“Let’s go,” Carver murmured, setting his hand on the small of Amryn’s back.
Her lips pressed together, but she didn’t argue. She scooped up the journal and deposited it back in the small satchel she’d brought.
“I wish I could have been more help,” Ysabel said. “Perhaps next time.”
Marc grunted.
Carver felt the same, but he was certain the women would make them meet again. Amryn might even want Ysabel to use her gift on the bloodstone, especially ifthey couldn’t discover the information they needed in any other way. Namely, how to destroy it.
Amryn hung the satchel on her shoulder before facing Ysabel again. “I’m sorry it caused you pain.”
Ysabel gave a weak smile. “Pain is a part of our gifts sometimes.”
Marc’s hands twisted as he signed.
Ysabel’s lips twitched. “Marc is reminding me that rest is essential to my recovery. And since I frightened him so much, he is insisting we wait at least a couple of weeks before we try that again.”
Marc’s stern expression made Carver wonder if his words hadn’t been a little more emphatic than Ysabel’s translation. Regardless, Carver said, “Of course.” He pulled out a small purse filled with coin.
Ysabel shook her head. “This was a favor between friends.”
Marc snorted and snatched the purse from Carver’s hand.
Ysabel rolled her eyes. “Or not.”
“Thank you again,” Amryn said.
Carver led her to the door, but before they could step through, Ysabel called out Amryn’s name.
When they turned to face the empath, her expression was serious. “I don’t know if it’s just because you’ve had possession of this journal, but I felt you in its pages.” Her eyes flicked to Carver. “Both of you. And I don’t think that’s a good thing.” Her expression tensed. “Be careful.”
More unsettled than before, Carver squeezed Amryn’s hand and pulled her from the room.
Chapter 49
Amryn
“I’mnotsureaboutthis,” Amryn said, not for the first time.
She and Carver were standing in the small garden behind the Vincetti townhome. It had been a week since their visit to Ysabel, and while Amryn had tried not to obsess over the things they’d learned, it was difficult not to. They now knew Vondidhave visions of the future. And even though Amryn didn’t know exactly what his prophecy meant, she still felt the weight of every word.
As soon as she and Carver had returned to the palace that night, she’d written out the complete prophecy as Ysabel had recited it, including the opening lines Amryn had been missing. The words weren’t difficult to recall, since she had memorized those phrases long ago. Now, she simply had an order for them. And while every line of the prophecy chilled her, one replayed continually in her mind:Only one can decide the ultimate fate.
Amryn had no idea if she was theoneVon was referencing, but she felt a certain responsibility when it came to the prophecy. If this was a warning of the future, they needed to understand it. Especially if they were somehow involved in it. The only problem was, she didn’t know what todo. If shewasThe Flame, what did that really mean? What actions should she be taking? She sensed it must be tied to destroying the bloodstones, but since they had no idea how to do that, there wasn’t anything she could do right now.
Considering how stuck she felt, she was thrilled when Carver told her they’d be going to his family’s townhome for dinner.
Then he’d told her they would be going early to train her in self-defense, and her excitement had been replaced with anxiety. While she wanted a distraction, she wasn’t looking forward to this. She didn’t want to fail at whatever Carver tried to teach her.
Meeting his gaze now, she reminded him, “No matter how much I practice, I’ll never be effective in a fight.”
Carver gave her a smile, the gesture filled with assurance. “I told you I was working on a solution to that, remember?”
She glanced around them, even though she knew they were alone in the grassy area surrounded by flowering hedges. It was habit. Just as it was instinct to lower her voice as she said, “Nothing will be able to stop me from feeling any pain I inflict.”
“I know. Which is why I had to find a way around that.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a small square box.
She could feel his anticipation as he handed it to her. “Open it,” he prompted, shoving his hands into his pockets.
