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Elisabet moved to stand nearer to Nivek’s soul. “But we could not agree on the rest of the seer’s words. Other than that they seemed to hint that a new melder would be the cause of the destruction. Most of us believed that it meant uniting all three crafts, for only a melder can bind the bones. But to do so would mean she would become like a reborn Wanderer King with every vein of craft united within her.”

In the tales, the Wanderer poisoned his own young ones, his greed so corrupted he forced his wife’s hand to give him the power to meld soul bones, all to save them. For he desired power from the dead; he desired to become indestructible.

“Lyra.” Elisabet drew my attention back. “The seer spoke of a daughter, so when a rumor spread of a girl with silver scars in her eyes, born after every other heir, we believed this new melder had the strength of the god-queen. We believed she had the power to unite all the crafts somehow through our heirs. But also the power to destroy our world. Some believed it was the gods’ vengeance, at last, falling upon these lands for the curse of the first king. Many voices throughout the kingdoms wanted to stop it from happening.”

Dammit. They believed I, a child, had the power to destroy thrones, realms, the very world in which we lived.

“The clans set out to find her, each for their own purposes.” Elisabet studied me with intent. “Jorvans sought the girl for selfish reasons. Myrdans, to study the power. And Dravens, to stop whatever battles might be coming.”

“Is that how the raids began?”

“No. This was seasons before the raids; you would have been hardly a season old.” Elisabet’s eyes flashed. “Vishon and I went against the truce, severing alliances. But, like the others, we still hunted the young melder. We planned to shadow her craft, to make the lands forget there ever was a god-queen daughter.”

The gleam of Nivek’s soul brightened.

A soul shadower. Roark told me his brother had the power to shadow the soul—hiding memories, truths, perhaps even craft.

My pulse raced. Shadows tightened around my limbs; Skul Drek held me steady, a strength in the darkness.

“You wanted to take me, to hide my craft?”

“My king had no intention to kill an innocent child,” Elisabet insisted.

The long fingers of Skul Drek gripped the back of my neck. “They came to darken her soul, and princely brothers were darkened all the same.”

Nivek chuckled. “What strange ways wickedness speaks.”

My husband hissed back.

“But what of the final warning?” I asked. “To leave the crafts divided seems to insinuate that these lands will end. Either way, it seems we are destined for destruction.”

Elisabet nodded. “We believed if we found you as an infant and never allowed your craft to take hold, the rest of the prophecy couldn’t come to pass.”

Something inside me twisted—a nudge, a fear. There was more to the seer’s tale, like an unspoken warning whispered in my ear. I simply didn’t know what it could be. “When I was a babe, no one found me.”

“Some did. With wretched blood casts and hunters in Myrda and Jorvandal, the Jorvan king found you,” Elisabet said. “Damir and Fadey tried to gather you but failed. Your folk were wise and ran with you, hiding you away from it all. With you lost to us, and with the Jorvans’ depravity and desperation for melding craft, that was when my king made his sacrifice to protect the souls of the fallen.”

The king rent his soul in two. He became Skul Drek.

I closed my eyes. “Then the raids came seasons later. Right?”

“Yes.” The queen nodded. “When word rose again that the girl had been spotted, it became a battle to reach you first.”

“And since the Jorvans used melding craft to corrupt…” I could not find the words to finish.

Elisabet did not speak right away. “The úlfur made the decision that it was better to destroy the risk. Fadey had become known for his brutality. The Jorvans would have made you the same.”

What was there to say? Damir did try to make me a monster, bound to do his desires by corrupting and twisting souls in the bones of the living and the dead.

But to know so many lives were lost, all in an attempt to erase mine, stacked heavy on my spine.

“Now we face the same trouble,” I said, my voice low. “This is why Fadey believes my bones will give him the power. It’s not because I fall into a stronger melder’s trance. It’s because I’m a woman and a seer said I was the one who could unite the craft of the Wanderer King. It’s madness.”

Skul Drek clicked his long fingernails. “A dark melder will not touch my melder’s soul.”

“I have no plans to die.” I spun toward Nivek. “We must go to this bone you were given as the heir. You were given one, right?”

“I know of the Wanderer’s bone that connects to soul craft, yes.” Nivek’s grin teetered on something wickedly playful.