“He offered, but there’s so much to do before the enemy reaches the bridge.” I cocked my head, motioning toward the flooded courtyard behind me. “Where are the Crones?”
“I managed to calm them down when it started storming.” He winced. “In truth, it wasn’t me. When the skies opened up to drop their deluge, the Crones went quiet and mysterious. It’s like they sensed something was happening. After that, it was easy to herd them back into their tower room. I was going to come join the rest of you, but then the Crones told me you were coming. I thought I’d wait and see if they were right.”
“I think there’s more going inside their minds than anyone ever realized. Including Oberon, I’d bet.”
“Is that why you came to see them?” he asked.
“There’s a prophecy. Until now, all we’ve had is bits and pieces of it. Something tells me they know the full thing.” I indicated toward the stairwell. “Want to join me?”
He climbed to his feet. “Oh, absolutely. This might be one of the most exciting moments of my life.”
I couldn’t help but laugh as I started up the stairs. He fell into step beside me.
“I assumed you’d had a lot of exciting moments, being part of the Mist Guard,” I said.
“At times,” he said with a shrug. “But even though I’m a decent fighter, it’s not my true calling. I enjoy espionage. I enjoy mystery. And I very much enjoyinformation.” He rubbed his palms together. “If we’re about to find out the secrets of some ancient prophecy that could quite literally save the world? There’s nothing better than this, Tessa Baran.”
My booted footsteps echoed down the stairwell. “I hope I don’t disappoint you.” And as we continued to climb, I couldn’t help but ask, “Why did you join Kalen, anyway? I know, like Fenella, you’re a light fae, and you lived in Endir until he…”
“He attacked us?” Gaven chuckled. “Yes, the dreaded ‘Mist King’ invaded Endir during his war against Oberon. Thing is, I hated Oberon. I spied for him for a time, and so I saw what he was like behind closed doors. Didn’t care much for how he treated his servants.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised. “I heard he was fairly decent before the whole Andromeda thing.”
“Decent? To whom? Bellicent Denare? Certainly. He was in love with her.” Torchlight illuminated the ponderous expression on his face as we climbed. “I wouldn’t say he was a terrible king, per se. Just that he was a typical king. And typical kings are neverkind. They care more for themselves and their riches than anyone else. Unless your name is Kalen Denare.”
“So you followed Kalen because he doesn’t care for riches,” I said with a smile. “Not the most exciting reason, I have to admit.”
“True.” Gaven shrugged. “I’m not like Toryn or Alastair, who feel they owe him their lives. I merely want to support someone who’s trying to do the right thing for his people. Ah, here we are.” Excitedly, he stopped outside the door as we crested the final steps.
I reached for the handle, but the door swung inward on its own. Hinges creaked ominously. I cast him a nervous glance and stepped inside. A wintry wind swept across me, freezing my bones. The Crones all huddled together on a single bed. Their heads were ducked together, and they were whispering furiously amongst themselves.
I cleared my throat, recalling the names that had been imprinted on my mind since I was old enough to hear them. “Elise? Layla? Mala?”
The Crones stilled and twisted toward me. Their eyes were sunken and hollow once more. Milky white consumed their pupils.
I swallowed, then whispered to Gaven. “Is this what they looked like when they told you I was coming?”
“No.” He shifted on his feet. The excited expression was gone. “No, this is new.”
Suddenly, they sprang to their feet and started chanting.
The darkness cries for the light
And comes undone beneath the sky
An old wind blows
With ancient woes
But light will never die
I took a step back as they came for me, their arms outstretched. Heartbeat thundering, I glanced at the door. Maybe it had been a mistake to come here. These women were confused, that was all. Bellicent had always believed in a prophecy, and her ideas must have infected these women. And now, that was all they had. Hazy memories they didn’t quite understand.
“Daughter of Stars,” one whispered.
“Daughter of Dust,” another said.
They came to a stop before me, and the third one said, “Of Gods and Men. Your light will never die!”
