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“And you determined to act on them all alone?” asked Goll. His voice wasn’t accusing but more concerned at what I’d done as a girl of seventeen.
“I tried to get Baelynn to understand. I’d even told my father, but neither would listen. At the time, Father was concerned about the Borderlands and the increasing dark fae in the region.”
I needn’t explain more because it was, apparently, the beginnings of war. All it took was my own capture and torture here in Näkt Mir to put that officially into motion.
“You spoke of Vayla,” I added. “Was this the same Vaylamorganalyn? Did you know her?”
Keffa remained rigid, staring into the fire. It was Bozlyn, the older wraith fae who said, “She came here to Silvantis when she was exiled from Issos. She told King Xakiel that she was god-touched with powerful magick of prophecy, a world-seer and a god-seer in one. She said she must use the gift or be damned by the gods. And the gods had sent her to Xakiel.”
“So she served your father?” I asked Goll.
“She did,” he told me. “She was welcomed because of her exceptional scrying abilities. And for many years she was considered the greatest oracle we’ve ever had in Silvantis.”
“What happened?” I asked gently.
Keffa finally turned from the fire, his face a hard mask. “She had a vision that the Demon King didn’t like. She told King Xakiel that one day his son and heir would usurp his throne, and he would die by his son’s sword.”
“Heavens,” I muttered, trying to absorb the realization that the same oracle who prophesied the plague and downfall of our people also foresaw Goll’s rise. I looked at him, cut in shadow against the firelight. “Then you were put into prison.”
“I was. So was she.”
“Fucking tyrant,” growled Keffa, turning back to the mantel and bracing both hands on the white marble, his black claws out.
A new dawning bloomed in my chest, pulling me to my feet. My breathing quickened as I stared into the fire, remembering.
Drip. Drip. Drip. “Sorka lillet.”
“She was there,” I whispered. “She was there in the dungeon with me.”
Tears sprang to my eyes and spilled down my cheeks so suddenly I gasped. It hit me like a lightning bolt.
A frenzied panic gripped me as I remembered the hag. Her quiet whisper in the dark, her bloody fingers on my forehead, her magick seeping into my flesh, her sweet spirit slipping into the afterworld.
Keffa took a step toward me, his brow furrowing deeper, tightening the scar that ran down from his missing eye. “You saw her? Spoke to her?”
I couldn’t answer, tears now slipping freely down my face.
When Keffa took another step toward me, Goll stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Can you all step outside a moment?”
I sat back down, staring at my hands, my fingers shaking as I picked at the fringe of ivy embroidery along my overskirt hem. I vaguely recognized that everyone left, the door shuttingquietly behind them. Then Goll was on his knees in front of me, wrapping his large, warm hands around mine.
“Breathe, Una. Deep breath in. And out.”
I hadn’t realized I was breathing so quickly, near hysterical from the sensory memory flooding my mind so fast.
“I thought she was simply an old hag. A poor Issosian who’d been caught like I was, tossed in the dungeon to rot.” I sucked in a breath after a sob. “She was so kind to me.” I met Goll’s concerned expression. “She tried to heal me, I believe. Gave me the very last of her magick on her dying breath.”
His concern transformed to an earnestness as he asked, “Did she trace runes on your forehead?”
“I didn’t know what she was doing at the time. When the healer came to my bedside in Issos, there were traces of rune sign, but none of it recognizable. The healer had asked me about it, but I didn’t answer. I was in shock. Then later, I didn’t care to share my experience with anyone.”
“When I carried you into Esher Wood”—he reached up and swiped my cheeks with his thumbs—“I saw the bloody marks, but I thought my father’s jailers had done that to you. Some sort of curse.”
“No.” I shook my head. “It was her. Vayla. I thought she had gone mad. She said something to me in demon tongue, which I didn’t know. But then she said it to me in the common tongue right before she died.”
“Do you remember what she said?”
“I’ll never forget it.” I held his gaze as I recalled and recited exactly what Vaylamorganalyn had whispered in the dark before she died. “You are the destiny. You are the dark lady.” I paused, licking my lips. “You are for him.”
