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“Go there if you wish to see if the mad king exists.”

“Thisis your royal house?” No guards? No glitter? No symbol of power? Perhaps the leaders of the West were mad.

Stefan nodded. “No one goes in unless invited. The ones who are invited, we don’t see them again.” He winked, as though the thought were entertaining and not horrifying.

My eyes dropped to where Calista gripped the hilt of her dagger. Her knuckles had gone white. Dark imaginings of creatures with needle-like teeth and vicious ghouls and demons filled my head.

“Hurry.” Stefan poked his head from around the corner of an alleyway.

I followed close behind Calista as her brother led us down a case of stone steps. At the end of the stairwell was an arched doorway, a strand of dangling bones over the top.

Stefan lifted one fist and rapped his knuckles against the door, hard enough the bones clicked together.

We waited for no less than ten breaths before the hinges groaned and a plume of dust broke away when the door cracked open. From the shadows peeked a milky eye, like storm clouds over a blue sea. The eye was buried in sagging skin and hooded beneath wiry eyebrows, but the remaining features were hidden away behind the door.

With an eerie pace, slow and steady, the eye scanned over Stefan’s features. The brow flicked. Then, with a twitch, the gaze shifted to me. For a long breath I was merely studied until the eye narrowed as if befuddled. At long last, the eye fell to Calista.

A gasp slipped through hidden lips, followed by a low, raspy chuckle. “Is this the part where she finds the truth?”

Calista rolled her eyes to me. “See what I mean?” With an aggravated grunt, she looked back to the eye watching us through the crack. “I’m here for quills, Forbi.”

The woman still hadn’t opened the door, but sniffed the air. “Methinks she knows fate is amok.”

Calista’s fists balled. “Three hells, do you want mykoparor not? Keep talking nonsense and you won’t get it.”

The storyteller reached into the deep pocket of her trousers and removed a few rusted looking copper coins.

The woman behind the door harrumphed. “She knows how it’s done.”

“Hells, take the coin. I’m not here for a silly rune reading, and you’ve read Stef 'til he was red in the face.”

Forbi glanced at Stefan, then me. “What about the other?”

I flicked my fingers at my sides. “What about me?”

“Quill for a read.” Forbi sniffed the air again. “Is this the part where two lost crowns find each other?”

Two lost crowns?

“Mad old bitty,” Calista muttered.

“Forbi.” Stefan stepped between us, a smooth grin on his face. “Darling, Forbi. If Princess Saga agrees—” The old woman gasped, the eye peering from the door widened, but Stefan didn’t pause. “Read her path in the runes. But if the story is to continue for more tales to unfold, we desperately have need of a quill.”

Forbi’s mouth pinched into a narrow line. “Is this the part where the moon turns to blood?”

“Ah, you’ve noticed the moon.” Calista rolled her eyes. “As if any of the rest of us didn’t.”

I swallowed thickly. There was something strange here. Within the whole of Raven Row. Perhaps Calista was accustomed to it, or perhaps she chose not to see it, but even here with the odd woman and her milky eyes, there was a soft burn in my veins from power unseen.

Forbi looked to Stefan. “Is this the part that leads to the lost truth?”

“Very likely.” Stefan winked.

Did he not hear the foreboding tone of her voice? Perhaps he thought the woman as mad as his sister did and took no stock in her ramblings. As for me, the hair lifted on the back of my neck.

All at once, the door swung open. Forbi stood a head shorter than me, but her body was thick and imposing. Leathery rolls of skin made up her neck, and her eyes were bold and wide while her lips were hardly there. Long, silver hair rained down her back in a stern braid, and her hips were wider than the doorframe.

The dress she wore had patches of other fabrics to keep holes covered, and seemed like at one time, the garment might’ve been grand. Red satin like fresh blood, gold trim along the hem and bodice, and a plunging neckline that revealed too much of Forbi’s wrinkled cleavage.

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