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“I know.” They were no longer warm brown. They were the rose-gold of my magic.
Her attention dropped to my chest. It didn’t look any different. There was no scar, no trace of what my sister had removed. No evidence at all that I’d had a spell-lock. Though, given Fauna’s demon senses, she probably didn’t hear my mortal heart beating anymore.
Something like sadness crept into her features, though I swore I sensed horror. It had a prickly feeling attached to it, distracting me. If this was how Wrath sensed emotions, it was uncomfortable and would take some getting used to. I had forgotten what this was like. I’d need to retrain myself to focus on sensing feelings only when it suited me, or I’d go mad.
“Did they force this upon you?” she asked quietly.
My brow arched. Having my true form back was hardly a curse. Yet my friend sounded as if she were speaking with the dead. I attempted a smile that had her swallowing harder. I sighed.
“No. No one forced me to do anything. Except maybe the witches when they forced me to be a player in their games.”
I moved into the room on silent feet, and the sensation I’d felt radiating from Fauna escalated. Fear. That’s what my friend felt in my presence now.
My fingers trailed over the open grimoires. The paper felt rougher, the scent of ink stronger. “Did you know they locked me in true hell? The Shifting Isles. Clever name for a magical island that can shift time and place. Seemed only right for that to be the place I returned to my true self.”
A beat of silence passed. Followed by another. Fauna took me in again, scrutinizing. I picked up notes of smoke on my clothing, in my hair. She did, too. Suspicion laced her voice. “Did you attack them?”
My lips curved. “I might have paid them a visit.”
“His majesty will—”
“The move against my betrayers was justified. What did you find?”
“I…” Fauna followed my gaze to where it landed on the grimoire she’d been reading. Some of her earlier excitement slowly returned as she pointed to the page. “I think I found a way to break the curse.”
“The one on Wrath?”
“Yes, but that’s not all.” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but it was better than before. The fear was also abating a little, though it still lingered uncomfortably. “The Blade of Ruination is more than a hexed object itself—it can somehowdestroycurses and hexes. I’m not exactly sure how it works, but I found something else that might explain more.”
She grabbed another text and shoved it toward me. An intricate map of House Wrath that featured tunnels and temples and caverns hidden below like underground cities and towns.
“There is a place on these grounds called the Well of Memory,” Fauna continued. “And I believe it is the key to finding out more about the Blade of Ruination.” She pointed to a section of the map labeledGARDENS. “You must pay the goddess a tithe to enter the Well of Memory’s chamber. It’s unpleasant—the well must deem you worthy, and the memories it shows you are often nightmares others have purged. Or other things they wished to forget.”
“Is that all?”
“It’s not as easy as it sounds.” Fauna bit her lip. “The well can trick you into thinking you are reallyinthe memory it’s showing you. Some are said to get stuck there for eternity, reliving the worst moments of memories that do not even belong to them.”
It was not something I felt concerned over, but I knew spell-locked Emilia would. Fauna was doing remarkably well hiding her fear outwardly now, but I still sensed it simmering below the surface. My lack of fear didn’t exactly frighten her, but it did make her uncomfortable. We couldn’t afford to have any distractions with so much at stake—I needed to soothe over her worry so she could focus.
“How do you avoid that?” I asked.
Fauna’s eyes narrowed, but she must have decided against inquiring if I was truly worried or appeasing her. She glanced down at the book in front of her.
“According to this text, if you focus on your question and don’t lose sight of it, you’ll be able to sift through memories until you find your answer. The memories are mostly imbued in clear quartz, hematite, amethyst, or lapis lazuli. You hold one crystal at a time while thinking of your question; supposedly it will attract the correct memory to you or vice versa.”
I nodded, thinking of the question I needed the answer to the most. “You’re certain this well will know the location of the Blade of Ruination if I ask it to show me where it is?”
“Theoretically, it should. Someone must know where it is, or at least know of someone who’d come into contact with it. Even if it’s not directly spoken about, it might appear in a purged memory. It might not lead you to it directly, but it could give us a starting point.” Fauna exhaled. “But I personally don’t know anyone who’s ever used the well successfully.”
That caught my attention. “Not even the princes of Hell?”
“They cannot. No one knows why. His majesty certainly tried when the curse went into effect. He even allowed Envy to try to use it. Both attempts failed. They couldn’t access any memories. Not from mortals, or demons, or any supernaturals.”
How curious. “The well was here before the demon princes started their rule, correct?”
“Yes.” Fauna nodded. “The goddess statue is new, but records indicate the well itself predates the formation of the Houses of Sin by quite some time. But…”
“It doesn’t predate me.”
