“Willowgulch has never attacked Dimhollow?” It seems almost impossible for that to be true, given they share a border.
“Oh, they have tried, but their elven flesh is so easy to freeze in our enchanted winter, and their kind does not last long against our wraiths.”
I run a finger through the warm water. “It sounds like a lovely and peaceful existence, honestly.”
“It is, which is what makes what I am about to tell you even more disturbing. On her deathbed, my mother channeled a prophecy. She said that there would come a day when Dimhollow’s defenses would fall, when we would have to flee north, where the elves could not reach us. She said that in this time, a son of Malek would rise to defend us and to restore peace to Tenebris.
“Over time, several of our elders came to interpret her vision as referring to Brahm. After all, he was the only son of Malek left alive, and he did bring peace, even if his reign is fraught with brutality. But there was one part of my mother’s prophecy that didn’t quite fit.”
“What was that?”
“Aurora said that he would have a dragon at his side. Now, there was a dragon living in our forest. She laid an egg near the lava rivers around Mount Damocles. But if the dragon still exists, she has hidden herself deep within the mountain and never comes out. No one has seen her in centuries. Our elders insisted that the dragon was a metaphor for Nevina—after all, she is a kind of monster, is she not?”
I nod, but the back of my neck is tingling as she draws her final conclusions.
“It was never Brahm or Nevina. The son is Damien and the dragon is you. Which means Dimhollow will soon fall, and you and that mate of yours are destined to defend us and restore peace.”
I look down at my reflection in the water, considering all she’s said. Considering the promise I made to Aurora during the trials in Night Haven, on that magical plane that both did and didn’t exist. “I think you’re right, Catarina. But I’ll be useless to him if I don’t get my power back. Can you help me descend to walk the shadowpath?”
“I can,” she says. “The magic is within my grasp.”
I release a breath of relief.
“Only it’s dangerous.” She meets my eyes. “You must be stronger, Eloise, and you must have the full cooperation of your mate. It’s essential if we are to be successful.”
I frown. Something tells me the first part will be far easier than the last.
36
The Queen
ELOISE
After my bath, Catarina tells me there is someone I must meet before we return to her cottage. All I want to do is get back to Damien and tell him what I’ve learned about Aurora’s prophecy, but Catarina insists. I owe her everything, and I like spending time with the witch. She reminds me of Maeve. So, I follow her to a cottage that is only slightly smaller than her own.
Catarina knocks on the door, a wooden deal with chipping blue paint. A straight-backed woman answers. Her sophisticated demeanor catches me off guard. She’s tall, dark, and her resemblance to Damien is striking.
“You must be Eloise,” the woman says.
At first, I think she’s a ghost, but unlike when I saw King Malek, she’s in living color, dressed as a witch, and I can hear her quite clearly.
“Queen Nyxadora,” I say breathlessly, dropping into a curtsy.
Her brows lift. “How do you know who I am? We have never met. Did my son tell you I was here?”
I shake my head. “We hardly had a chance. He insisted I use the bath for healing after my ordeal in Blackspire. But, it is just… You look so much like him.”
She frowns. “I was sorry to hear about your ordeal. Anyone who spends too long in the company of elves needs healing.”
“So I’ve come to understand.” I shake my head, still disbelieving my own eyes. The queen is alive! This changes everything.
“Please, come in out of the cold. I want to get to know my son’s mate.” She welcomes me into the cottage, which is much cleaner and more organized than Catarina’s, but then, I suppose dusting is easier when you don’t have a ceiling of medicinal herbs hanging to dry.
“I’m embarrassed to ask, but what should I call you? Your Majesty?”
“Darklands, no!” She laughs. “Call me Nyx. It is what my friends call me, and I do hope we can be friends.”
“I’d like that?—”
