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Vallon did not answer my question but asked one of his own. “What is it you are seeking in our lands, Mizrah?”
“Words,” I told him. If he could be stoic and curt, so could I. I added, “Fortunately, I know exactly where to find them. The prophecy outlining where to find the third god-touched text I am seeking was specific enough that we are sure it’s at or near Solzkin’s Heart.”
He kept his quiet examination for another moment, then said, “Then let us proceed. It is right through that grove of trees.”
He walked ahead of us, which I found interesting that he trusted Goll and his warriors enough to leave them at his back. Or perhaps, he simply didn’t see them as a threat, or he trusted Morgolith.
“He isn’t friendly,” I whispered up to Goll.
His mouth tipped up as he whispered back, “None of them are.”
We followed the priest through a thin copse of thick-trunked oaks where orange leaves blanketed the ground. It wasn’t even a woodland so much as a scattering of trees, like sentries on watch for Solzkin’s Heart. I was excited to finally see it, a revered place to the shadow fae according to what Hava had told me one night on our journey. Apparently, the shadow fae held religious rituals there certain times of the year.
A giant boulder rose out of the ground into a triangular point, jutting upward like it was reaching for the sky. It was an odd-shaped stone twice as tall as the old oaks that surrounded it in sporadic display. It didn’t seem to belong here as the stone was a darker shade than that of the foothill outcroppings of the Solgavia Mountains.Perhaps Solzkin himself had lifted it from somewhere else in the world and placed it here as an altar for the shadow fae, his devoted followers.
We were much closer to the vast mountain range where the shadow fae made their home, and we’d passed cliffs and caves as Drakmir had descended closer to the meeting point. Drak had taken back to the skies with an aggravated huff at the winged shadow fae in our presence.
A coiling burn began in my chest the closer we stepped toward the stone. Gods magick was present, radiating in tingling waves from the center point—Solzkin’s Heart. Green lichen and vines grew along the sides of it, but the dark stone still showed through.
“I believe what you’re looking for is on this side.”Vallon stepped toward the center of the clearing where the stone faced south.
I wondered what riddle the Goddess Elska would show me now, or what form of text I might have to swallow. I shivered at the thought of words written in lichen where Vallon now stood looking up at the other side of the stone. Would I have to ingest mold of some kind? I pressed my palm to my belly, concernedfor my babe and what effect the magick might have on him or her.
When I rounded to the far side, completely clear of vines and lichen, I wasn’t prepared for what I found. Demon runes were chiseled into the stone, the same essence of the other god-touched texts emanating in waves of otherworldly energy. It prickled along my skin.
I stared up, dumbfounded and frustrated, then I turned to Goll. “How am I to swallow a boulder?”
The very stern shadow fae in our presence took a step forward, his expression finally having some emotion that resembled annoyance. “Mizrah, I am not certain what this quest of yours is about, but you cannot swallow Solzkin’s Heart. It is sacred to my people.”
I huffed out a breath, refraining from rolling my eyes. “I am well aware it’s physically impossible. But I am sure this is where the Goddess Elska has been guiding me, and those are the words that I need.” I looked around, wondering if perhaps I was wrong and there might be some other inscription or something else nearby. “I don’t understand,” I whispered more to myself.
Vallon’s expression deepened into a scowl before he finally said, “As you said, it is impossible.”
The thought of my people, my father, my brother suffering from the plague, dying even now, twisted my insides. Despair was beginning to sweep through me, for how could I have made it through the first two, only to have gotten to the third and not be able to accomplish the task? Why would the gods lead me here if only to be defeated now?
Goll had pressed a comforting hand to the small of my back, his deep, steady voice finally breaking the silence. “She doesn’t need to swallow the stone. She only needs the words.”
The way he spoke made me look at him in question. He was glaring at Vallon in a way that told me there was something I was missing.
Morgolith took a step closer to Vallon. “That is right. She only needs the words.” Morgolith looked up at the stone, which had me then looking up at the engravings surrounded by thick branches of ivy but left uncovered. “Could he help us?”
Vallon’s expression darkened further. “I do not see the possibility of him leaving Gadlizel to help a moon fae princess in her errand for the Goddess of the Wood,” he spat rather cynically.
Morgolith said urgently, “Look ather. She isn’t simply a moon fae.” He gestured to my wings, the touch of darkness I wore. “She is more than that.”
“Who could help us?” I asked.
Vallon’s red-eyed gaze traveled back to me and to my wings. He did not answer. It was Morgolith who did.
“Prince Torvyn of Gadlizel has special abilities.”
Vallon hissed at Morgolith, but I added quickly. “He can remove the words somehow?”
Vallon stared back at the stone, his irritated glare more prominent. “Again, it is not of our concern. What happens to the light fae is not of our concern.” He said it with conviction, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes that resembled guilt.
A cracking sound from the stone made me jump. Then Goll had his arms around me, lifting me several feet back, all of us braced and staring at the sound coming from the stone.
But it wasn’t the stone itself that was cracking. A vine as thick as my thigh that had climbed up the side of the inscribed words was lifting away from the surface of the stone.
