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“Speak for yourself.” When Calista met my gaze, she smirked. “You’ve been crying and missing your king all night. Not sleeping isn’t caring for you.”
“Hard not to miss him.”
“I told him about you, you know.” Her grin widened. “He didn’t seem too pleased at the time, but I told him about the raven that’d heal a broken crown. Like I said—you were his destiny.”
“You knew of me?”
“Only in the words. Now it makes a great deal of sense. Your moonlight curse showed him the truth. He healed your crown.”
“I have no crown.”
Calista snorted. “Yeah. I’ve heard that before, but funny, the last two who argued the same point are now seated on a throne.”
I shifted on the chair, lacing my fingers in my lap, desperate to speak of anything else.
Perhaps the girl noticed. From the pocket in her trousers, she removed a leather pouch that was attached to a bit of twine. “I have to alter tales with care, but it seems the Norns don’t mind much if lovers meet during horrid circumstances.”
She pointed at the pouch when I hesitated. “Go on. Take a look.”
I dragged my bottom lip between my teeth and opened the small pouch. Inside were three rolled pieces of fibrous parchment. I unrolled the first, my lips parted. “Is this real? Will this happen?”
Calista sighed and slumped in her chair. “Look, Raven Queen, I know how important he is. I had a thought if you got to see him once or twice . . . or three times, maybe it would keep your heart steady and we can dig your damn kingdom out of this mess.”
I blinked against the sting in my eyes and read the words:
Deep in sleep, unmask a secret place within your love’s embrace. To touch, to feel, to know he is real.
A story, a dream, to take me to Ari.
“Use them wisely,” she said, jabbing her finger at me. “No guarantees the words will ever come again to write more.”
My chin quivered as I tucked the parchment back in the pouch. I clutched it to my chest. Whatever it meant, be it a dream or some mystic place where I might see, touch, feel Ari again, I’d do anything.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Calista merely shrugged and rose from the table. She stretched her hands over her head. “Well, should you wish to sleep, do so.” The grin on her face hinted to a bit of mischief. “I’m going to sleep myself. We have a busy morning.”
“Doing what?” Hells, I was anxious to do anything, any move, so long as it brought me closer to helping Ari.
“I need a new quill. That means we need to visit the old hags. They handle post and print.” Calista frowned. “They call themselves the Norns since they’re rune seers. Their prophecies are nonsensical, and they’re always speaking like they’re reading a damn fairy tale.”
“You trust them?”
“I avoid them,” she said. “They’re always looking at me like they’re going to devour me. I need a quill, though. I keep having a thought and won’t know what it means unless I can write it out.”
“What thought?”
“I keep thinking about a falcon.” She tossed her hands in the air, then climbed the ladder to a loft bed that hung above Stefan’s. “Sleep well, Raven Queen.”
When I met her gaze, she grinned again and pointed to her burgundy candle. The same candle she’d used to ignite Ari’s tale for guidance.
My eyes danced between the pouch of three fated tales and the flame. When I looked to Calista’s bunk, she had already rolled over onto her shoulder. The beat of my pulse thudded in my skull when I lifted the candle and trekked back to my cot.
I set the candlestick on the floor and took out the first rolled parchment. My body tingled in anticipation. What would happen? What would a fated tale feel like? My experience with seidr surrounded a curse of a cold heart, but this involved Ari.
Before I hesitated a moment longer, I let the flame devour the small parchment. By the time the final piece scorched to ash, my eyes fluttered closed and I drifted into darkness.
Chapter3
