Page 175 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

“In what way was Dryvius free from Roremar?”

“That is what we are all asking,” Serchus said, nodding gravely. “We thought him dead just as you did. We have all clearly been proven wrong, and we are still waiting for him to reveal himself to us.”

Emmeline’s skin prickled, as if Dryvius would leap from the branches of Serchus’s tree right now.

“So, it freed him from the ruse of his death? Freed him to return to the Fate Realm and track you down if he wished?” Emmeline asked, still feeling like she didn’t have all the pieces.

“That is a good way to put it.” Serchus shrugged, entirely dismissive about the Fate of Chaos and Revelry being alive and killing his own Fate tied. “This all deals with more prophecies than you can comprehend. We shall see how it plays out.”

Fear chilled Emmeline’s skin.

“You don’t seem afraid,” she observed.

“Do not be afraid of fate, Reignarria. If there is one certainty in these realms, it is that what’s meant to pass shall pass, and we will all deal with it when it does.” It was the most serious she’d ever heard Serchus, his expression beneath his mask pleasant but expectant.

Emmeline exhaled in disbelieving amusement. “That actually sounds like a peaceful way to live.”

He gazed at their surroundings. “Live as long as I have, and it will prove to be the one that leads to greatest inner serenity.”

Emmeline followed his stare to the dusty landscape, those rolling hills of starlike flowers in the distance. “Where are we exactly?”

“You will one day see. For now, I leave you with a piece of advice: Pay attention to the magic steeped in your surroundings. You have seen the graves hidden with maps of secrets past and found the Point of Constellation in which you speak to me tonight, but keep digging. There is much more to unveil.”

“What is a Point of Constellation?” she asked.

“It is a place of heightened magic in the earth. There are many to be found, where stardust has been woven and Fates are strongest.”

Where stardust has been woven.

You’re woven with stardust, her mother used to say. Her eyes stung at the reminder.

“You didn’t ask for a secret that time.”

“I need not make a trade for that piece of information.” Serchus shrugged again, so unaffected. “Pay attention. Now, it is time to go. He is worried.”

“What?” Emmeline asked, but then she heard it, her name wrenching apart the skies.

Emmeline!

Her body was rocked.

Emmeline, wake up!

She opened her eyes to a steely, crazed gaze.

“Thank the stars,” Roremar sighed, clutching her closer. He kissed the top of her head, his chest rising and falling rapidly against her as she tried to focus.

Water rushed at the mouth of the cave, but there weren’t any flowers on the walls nor could she smell them.

“Where are we?” she slurred, shivering from her damp underclothes and hair.

“The back of that cave formed a tunnel to another. We’re behind the eleventh waterfall.” Panic streaked Roremar’s voice as he rubbed warmth into her arms, and she lifted her gaze back to his. “Normally when you’re reading you can still engage with me. This was…different.”

“It was,” she agreed, cupping his cheek. “I’m okay, though. Internally, it felt the same as any session.”

Roremar’s hands fisted against her, his distaste of the Fates evident in that grip. But he asked, “What did you see?”

“It was Serchus.” He stiffened at the mention of Nico’s Fate tie. Slowly, careful of ripping open any wound, Emmeline explained to him what Serchus said. Finishing with, “I don’t exactly know what he means by Dryvius was freed.”