Page 151 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

“It’s a map,” Emmeline whispered.

“What do you mean?”

The stars moved faster, and Myrella jolted, stepping closer.

Emmeline felt it then. A soft vibration in the air, a wave of ether stringing her magic to Myrella’s. She could practically see a ripple rolling off her, a tangible piece of magic to latch on to. It was powerful in a different way than Desmond’s had been, one that Emmeline couldn’t quite place.

When she stepped closer to it, the stars sped, slotting into place in the celestial map above. Emmeline tried to keep track of each constellation as it landed.

“It’s not a map of a city,” Myrella guessed.

“No, it’s not.” Anphrosia’s Mirror was connected to Arenothos’s Helm, Aevollon’s Sunserpent, and Dryvius’s Panther, all by thin silver threads. “It’s a star map.”

A unique one, possibly forged for this moment exactly.

“It’s all connected, right?” Emmeline explained as more constellations formed above. “That’s what Roremar and I discovered on Lyra. Everything to do with the murders, with the disappearances and the Fates—it was all connected. I bet everything in this city is, too.”

The words she’d heard on repeat since arriving in Valyn played through her memory.

A fortune spun by Fated hands,

A choice taken from forsaken bands.

Two hearts staked through with malice.

Star’s Reign and Star’s Ruin.

This was Emmeline’s map, her fortune spun. Like she’d built on the wall of her dressing chamber, but from another angle. Everything the Fates had told her so far and everything she was building before them now.

“Anphrosia connects to Arenothos, Aevollon, and Dryvius,” Myrella said, following Emmeline’s theory.

Two more symbols assembled. One, a snake swallowing its own tail shaped from tiny, pinprick stars, the base of a sigil they both knew so well. The second was a single shooting star, looping around itself.

“Fate Bound Seekers. The Lyra sigil. Falliare and Rocarri.” Emmeline’s pulse pounded as a line of stars stretched between the two. “They’re connected.”

The circular shooting star reflected in Myrella’s eyes as her attention shifted to Emmeline. “You said the Fate Bound Seekers had notes on star maps?”

Emmeline swallowed. “Extensive research on when constellations aligned historically, and the legends tied to each. Sacred bonds.”

For Him to fall, and Her to bleed.

Remedy a past scorned daring, and cross with bloodied footsteps faring.

Bonds do forge,

Intended yet scorned.

Forced not wanted,

Sacrifices born haunted.

It always came back to the bonding—to the hand Rocarri wanted to force.

To the tether she was currently burying deep.

“Or…” Emmeline’s heart stilled as she traced the line between the symbols representing Falliare and Rocarri. “What if it’s rituals, not bonds? Whatever Falliare is doing and the Fate Bound Seekers. They’re working together.”

Emmeline had suspected both Rocarri and Falliare of working with Dryvius independently—the Temple Master through the murders and the Chancellor through the tournament. Maybe she’d been right, but the collusion ran even deeper.