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Mag cleared his throat. “Witchling?”
“Hmm?” She didn’t bother looking up from her reading or pacing.
“Why was a note from Amun in the book?”
Brand’s stomach turned over along with hers as she froze.
“What did you just say?”
Mag held it up. “This is Amun’s handwriting.”
Luna swayed. “It…was in there when Fern and I came the first time, already waiting for me. And this”—she produced another from the ether—“was in the box with my Occurrence dress, along with the two Brand left me.”
Brand took it from her, Amun’s impeccable scroll staring back at him. “‘The world went dark and swam beneath you, but you forgot to remember.’ Why would he write this to you?”
“I don’t know why or how. Endellion said that to me, but I never repeated it to another soul.”
“‘This is all you will need, Lunara. Learn it well and use it wisely.’” Magnus snorted. “You want to know how? If that one came from your radge Oracle, and this one led you to saving Brand…” He shrugged and set the note back down. “Might be safe to say the uncanny bastard has his own voices, aye?”
“You think he hears her, too?” Luna breathed. “Why wouldn’t he have said?”
“Don’t know, and I don’t much care. He’s always been a bit aloof. I’m simply pleased to not feel like a wee fucking idiot anymore while he just seems to know shite.”
Brand blew out a slow breath, trying to calm the racing of his—her—heart. “He wouldn’t have done it for wicked reasons, little moon.”
“Um. Right. Yes.” Luna shook herself. “A…problem for another day.”
As if they needed any more.
“So.” Brand pulled the book from her hands, steeling himself. “Our solution is in these pages.”
Her look speared right through him, mist in her sea glass eyes. “I really fucking hope so.”
A perfect rendering of Illamiata was practically screaming at Lunara from the page.
She swore it was moving, rotating on a perfect axis above five, clawing shards that looked like they were reaching up from the ground—so similar to the ones at the very top of the Elder Halls, where the Tear Stone took its rest between Keepers.
Except, held within this splintered, earthen hand was a mass of writhing shadow.
It was the solution, obviously, but the how eluded her. She’d scoured every page thrice-over, the hours unending. Shite, for all she knew, they’d been down here for days already. Weeks, even, while she tried to decipher the chaotic images and random nonsense.
Would’ve been easier if you weren’t the only one who could read it.
Indeed. Were that not the case, she might’ve been able to get some rest. Instead, she was forced to listen to an endless chorus of snores and sleepy ramblings, the others mocking her with their oblivion.
Probably means it’s only been a few hours, though. A night, at most, since they’ve yet to wake up after supper.
True. Which…did make it somewhat more tolerable.
“Is that meant to be a blade?”
“Hmm?” Lunara blinked and followed Brand’s fingers to the previous page, where he was tracing what looked to be a sunstar with four snaking bursts, a dark outline within the light.
“This. It reminds me of my dagger. The one I gave you.” His mouth quirked up on one side, exhaustion painted in purple smudges beneath his eyes.
Her pulse quickened, adoration blooming from the center of her chest. Brand, of course, stayed by her side all the while, offering support and encouragement. Cups of tea. A smile when she was seconds from bursting into hopeless tears.
It’s fine. You’re fine. It will all be fine.
