And I’d rather not waste time figuring out how long I have left.
More than that, thisJoiningrequires Ryc and I to exchange pieces of our souls. Ryc isn’t willing to attempt the ritual until my soul has been mended. Nowhere inThe Joiningdoes it denotehow largea piece.
I’m thankful for his concern, but it places me on a tight timeline.
I’ve mereweeksto figure this out.
Perhaps I expected too much of the royal library to contain at leastsomedemonic, necromantic, or blood magic knowledge. For all I know, what I needed would have been in the Moon Temple library—blood magic rituals weren’t shied away from there.
Nor would I be surprised to learn it was that knowledge Netharis ordered his demons to turn to ash.
This game of the gods… I’m always a step behind.
When I don’t want to be a player.
I’ve never wanted to.
Maybe I will take Eve’s joking suggestion. Certainly nothing could go wrong placing an ad in the daily paper calling for necromancers or blood mages in a country where both practices are illegal.
I understand the apprehension surrounding both.
But the magic itself isn’t inherently evil. It serves a purpose.
It can be used in ways that aren’t damning.
This fae Joiningis a perfect example.
Through the window before me, the first beams of the rising sun crest from behind the castle and spill onto the courtyard below. The veilflower leaves shift, swinging toward the east, and glitter in the light. Thousands of leaves shimmer, some larger than I am tall.
Several dark blue robed researchers scramble, those too stubborn to sleep. They snatch their notepads, scribbling frantically, their eyes wide as they note the anomaly happening before them.
Why wouldn’t veilflowers enjoy the sun while they’re here?
The veil’s skies are perpetually gray.
More researchers will be joining those in the courtyard soon,ready to return to work. The castle is now plagued with them. When they’re not in the courtyard, they’re in the library, clearing my cluttered books in favor of their own messes. They’re in the dining room, the breakfast parlor, the foyer offices…
I can’t get away from them.
It reminds me of temple life.
Instead of silver and black robes, they’re navy.
Instead of prayer at dawn and dusk, they’re meeting to share their findings and observations. They take their meals together, forming small, familiar bands.
And once again, I find myself observing from a distance.
“Are you venturing into the city for today’s celebration?” A feminine voice from behind pulls me from my thoughts.
I shift away from the window, glancing over my shoulder to find a pair of researchers emerge from the library the floor below. A human woman and fae female, both with their hair piled atop their heads in hastily created buns complete with an array of writing tools fashioned like quills. As I slip closer to the banister unnoticed, I lend them my ear from above, and nothing else.
“Oh, for the autumnal equinox?” the human asks. “I’m thinking about it.”
That’s right.
That would be today.
Which means the city is going to bepackedwith people. What a terrible time for it. Those who travel into Ollora for the festivities will also be enticed to swing by the castle courtyard.
