The amulet placed atop it. Another incantation, soft and inexorable. His body begins to tremble. Malachi's arm tightens around me.
“Breathe, Menace,” he whispers in my ear.
I bite my tongue and nod as my eyes fill with tears. I can’t breathe. I can’t. I don’t deserve to.
Not right now. I hold onto the boy’s emotions, his defiance, and then all at once everything stops. His trembling. His defiance. All of it is sucked into the stones in his bleeding palm. Gone.
The healer rises and helps him to his feet. He turns toward us again. This time, when I reach for his emotions, there's nothing. A hollow where a person used to be.
Constantine's voice slices through the silence. "On behalf of the Everlasting, I, Lord Constantine, receive your truth."
He stops mid-sentence. Someone gasps. The Veritas healer looks up, yanking her hood down. Constantine does the same.Others follow—green cloaks, maroon cloaks, figures emerging from shadows I hadn't noticed. All of them staring upward. Malachi goes rigid against me. I follow their gaze to the open dome. The clouds are moving. Parting. Sprites, I think. But no …
Red spills across the parting clouds, and then I see it.
The moon.
Not a sliver. Not a glimpse through the Shroud. The full, perfect sphere of it, hanging in the sky. And it is red.
Red like a wound. Red like fire. The tears that were banked in my eyes trickle down my cheek as I look at it. I've never understood why ancient cultures built temples, wrote prophecies about it, and killed in its name. I do now. It is terrifying and beautiful.
Below, more gasps. I force myself to look away from the moon and find Anala. Her entire body is shaking. Freida moves to stand behind her, hands closing on her arms to steady her.
The gesture is practiced. Familiar from all the times Anala has had visions in the past and Freida has been there to catch her. Anala's head snaps back. Her eyes snap open and pure, burning silver eyes shine through.
No pupil, no iris, just light as she stares up at the blood moon. When she speaks, the voice that emerges is not hers. It is deeper. Darker. Ancient. It echoes through the rotunda as if the temple itself is speaking through her.
"When the blood moon rises and does not fall,the caged shall answer the kingdom's call.One year the red eye watches from above.One year to choose between duty and love.From the drowned island, the flame still burns.What was taken must be returned.The healer's hands will break the chain,but the price of freedom is all she contains.When the last stone shatters and the Shroud falls,the blue flame will answer the kingdom's call."
Then, silence. Below, Constantine raises his hands like a conqueror claiming victory. He says something, but I don't hear it. I can't hear anything except those words, echoing in my skull.
The healer's hands will break the chain.
But the price of freedom is all she contains.
Sleep won't come. I toss and turn until the sheets are tangled around my legs, then give up and reach for the journal.
The name at the top still makes my stomach clench. Lenora Bromwell. My professor. My mentor. My boss. Another person who lied to me. I keep reading.
My predecessor warned them that the elixir has only ever been used for people on their deathbeds. It was meant to alleviate temporary suffering. Not to be administered to the healthy. They also warned that the mushroom typically used has been contaminated by the curse. Sara's response: "In the end, none of this will matter if we do not act now."
Three gifts necessary: Siphony (specifically landsiphoner), empathy, and serephony Ingredients: Shroud mushroom, water from the Whispering Ponds, dried sap from the commiphora tree Subjects tested: Maidens from the Valley of the Innocent
I stop reading. Maidens from the Valley of the Innocent. Tested. Did they volunteer, or were they taken the way the legion guards were?
Findings: When handled by three gifted individuals, the Shroud mushroom proves more effective than the red-capped variety.
Reversal: We've discovered that lion's mane may reverse the effects. Two years have passed, and the subject given the reversal elixir appears to retain her memories.
Our concern: What happens to the memories once extracted? A simple stone cannot contain them indefinitely. The emotions attached to those memories are even more concerning. Where will they go?
Update: This will be my final entry.
The state of Lunaris is grim. Everything appears fine on the surface. It is not. The society that promises freedom and peace is built on lies.
The memory stones are kept hidden in specific locations beneath Lunaris. The Shroud—which began as nothing more than dark clouds in the forest—has expanded into something far worse. The stones seem to be feeding it. All those suppressed memories. All that pain.
We must put an end to this. I am afraid of what will happen if we're caught. But I am more afraid of what will happen if we don't try.
