“You should read it,” he says. “Both you and King Alaryc are now subject to the whims of the council. You could be made to ascend tomorrow. It would benefit you to understand what’s expected of you during the Joining ritual.”
I groan at the truth of his words.
“I will. I gave my word,” I say, and it sounds a lot like I’m trying to convince myself. I sigh. “I just… I need the world to not fall apart.”
Ineed to not fall apart.
How can I focus on some faerie tradition requiring me to give a piece of myself away when all I have left are pieces?
A white streak swoops before me and, startled, I reel back with a gasp. Cyran catches me, quickly bracing an arm against my back. Otherwise I would have met the ground. As I pull myself upright with his assistance, I glance right, at the parapet, and the raventucks its wings away, pinning its eye against me.
I’m greeted with a low warble.
The damn bird has returned. Wrangling my surprise aside and ignoring the creature’s pointed stare, the dark chain pooled beneath its feet captures my attention. There’s what appears to be a pendant sitting between its talons, but it’s mangled and tarnished by time.
“What is this?” Cyran asks, studying the creature.
He reaches around me and the creature pulls its head into its chest, its beak opening as it screeches. Cyran freezes. But the loud, punctuated screeching continues.
“Not for you, it says,” I laugh over the bird’s sound as I lean away from it, lifting my shoulder to guard my ear.
Cyran draws his hand away and the creature silences itself.
“Is this the same creature you found?” he asks.
“It shouldn’t be. That creature died,” I reply flatly, watching the raven as I slowly straighten myself. “That being said, this creature followed me into the veil last week.”
Lavender eyes dart from me to the bird.
It pecks at the chain before turning its eye to me.
“Is that possible?” Cyran asks, his voice a near whisper.
“Is passing through wards as if they don’t exist possible?” I ask, shrugging.
“For a conduit of Aether, yes,” he answers.
“A wh—” I stop myself as the raven takes the chain in its beak and hoists its head.
The bowl-like pendant swings and as I lean closer, the bird takes a couple of steps back. Like the chain itself, it’s tarnished, but as it slows in its swing, letters etched into the convex side become clear. Much of it too darkened and dirty to read.
But a single word, near the bottom, catches my eye.
Celesta
“Impossible,” I breathe and my hand darts out, snatching the chain.
The raven caws, releasing the chain, and takes off in a flap offeathers.
“This is mine,” I whisper, turning to Cyran. “This ismynecklace.”
It looks nothing like it had when Sunshine passed it to me, but the magic… it’s still there. It thrums against my skin, along my fingers, a low, steady vibration. Having worn it against my heart for a few weeks, it’s a familiar feeling.
My eyes race to the rooftops of the castle, to the trees, along the curtain wall—nothing. No white.
Gone.
The raven is gone once again.
