Page 117 of Hunger & Harmony

“I believe that,” Selene hums before she looks at me earnestly. “But I also believe in you, Cadence. Do what you need to do. We will hold steady.”

“Thank you,” I say back, looking at all of them, even Ryel briefly. “We’ll get through this.”

“This isn’t the end,” Niko repeats his words from earlier, and I feel closer to believing it.

Ezren clings to my side, and I hug him back gently. Guilt gnaws at me, even if I know it’s not my fault. So much heartache. It’s not fair that the only answer is falling back.

“I’ll leave at dawn.”

That’s only a couple of hours to figure out where I’m going. Only a short time to say goodbye.

I pack slowly, thankful that Arteria lingers. Even Ryel lights a cigarette and cracks open a window, and in the eye of this storm, I can almost pretend this is a normal Friday night. Ezren on his phone, Selene fixing her hair next to him, and Niko hovering beside me, like his hands' sole purpose is to hold me.

I’m weighing up whether to contact Viola when there’s another knock at my door. Selene opens it, and I watch her posture relax.

“Cass.”

The royal informant in black-rimmed glasses and a hoodie. He shuffles in, looking at me once the door closes.

“May I have a word?”

It’s soon just me and him in my bedroom, the door cracked. He sits at my desk. I remain on my bed.

“What is it?” I ask, and he offers his hand.

Aged cream parchment curls between his fingers. When I take the crumpled paper from him, I realize it’s also been ripped, like this small piece was once a part of something bigger.

“I want you to read it.”

Glancing it over, I find a few sentences scrawled in messy handwriting. No, not sentences. Verses.

“No blood will bind, no voice will reign,” I whisper.

Chills cascade down my spine, every hair on my body standing tall.

“She’ll laugh and dance where once was pain,” Cass continues for me. “Her pulse that calls the last-born heir. The hollow throne and subjects stare . . .”

That’s all there is. It doesn’t feel complete, more like a bridge between parts. Echoes of that lullaby come to mind. Are these the lines that follow?

I glance over at Cass. He takes the paper back.

“It took great lengths to find this, so I’ll keep it safe,” he says. “There are certainly missing parts, but this confirms it.”

“The prophecy, as the Court knows it, is false,” I murmur, and he nods.

“I know little beyond that. I’m still looking, and I’ll do everything within my power.” He hangs his head. “I should’ve told you before, but . . .I didn’t have these few verses of proof until this morning.”

While I want to be angry, he’s not to blame. If I think back to our first night on the road, I remember how strange I found him. It all makes sense now.

“No, I . . . appreciate it. You confirmed there’s another version. That’s a solid start.”

He hums. Behind my blinds, the first rays of daylight seep through.

“You’re making the right choice,” he says when he stands.

“I hope so.”

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Neither does mine.