Evie gave her a knowing grin. “Because…reasons. Now, let’s get you dressed so I can show you my prophecy proof.”
“That’s what we’re calling it now? Prophecy proof?”
“Well, that’s what it is.” Evie turned, holding a woolen gown. “Wait till you see. You won’t believe it.”
After Evie helped her dress in layers—stockings, shift, woolen gown, and boots, she took her by the hand and led her out of the bedchamber.
“Where are we going?” Chloe asked.
“You’ll see.”
They went down the curved stone staircase, then crossed the empty great hall to another corridor where she turned a corner and headed to one of the oversized oak doors. She pushed it open and paused in the doorway to wait for her to enter.
She said nothing as Chloe stepped inside and took in her surroundings.
Candelabras burned bright in the room, illuminating it in a soft glow. There was a large bed on one wall with thick curtains. On the other, a cold hearth. In front of that, a chair.
On the walls were large, colorful tapestries. At first glance, they seemed ordinary. But when she peered at them a long moment, she noticed the images moved. She pressed a hand to her throat as a quiet gasp escaped her.
As a historian, she’d seen her share of tapestries. But nothing like this. Nothing with shimmery thread woven through the fibers. They were large enough to cover the walls with six of them around the room.
The first one was of a woman with long silvery hair and bright blue eyes standing on a craggy hill, her fisted hand raisedto the night sky. Her hand glowed with streaks of light seeping through her fingers. Two women flanked her—one with black hair, the other with red hair. Lightning flickered all around them. Below them, an army charged toward them led by a man wielding a shiny great axe.
As she stared at the woman in the center, a sense of familiarity came over her. She was certain that woman was Moira, the shopkeeper from Mystic Treasures. The shopkeeper who had given her the piece of the stone that transported her back in time.
The second tapestry was of a bolt of lightning hitting the ground in front of the three women. The ground was lit up in a bright flash.
The third left her lightheaded when she saw the woman on the ground with the fiery red hair dressed in black. Hair that looked much like her sister’s. In the sky, a rip as if she had fallen straight through the hole.
The next tapestry made her weak. Her knees threatened to give out as she peered at the image. The face staring back at her was her own. Behind her, Bruce. As if the tapestry she stared at foretold of her arrival in the past with him hot on her heels. The picture was of when they had plummeted through the portal. The movement of the image was in slow motion, but it was clear to Chloe what she was seeing.
She was looking at her arrival in the past.
The one next to that had a faint image of another woman, but it was a silhouette. She was faceless. The wind blew her hair to one side. She was tall, thin, and curvy.
Chloe understood who this woman was. She was certain it was Brianna.
The final tapestry was nothing more than a damask design in shimmering thread. No image floated on it like the others as though it were blank, waiting for whatever happened next.
She glanced back at Evie who still stood at the door, a calm expression on her face.
“What…what is all this?” Her voice was a weak whisper.
“The prophecy,” Evie said, matter-of-factly.
“I don’t understand.” She shook her head.
Evie moved deeper into the room to join her. She pointed to the first wall hanging. “This is the Night of Shadows. I told you about that before. The woman…that’s Moira.”
Chloe wasn’t wrong then—itwasMoira. Hot pinpricks skipped down her spine. “Moira is…”
“A goddess of Time,” Evie said. “This one is the Shattering.” She pointed to the next one. “When the three goddesses broke the keystone into three pieces. Past, Present, Future. You can see that here.”
She pointed to the ground where the stone was broken into the three pieces.
“And the third one?” she asked.
“That’s when I arrived here.” Evie moved closer and stared at the wall hanging with a mixture of horror and resignation. “Callum said I fell from the sky.”
