But fate has challenged me to choose a different path now. The way out will smear my hands with blood. The way forward could kill me. But I know which path I’ll choose.
Settling my resolve, I take a final breath, filling my chest with the scent of fire and ice. One last breath of freedom.
Then, I take a step away from the carpentry wall and position myself in front of my father’s body.
I fight a moment of chilling fear as I prepare to sweep a lifetime of hiding into the past.
Lifting my voice, I scream as loudly as I can. “I’m here! I’m the one you want.”
I have no guarantee the highborn will hear me, and if they don’t arrive soon, I may have to walk right through the flames. Whatever it takes to get their attention.
Drawing another deep breath, I try again, roaring as loudly as I can, “I am the Oracle.Come and get me!”
I don’t need to shout again.
Three figures creep toward me through the smoke on my left. It must be the three Frost Fae, judging by the gleaming whiteness of their hair and the silvery flashes of their damaged armor through the haze.
A moment later, three giant eagles sweep across the air overhead and land on nearby rooftops, causing the Frost Fae to flinch and pause.
The eagles’ riders, including the female rider I saw earlier, leap from their backs, land lithely on the nearest pathway, and prowl toward me, their figures no clearer in the haze than the Frost Fae.
A heartbeat behind the eagles fly three golden serpents, soaring to the back of the workshop, landing in the open space on the other side of it, each of their riders quickly becoming visible again as they hurry toward me on my right, blocking my escape once and for all.
The highborn fae come at me from all three sides: the Frosts from my left, the Irons nearly directly ahead, and the Embers from my right.
I lift my arms away from my body. I can’t put down the Dragonstone Blade, so I’m effectively, unwillingly armed, but at least I can hold it out from my body, indicating that I don’t intend to use it.
As I move, the barest glint of goldenlight flashes across my palm, making me freeze. An unwanted thread of magic shoots up my arm, filling my heart with terror.
No, no, no.Not another vision from the blade.Not now!—
This time, my mind fills with a cold, silent darkness.
I might be standing, but I can’t be sure. I can’t even be certain I’m breathing, although the taste of dust fills my mouth. It’s ashy, scorched, but not like burning iron, not like flames or even the cold searing of ice.
This scent reeks of decay.
A voice whispers through the darkness.
The three kings seek your destruction, but they crave the Dragonstone Blade even more desperately. You will use it against them.
I can’t tell if my eyes have widened. I can’t control my body at all. I try to speak, but I’m voiceless, a powerlessness I fight against with every fiber of my being.
The more I struggle to move, the harsher the whispering voice becomes.
Summon the kings, it hisses.Force them to earn what they desire. If they desire power, make them earn it. If they desire subjugation, make them earn it. If they wish to dominate you, make them earn it.
You will fight them. Rip and tear at their hearts.
You must destroy them before they can destroy you.
A scream builds within my chest as I struggle against the weight of darkness bearing down on me.
Destroy them, comes the command, and in the next moment, the shadows lift?—
I return to myself, my heart in my throat, fearful that the highborn fae might have seized me while my mind was elsewhere, but it seems the vision only lasted a few seconds, because the fae prowling toward me haven’t progressed further than another few steps.
A cold terror settles at the base of my spine, more acute than the fear of being captured.
