Once again, she couldn’t shake the edginess that assailed her—the prickling sensation on her skin, like tiny needles jabbing her from the inside out. If she had been in her wolf form, the fur along her spine would stand to attention. But despite the primitive warning signs, the bedroom was marginally safer than the kitchen with fewer windows.
Allegra stared at the pale blue box, grubby from years of handling. It was the size of a small hardback book. Unaccountably, her hand trembled, and a wash of stark fear gripped her. What if this box meant nothing, and her memory of the conversation with Pierre resulted from teenage exaggeration? It was possible. She bit her lip, trying to remember the exact words her brother had used. He’d come to her room early one morning on the day she’d been leaving to head back to boarding school in France.
What had he told her?
Her brow knit as she concentrated. He’d said their father had given the runes to him, and he was passing them on to her. They were old but not toys, and he’d opened the lid to show her the contents. She remembered disappointment because boys, music, and makeup had held more interest. A rueful smile curved her lips. She’d been a typical teen. Pierre had instructed her to keep them secure, and when she turned twenty-five, he’d explain their history.
And this wasn’t progressing with her investigation. It was full-out procrastination.
Allegra gulped and unfastened the rusty clasp on the side that kept the box closed. She lifted the lid and scrutinized the black runes.
The eight runes were finely crafted and carved from black onyx. Each bore a unique symbol etched into its surface. She picked up each one, scrutinizing them. The heavy stones felt cool in Allegra’s hand and possessed a strange energy that coiled through her body and settled deep in her bones. The sensation was dizzying and off-putting at first, but she soon became accustomed to the pulse and zing, finding it strangely welcoming. She ran her finger along each edge, testing the intricate pattern around the borders and the tiny divots in the glassy surface of the stone.
Allegra felt a connection she couldn’t explain, as though they were calling her, deepening the mystery because she’d recalled touching them when Pierre gave them to her. She’d have remembered if she’d experienced this familiarity. She gnawed her bottom lip and peered at the runes in her palm. The symbols meant nothing, but she could research the meanings online or at a library.
She set the arcane glyphs aside and paid closer attention to the box’s lining. Beneath the top layer of tissue paper, she glimpsed pages bearing words written in ink. Ah! Her memories hadn’t played her false.
With trembling fingers, she carefully unfolded the pages from the box. A white envelope fell out, but she set it aside to read the first page.
The Val-des-Loups Prophecy
Huh? What prophecy? She’d never heard of anything like this concerning the kingdom. Shaking her head, she read further.
In a kingdom long forgotten,
Where the bloodline was begotten,
Runes were cast, ancient and old,
To choose a ruler with a heart of gold.
Their power great, their magic strong,
Each one waiting to belong,
To the one with royal blood,
The heir of Val-des-Loups destined and good.
But the runes will not bind,
Unless the true heir they find,
Their bond will bring prosperity,
To a kingdom once lost in obscurity.
So heed this warning, all who dare,
Only the rightful ruler shall bear,
The magic of the ancient runes,
And reign over the kingdom until they pass to the next heir.
For when the prophecy is fulfilled,
And the true leader is skilled,
