Page 8 of Born of Starlight
My body relaxed only after the creatures had long disappeared into the thick of the woods. Van could take on dozens of Lynx. I could let him out now, but to risk even one of them carrying a vision of me or Van back to its master wasn’t worth it.
There was no desire in my heart for a reunion.
* * *
Still reelingfrom the encounter with the Lynx, I returned to my cabin. In moments like these, I wished there was a way to contact Amara. She would doubtlessly tell me I was overthinking their significance.
Maybe they got free of their own will. Lynx are fickle creatures,she would say.
And I would answer, “Or maybe I’ll finally get a sword through my heart as I deserved.”
I’d spoken the words out loud.
Conversations with yourself. Great, Fen—you’ve truly lost it.
I reached the cabin porch and kicked off my boots before placing a hand on the doorknob.
“She’s coming…”
The whisper hit the back of my neck like a cool breeze. Gooseflesh rose on my skin.
I spun around on the rickety steps with my bow raised. That voice—where had it come from? Realizing I was alone, as always, my bow lowered.No one.
It flooded back in a flurry of frantic memories—being in that clearing two centuries ago, looking up to see stars fall.“Find her.”
That voice was impossible to forget.
She’s coming.
For fuck’s sake, who was the“she”it referred to?The Lynx sighting and the dull burning in the ink on my arm where Vangard rested made me question if I even wanted to know. A bad omen, I was sure of it.
“Come on out, Van.”
A familiar gust and kicking up of dust greeted me as Van’s hulking canine body filled the porch, tail wagging softly, awaiting my command. It was too coincidental, and something told me that voice and the Lynx sighting were connected. There was only one way to find out.
“I need you to track those Lynx. And you must remain unseen.”
Chapter4
Asterie
My mind pressed against an invisible barrier. No matter how hard I strained against it, no paths formed, no images revealed themselves and not even a whisper graced my ears. Unable to maintain the effort, I gasped. My heartbeat elevated and the room spun.How long had I been at the orb?
My reflection in the large moonstone sphere greeted me when my mind returned to my body. Instead of the milk-white coating that usually overtook my eyes while conjuring, my irises were ominous, inky pools of swirling black rimmed by an eerie iridescence. Dark hair had loosened from my braid and stuck to my forehead, which was wrinkled with exhaustion.
My eyes continued to regain focus against the dim candlelight dancing across my tower’s foyer.
Ten…nine…eight…
My mind was exhausted from trying to conjure any path that might lead away from the night terrors that had plagued my dreams for weeks. The dreams were too vivid, too clear. Too real. Since Firose had revealed the dying North King shared my visions, peaceful sleep had not found me.
Without a clear prophecy, it would be near impossible to find any path that might lead away from the destruction of the realm.If that’s even what I was seeing.Yet I continued to try.
Show me the prophecy my night terrors foretell of. Show me a path to prevent them.
Darkness crept through the windows in the atrium, telling me it was not yet morning. Hundreds of candles lit the foyer and highlighted pointed arched iron windows as shadows ebbed across the dreary room. The flame’s jovial flickering mocked me, licking toward me instead of the ceiling as they should.
How could an Oracle protect the realm if they couldn’t even effectively command a moonstone?It should be easy for me to conjure a prophecy—like heating a kettle or lighting a match.Why was this one so difficult to find?
