Page 121 of The Edge of Darkness

If control were a leash, the tethers had frayed in that dungeon cell, so much so, that it felt like there were only a few strands holding me together. I was doing a good job at hiding it, but I didn’t want to live my life hiding. And the more I fought it, the more the power seemed to bite back with a vengeance.

Something had to give.

I glanced up, taking in the sight of the rain around me, the puddles that were building beneath the tree roots, the leaves that shook under the weight of each drop—each tear that fell from above.

Perhaps it wasn’t the sky that was crying, as Eathril had said.

Perhaps it was the gods.

I slung the stray strands of wet hair back from my face as I strode across the patio of The Keep. The rain was no longer falling. The sky, or the gods within it, had spent their tears—for now. The hem of my cloak hung heavy, saturated with water, but I didn’t let it bother me. I tucked myself under a glamour, and entered The Keep, heading straight for the fireplace hearth at the other end of the grand room.

A few house-fae passed by, oblivious to my presence.

My mother’s glamouring ability was something I was truly thankful for, especially in times like these. Times where I needed a break from everyone and everything around me so that I could get a grip on this new reality.

I unhooked my cloak and tossed it over the arm of a leather chair closest to the roaring fire, then sank into the chair adjacent to it, one with an unobstructed view of the flames. As my body slouched into the leather, I scrubbed a hand through my beard, which I’d grown out and kept because Auren liked it.

I let out a sigh and forced my jaw to unclench.

Amarna, I called out in my mind.

Good morning, My Lord, the Elder’s pleasant voice responded. What is it you need?

The Seidr, I said. Could you bring it to The Keep, please? Leave it on the table in front of the main fireplace.

At once.

A few seconds later, she manifested before me and gently placed the book on the table. Her eyes flicked up, searching the nearby space, ghosting right over where I was seated. She did not sense me—no one would. Not even an Elder. Not with my glamour. When she noted my cloak on the chair beside her, she grinned to herself and dipped her chin, knowing I was near and remaining unseen for my own reasons. Without a word, she folded her hands and disappeared.

I sat for a moment, staring at the ancient, leather-bound book. The flame’s reflection flickered across the black cover that had been worn smooth from time spent in many hands. Inside was the realm’s history, the workings of Old Magic, the hierarchy of the gods and all their glory—things I thought I was well-versed in before. After speaking to Sahren and Eathril, I was starting to feel like I knew nothing of what the gods were truly capable of.

Finally, I sat up, and grabbed the book, pulling it inside my glamour so that no one would see it. I dipped into my hidden pocket in space and retrieved Evander’s journal as well. Side by side, they sat in my lap, each of them silently begging for my attention.

I wasn’t sure what I would find in the Seidr that would help me understand any of this, but it was worth a try. Not only was I seeking answers for myself, but I’d also been thinking of how to solve Aremis’s Aether dilemma. Somehow, these two books held a missing link to what I was trying to piece together. I could feel it.

I began gently flipping through the pages, skimming over sections about the gods. Detailed sketches of the talismans were depicted, along with the deities that wielded them. I frowned when seeing the rendering of Lyceius’s likeness with the golden band adorning his forehead.

The next page told of how to imbue objects with power, and the following began a new chapter concerning a topic I was particularly interested in: the Alatyrs. The ancient stones had originally crossed my mind when I’d considered how we were going to help Aremis rid himself of the Aether. Particularly, the fact that they provided protection for the ones who wore them.

That was what I had been thinking about back in the wraith’s cave. Ramil had worn Afsin’s Alatyr, and it had kept him youthful—sustaining him, just as it had for the Elder. If Aremis were to wear an Alatyr while unbinding the Aether, perhaps it would be enough to protect his essence, and allow him to remain unharmed and unchanged in the process. And if he released the entity in the middle of the battlefield, it could serve as an additional means to wipe out a vast majority of Lyceius’s army at the same time, alongside my shadowfire.

But something else had struck me, something the wraith had said. The Aether had been bound to its original host with dark magic, and spells of that nature could only be undone by either a very powerful witch, or the witch goddess herself. The Alatyr might serve as a way to protect Aremis, but he would still need a higher power to break the bond.

That conundrum would have to be tabled for later.

I thumbed through a few more chapters, then, as I went to close the book, a few lines of text on the inside of the back cover caught my eye. A piece of soft parchment made with thicker fibers than the rest of the book had been glued to the leather. Upon it, written in a rather elegant script, was the prophecy.

With the coming of the dawn,

the fate of all to the fate of one.

A flame of light, a flame of dark,

a golden shroud brought from a spark.

A piece is lost, and then its worn,

stars and ash bring forth the storm.