluttered on top of it, trying to lift into the wind.

When Stellen first brought me to this field, I remembered that vision, but I knew it wasn’t happening then because there was no yellow ribbon.

Now there is.

It’s just…

Upside down…?

In the vision, the yellow ribbon fluttered at the top of the gravestone.

I tilt my head slowly, dread rising within me because as my perspective changes… As I picture this stone turned the other way up…

I recognize it.

Oh, Stellen.

When we were in the Alak-Teah, I told him what I discovered about ending the False Queen’s curse. I must break the Dragonstone Blade in the same way it was forged: unmade as it was made. To do that, I need to bring together all the pieces: the hammer, the coal, a Blood Fae, since I discovered that a Blood Fae forged the blade, and lastly, I need the dragonstone anvil from which the blade took its name.

This anvil.

I saw its shape in a book called the Chronicle.

And now, here the anvil is, hiding in plain sight.

With this realization comes perilous clarity.

Stellen chose his final words to me far more carefully than I could have dreamed.

He told me to tip the gravestone over, and by trying to do so, I’ve recognized what it really is.

He also gave me a dire warning with his final truth.

He told me he’d chosen heartlessness, not to be cruel, but because his rage had become dangerous. He said he’d had to put his anger somewhere where it wouldn’t hurt another innocent fae.

I don’t know how exactly he pulled the fury from his heart, but the ribbon whose edge I can see must be the vessel into which he poured his feelings.

What will happen if I release this ribbon?

Oh, but what will happen if I don’t?

My shoulders slump, fresh tears filling my eyes, as I consider Stellen’s unmoving form.

He is one of the three kings. He’s part of my fate. He chose to bring me here, to give me the gift of the anvil instead of seeking help for himself—Damn him!

But he also made sure I wouldn’t lift the rock until he died.

Maybe he hoped the rage in the ribbon would die with him so I could remove the anvil safely from this spot.

Maybe he believed that his final peace would bring harmony to his rejected heart.

The bite of power I experienced moments ago tells me that won’t be the case.