Page 80 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

Emmeline

“It’s like you never left your office at the Academy,” Myrella joked when Emmeline shoved aside the gowns in her closet to expose the tattered and creased notes she’d pinned to the wall behind them.

“I certainly have left, though.”

She smoothed down the curled edges of a piece of paper baring the twelve-pointed star that had been tattooed on each victim, theories of why scribbled in the margins. Was it to create Fate ties or another connection to the Fate of Cruelty and Adoration, Anphrosia? That was Emmeline’s current strongest suspicion, and based on Roremar’s hypothesis that Dryvius had revealed to the Fates that he was alive in the Fate Realm, she wondered if the ritual was complete.

Based on what Anphrosia said to her yesterday while in the underground tunnels, Dryvius could still be planning to use Roremar again.

“I guess you’re right.” Myrella crouched beside Emmeline, leaning closer to the notes on the Warders of Selene. “So, Selene isn’t a person but a triad?”

“That’s what we found. Selene represents the Goddess of Fate and Celestial Movements, the Angel Valyrie, and a third unnamed being. My theory is that the Warders are the Fates themselves.” She pointed to where she’d listed out the evidence supporting that. “Warding what exactly, I don’t know, but a historical document reported renditions of the insignia that reflected multiple Fates.”

“An unnamed being,” Myrella repeated. “That’s odd. I’m no history specialist, but I don’t recall ever hearing about Selene or a significant nameless figure when I was in school.”

“Neither do I. And other than the one record, there’s been nothing else. Almost like she’s been wiped from all archives.”

Myrella tilted her head, dark hair slipping over her shoulder. “Why, though?”

“Why indeed,” Emmeline said as she stacked a few books and journals in her satchel, carefully moving aside vials and glass jars.

“What’s this?” Myrella asked. Emmeline’s attention lifted to where she pointed to a nearly blank sheet of parchment pinned beside the Warders.

“That’s another cult Regina found,” Emmeline said of the colleague at the Academy who’d helped her with all this research. “Realmspinners.”

“Realmspinners?” Myrella blinked at the scant page as if she was trying to remember something. “There isn’t much here. Just that they’ve been gone for generations but originally lived on the Constellation Isles.”

“Regina couldn’t find anything else. Even less than the Warders.”

“You think it’s important, though.”

Emmeline shrugged. “I think anything could be important, but something wiped from historical records? Seems interesting.”

Myrella studied the word, her brow creasing. In the silence, Emmeline’s gut twisted. She’d wanted to speak with Myrella more last night, but by the time they left the barracks it was late, and truthfully, she’d still been looking for the right words. She’d briefly apologized for leaving Lyra so quickly, but she had to communicate the weight of Myrella’s presence in Valyn when she felt so alone.

“I’m happy you’re here,” Emmeline began, twisting her rings.

Myrella gave her a soft smile. “There’s nowhere else I’d want to be. Falliare found a temporary replacement for me, so it was an easy decision.”

That statement settled in Emmeline’s chest. She chewed her lip. “Did you not want to go home after everything?”

Not that Emmeline had a home to go to, but she imagined that sort of comfort was what one would long for after a loss.

Myrella sighed, sitting back and tucking her knees to her chest. “There was nowhere to go.”

“What do you mean?” Emmeline asked.

“I grew up in an orphanage on Gemmi.”

“I didn’t know…”

“You couldn’t have. I’d been on Lyra since my Fatorum Revelus, and it never really came up at the Academy, but I never knew my family. The priestesses at the orphanage couldn’t tell me anything about them other than my mother dropped me off in the night around my…sixth birthday, I believe. I don’t remember anything before that. I think I blocked it all out.”

The type of events that the memory could repress to protect itself flashed through Emmeline’s mind.

“I’m sorry, Myrella.” It wasn’t enough, but there was no other way to respond. Like her, Myrella never had a true home until Nico made her feel safe. And then she lost him.

“It’s okay.” Myrella flashed a dimpled smile, but the circles beneath her eyes were dark. “But that’s why I jumped to come here when Desmond told me what he was doing. I couldn’t stay on Lyra. It’s not home when I’m alone.”