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Saphira was not going to be pleased about that, but I held no qualms about it. My patience was eternal. If I had to wait a while to get my realms back, then that was exactly what I would do.
When she was finished, she snapped her fingers and the spool disappeared. She rose from her wooden stool, which squeaked with relief. She walked towards me, her shoulders permanently sagged from spending her immortal life hunched over a spinning wheel.
“Now, let me see the pretties.” She extended her hand.
I let her take them, and she snagged them so fast it was a wonder she didn’t take my hand off. She unraveled the cloth quickly, brought them to her nose, and took a nostril-flaring sniff, inhaling them. She blew out a satisfied breath, a massive smile flaring on her weathered face.
“I am pleased with the seeds, so much so that I would like to offer you one more glimpse of your future.” She rolled her wrist and the seeds disappeared. In their place, a dagger with a crooked blade materialized. She rolled her wrist towards me, her palm facing upwards. “Give me your hand.”
I placed my large mitt in her tiny, fruit-stained palm.
Her fingers turned claw-like, sinking into my skin as she tugged my hand towards her. “After the war is over, you will face a much larger challenge. Except it does not come in the form of kingly matters, but rather . . . matters of the heart.” She ran the tip of the dagger against my palm, slitting the flesh open, but no blood filled the wound. “When the war ends, you will find your mate. You will know it is her because she will be the one to make you bleed.” She let go of my hand, the two of us watching as the wound began to stitch itself back together.
“A mate?” I said, unable to believe what I was hearing.
“Yes, a mate.” The goddess nodded, a soft hum falling from her lips. She looked up at me, breaking off the sound. In a cautionary tone, she said, “But heed this warning, and heed it well—your mate’s life is linked with the very male she is destined to kill.”
Her warning did not sit well with me.
Sage
“You saw Von’s phantom?” Kaleb asked as he stood beside the fireplace, his frame outlined with a red-orange glow. He had arrived at my balcony doors moments ago, a map of Clearwell Castle in his hand and the cold night air biting at his back.
“I did,” I replied as I hid the map underneath my mattress—something I was quite excited about Kaleb finding. I would look at it first thing tomorrow, but right now, I needed to speak with Kaleb about what Von had told me. “He said thereis an item that can break the deal between him and Arkyn. It’s called the Blade of Moram. Have you ever heard of it?”
“I can’t say that I have,” Kaleb said as he rubbed the back of his neck, his elbow pointed to the stone ceiling. “But I’ll talk to Fal about it. She has been a reaper much longer than I have, andhas more connections. Maybe she’ll be able to speak with the higher ups and see if they know anything about it.”
I joined him at the fireplace, the wood crackling and popping as the flames gnawed away at the split timber. “That sounds like a good plan. Let me know if she learns anything.”
“I will,” Kaleb said. “I’ll ask her first thing when I get back to the Spirit Realm.”
“Alright.” I nodded. “By the way, how are thingsgoingwith her?”
I glanced at him just in time to catch the hint of a smile.
“Things are going really well.” His voice was lighter, his expression matching. “I doubt I could have made the transition from the Living Realm to the Spirit Realm without her. She’s been good for me, Sage, in ways I didn’t know I needed. I’ve never felt this way for anyone else before.”
“Then . . . I’m happy for you,” I answered warmly. And truly, I was.
If anyone deserved a slice of happiness, it was Kaleb.
The next morning, I woke well before the sun had a chance to claim the horizon—well before Brunhilde charged in to mold me into aperfectlady. I took the map of Clearwell Castle out from underneath my mattress, grabbed a quill and a bottle of ink from my dresser, and sat cross-legged on the cool, stone floor.
During the day, the king was surrounded by an entourage of people and guards, which meant it would be hard to slip adagger into his back without being noticed. But during the night, I doubted his entourage watched over him as he slept. Sure, he might have a few guards posted outside his door, but if I could find a way in while he slept, that might grant me an opportunity to make good on my vow.
The question was . . . where were the king’s chambers?
I didn’t expect the map to blatantly stateking’s chambers herewith a great big arrow, or anything like that. My plan was to use the map to mark down the areas I had been to and figure out which areas I needed to explore. Through the process of elimination, I would be able to figure out roughly where the so-called king slumbered.
Dipping my quill into the bottle of ink, I began ticking off the places I had been.
As I worked, I started noticing that every so often, there was a double line along some of the walls—particularly in the wing I was in, which Brunhilde once said was the older part of the castle. In fact, almost all of the hallways in this wing were drawn with double lines.
My brows drew together as I leaned in closer.
Why? Was it something structural? It was possible, but this was a map, not an architectural print, so why would the artist bother to document something that was structural?
. . . They wouldn’t.
