Page 22 of The Scepter

I'm sure she had been preparing for this day my entire life. I have to swallow around the lump in my throat before I can get to work.

From the pack, I take out a small ceremonial dagger, digging through the clothes to reach it at the very bottom. The hand-carved hilt is warm to the touch as I lift it up and murmur the spell my mother had written.

Then I carve the sigil into the rock of the dwelling of the Seer, guided by my mother and adding my own magic, watching in awe as the stone accepts the magic and adds it to its cache. The side of the mountain starts glowing around us as my magic sings out to the other thousands of markings spanning hundreds of thousands of years, all lighting up until the walls around us illuminate with power.

The fae might not love this Seer anymore, but the witches do, and our love story to her and her gift is written on these walls.

A sight to behold.

“Rookesbane Eveningstar. I’ve been waiting for you.”

At the sound of my full name, I startle away from the glowing rock walls, my head snapping toward the voice that has echoed to me, and find an ancient-looking woman standing amongst the sigils. Her hair is white and her skin is paper-thin, covered entirely with white witch markings that show her high rank within the kingdom. Her eyes are silver, but there’s a white glow to them as the Fates speak through her, the magic lighting them up.

Pemba drops his head, tucking his chin into his chest in absolute respect, but I’m too shocked at the sight of her to remember my manners.

“Never mind about that, child. Come, let us talk about your fate. It has been keeping me awake for a lifetime. I’ll be relieved to pass it on to you finally.”

With a gulp, I follow her.

***

I wait for Pemba, sitting on the steps outside of the Seer’s dwelling.

I look out over the mountains and at the forest that grows on one side of them, the forest I grew up in and love. The sun is getting low in the sky, casting a glow over the trees and making an ethereal and perfect scene.

It’s the last time I will look over this forest.

I’m glad I’m seeing it in all its glory like this.

There’s a blackened spot where our village once stood, a small mar in an otherwise perfect green blanket. I’m no longer terrified by that sight, the indecision gone now that I know where I’m going next.

I hear my brother’s footsteps behind me, slow and steady as he makes his way to me. When I don’t immediately scramble to my feet to meet him, Pemba drops down and sits beside me on the step.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I murmur, and he nods, then waits for me to speak. I sense his uncertainty about why I’m staring out like this.

“What was your fate, Rooke?”

I willnevertell my brother my fate.

“I’m leaving the Southern Lands. I’m going down to the docklands and getting on a ship, sailing over to join the Northern king’s army in the Fate Wars,” I say, as though it’s so easy and not at all terrifying.

Pemba’s eyebrows rise but when he sees the calm surety in my eyes he nods, a frown falling over his brow, I’m sure at how dangerous that will be for me. He was prepared for my fate, more prepared than I was for sure, and it’s not until he speaks again that I realize how much of a relief that truly is to me.

“Then that’s what we’re doing. We’ll take the horse and cart down there and… figure out a way onto one of the boats.”

I shake my head, tears springing into my eyes. “You can’t, Pemba. You can’t leave the forest behind just for me.”

He chuckles and slings an arm over my shoulders, pulling me into a half-hug. “My fate is to follow you, to walk with you on your path and keep you company while you achieve greatness. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

My heart cracks into two.

I don’t want him to follow me, to find out what I’m really doing. I can’t stand the thought of what he would say if he found out what my fate really is, but the Fates have made that decision for me.

I don’t want him to find out that I’m running from the man I’m fated to love and a future so terrifying that I’d rather die in a foreign land in a war that isn’t my own. I’ve already shut my mind off to Donn, determined to never hear his honeyed words ever again. The web of comfort and security he promised is a lie he wove to snare me.

Rookesbane Eveningstar, the untried Mother of the Ravenswyrd Coven, is dead. Someone else is here in her stead, and I won’t be afraid anymore.