The empire must fall. Only then can the world survive.
Amryn’s voice was quiet as she said, “Whether what Von saw was real or not, I think he believed it. And whatever dark future he saw, he thought it could be avoided if the empire was destroyed. If the Vayne line ended.”
Carver met her gaze, his stomach tightening. “You think that’s why he betrayed the emperor. Why he killed the empress and Argent’s parents.” Why he’d tried to kill Argent.
“I think it’s a possibility.” Her lips pursed. “Von must have had complete confidence in his gift. I think that’s the only way he could have justified killing people he knew. People who trusted him.”
Carver eyed the words on the page, tension thrumming through him. This talk of prophecies and the supernatural made his skin crawl. “We can speculate, but we’ll never know what Von was thinking. And even if he had visions, that doesn’t mean they’re perfect predictions. There are too many variables. People have free will, which means the future isn’t set in stone. Destiny doesn’t exist.”
Amryn didn’t respond right away, though she took the page back. She studied the words, a small furrow in her brow. “The words seem . . . personal, somehow. I’m not sure how else to describe it. Like I’m meant to know them. Like these words are a warning . . . for me.”
The hairs on his arms lifted. “That’s not possible.”
“‘The Flame, shaped by betrayal that ends in violent death,’” she quoted softly. She swallowed, her eyes meeting Carver’s. “My father’s betrayal led to my mother’s murder. That certainly shaped who I am. And this line—” She tapped it out on the paperas she read, “‘The Flame must choose to heal.’Heal, Carver,like I have the ability to heal people.” Her lips pursed, her eyes nearly overtaken by shadows as she looked at him. “What ifI’mthe Flame Von was talking about?”
He instantly shook his head. “Amryn—”
“I know it sounds insane, but look.” She pointed to the words on the page as she read, “‘The Sword, stained by the blood of enemies and innocents.’”She glanced up at him, pain ghosting in her eyes. “You’re a warrior, Carver. And what you experienced in Harvari left its mark on you. Stained you.”
Tension coiled in his shoulders. He glanced back at the lines about The Sword—and immediately wished he hadn’t.
The Sword, stained by the blood of enemies and innocents.
The Sword must break; break and be mended, so it can shatter anew.
The Sword will defend, and be defeated.
Failure.That was the word that echoed in his mind when he read those lines.
He met her gaze. “I don’t believe in prophecies.”
“I’m not sure I do either. But this all just seems too coincidental.” She took the page from him and scanned the words. “The Dragon could be a metaphor for the bloodstones. Some of the lines seem to fit. And the Storm—well, I guess that could be referring to the bloodstones as well. Or maybe an event? Von feared the ending of the very world, so maybe—”
He tugged the paper from her, meeting and holding her almost frenzied gaze. “Even if this is a prophecy ofsomefuture, it doesn’t mean it’sourfuture.”
She didn’t look like she fully believed him, but at least she was considering his words.
He tried a different tactic. “Your theory hinges on the fact that Von had visions of the future. That’s a huge leap. If Voncouldsee the future, how did he fail to kill Argent all those years ago? How was he caught by the knights?”
“No gift is infallible,” Amryn argued. “Besides, we don’t know the limits of his gift. Maybe he was able to see some things, but not everything. Or maybe he just couldn’t see his own future.” She shook her head. “I’d feel better if I could share the journal with Ysabel.”
He blinked. “The fortune-telling empath?”
“Yes. Ysabel can glimpse pieces of the past when she touches a person or an object. I want to know what she sees when she touches this journal. It might be the only way to learn more about Von and why he wrote these words.”
Carver was already shaking his head. “Going to Ysabel is too much of a risk. For both of you.”
“If we can learn something about this—or the bloodstones—it would be worth the risk.”
Carver didn’t agree. At all. But he could clearly read the stubborn set of Amryn’s jaw, and he knew she would not let this go.
Sighing, he set his limits. “We go together, and you’re not leaving my sight. If Ysabel refuses to use her gift in front of me, then we leave. If at any point I deem things unsafe, we leave—no argument. And you won’t tell Ysabel about the bloodstone.”
Amryn immediately nodded, the light in her eyes a little too eager. “I’ll send her a message and see when she can meet with us.”
Saints, he hoped he wouldn’t regret this.
Chapter 47
