Using care, I sifted through the pages, pausing here and there. The illustrations were unsettling. Cloaked creatures with hollow eyes, their hands outstretched like claws. Whole villages of people lying on the ground, turned to husks. And a wasteland spreading out around them.
Beside me, Kerralyn shivered. We exchanged a look.
“Skathes,” she hissed. “They’re a recent thing; they came through the veil sixteen years ago, yet this book appears ages older than that.”
“Maybe whoever wrote it came through the veil with them,” I said.
Kerralyn frowned. “A very interesting theory.”
Outside my window, the castle settled into its nighttime rhythm, punctuated by the distant shuffle of guards changing shifts and the soft creak of ancient stones cooling after the day’s warmth. A night breeze stirred the curtains, carrying the scent of camellias from the gardens where Trew had kissed me senseless only hours ago.
I flipped back to the start of the book, the ancient binding creaking like bones, grimacing again at the illustration on the first page. Skathes stood in organized formations behind a figure wreathed in shadows.
Turning the page, I found more drawings showing the wasteland spreading around them. A cloaked figure with their arms lifted as if they thought they could command mindless beings.
Another showed a shimmering wall with a fissure down the center. The crack in the veil that let them through?
I turned to the first chapter and started reading, skimming through background information we already knew until I reached a section that felt new.
“Listen to this,” I read aloud, my voice unsteady. “‘From my studies of the Skathe I caught but did not kill…” I gaped at my friends. “This person actually captured a Skathe rather than kill it.” I flipped the book closed to look at the spine, holding my spot where I was reading with a hand. “Someone named Velacross Blyte wrote this.” I glanced Kerralyn’s way. “Is the name familiar to you?”
She shook her head.
“Velacross was brave,” Derren said.
Lexie scoffed. “Or stupid.”
“Both,” Kerralyn said, lifting her journal onto her lap to take notes.
“From my studies,” I continued to read. “The Skathe are feral creatures driven by one need alone: a thirst for energy. Magical power, to be exact. Without it, they die. I even had to carefully feed it some of my own magic to keep it alive. Sadly, before I could conclude even a quarter of my experiments, this one died. My attempts to take others were unsuccessful. They either knew what I planned, because they would wither before my eyes when I came near with my magical net or…”
I flipped the page, squinting, trying to decipher the scrawling handwriting that had faded in places and was smeared in others, asif water had been spilled on the book. I couldn’t read the rest of the sentence, but scrolled ahead to a cleaner section.
“Our belief that they come from beyond the veil is true,” I read. “And this is not the first time, sadly.”
Kerralyn leaned forward. “What?”
I held up my finger and kept reading. “We were able to heal the first breach, but I’m afraid we will not be able to mend the second.”
“This isn’t the first time the veil was split?” Lexie asked, her eyes wide.
“Why didn’t I read about this?” Kerralyn asked.
Derren grunted. “Maybe no one but Velacross knew.” He nudged his chin toward the book. “What else does it say?”
“The Shadow-Born, as I prefer to call them,” I read. “Exist as base creatures of instinct and hunger, knowing neither thought nor purpose.”
“Nasty things,” Lexie said with a scowl.
“They must either be killed by removing their heads or driven back from where they came from. But only one person—” I leaned forward, trying to decipher the smears. “The page got wet. I can’t read what it says.”
Kerralyn couldn’t either.
I had to skim a few pages ahead to find anything legible.
Pherin pressed closer to my neck, her feathers ruffling with unease.
“Ancient texts speak of those who learned to bridge the realms,” I turned the page, still reading, “to reach across the divide and impose their will upon the will-less. When realms divide, only living magic can bridge them. Ink and will are not enough.”
