Stone cracked beneath us. A thin fissure appeared next to Kieran, quickly spreading in a circle around us and the bed. Another fracture formed at the foot of the bed, and more at the head and along the sides.
Kieran stepped back as yet another shallow rift split the floor beneath the bed. “What the—?”
Silver light sparked and spread along the cracks in the stone. It pulsed and held, revealing a circle with an overlapping pointed cross inside.
We were staring at an old Atlantian symbol—two symbols, actually. The circle with the line through it meant life, and the one at the top meant death.
Combined, they stood for lifeanddeath.
Blood and Bone.
As the intense brightness faded and the rumbling ceased, we both looked at Poppy. Eather emanated from under her skin, illuminating the intricate network of veins that ran throughout her body.
“My gods,” Kieran whispered.
Hope and fear I’d kept in check this whole damn time crashed together, making me sway.
She will know herself.
She will recognize us.
Those words were like a prayer to the no-longer-sleeping gods as I repeated them over and over.
“Please.” My voice cracked.
The glow faded from her veins as a mass of silver-streaked shadows gathered beneath her flesh like storm clouds in the summer. They rolled down her chest and ran over her arms and legs.
Poppy’s fingers twitched.
My legs went out from under me. I landed beside the bed on my knees, watching as Kieran pitched forward, catching himself with his palms on the bed.
She will know herself.
She will recognize us.
A spasm ran through her arm, and her knee bent slightly. Picking up her hand, I shuddered as I felt the change. “Her skin is warm. See?”
Placing his hand over hers, Kieran exhaled roughly. “It is.”
Relief left me fucking weak as her left arm jerked and her chest rose. I could’ve sworn ours did the same.
“Poppy,” I whispered, leaning toward her.
A heartbeat passed, and then her fingers tightened around mine. Kieran gripped our clasped hands, and my cheeks dampened.
She will know herself.
She will—
All I could hear was Kieran’s shallow, quick breaths as her lashes fluttered and her eyes opened.
There were no pupils. No discernible irises. Framed by thick lashes, they were orbs of pure molten silver, brimming with the essence—the eather—of the Primal gods.
I no longer felt the stone beneath my knees. Neither Kieran nor I moved.
She will know herself.
She will remember—
