Page 91 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

The room was at a standstill. Two figures stood in front of one another. One fuming in anger and the other drowning in fear—pure opaque fear.

“Nia?” Snow called before pulling Nia behind her protectively. She glared at Nesrin. “You.”

Nia suddenly came to consciousness, grabbing onto Snow’s hand and pulling her back. “Don’t…don’t, please. You promised me.”

Nesrin began taking small steps back. “I don’t know what she had told you, but those are lies. We were children and we played games, nothing more.”

Lightning hit overhead and panicked screams broke the air. “Children?” Snow asked, breaking her friend’s grip and approaching Nesrin. “Games?”

“Snow, please,” Nia called out.

Snow let out a wicked laugh. “You might be right, Nes. Cause I’ve played some nice games with your father as well. Find the eyeball, loose the wrist, pull the teeth, break the finger. All sorts.” She backed my counsellor to the wall. “You like my games, huh? Want to play with me, too?”

“You’ve killed my father?” Nesrin cried out.

“No. I haven’t killed him. He just stopped breathing, unfortunately. There is nothing more fascinating than drowning. Nothing more pathetic than seeing someone struggle and beg and thrash for air. And let me tell you, Nes dear, your father was plenty pathetic.” The outside blistered in lightning and Snow’s face crawled with black markings.

Nesrin’s tears poured while she shook with a deep red hatred and fear.

Snow pushed away from her and turned to face her friend. Something she saw on her face made her take a deep breath and spin to Nesrin again, her forehead hitting the councillor in the face and knocking her back a few steps till she collapsed to the ground. “Looking forward to playing more games with you, dear. Cherish the pathetic breath in your lungs while you can.”

The councillor’s face was painted crimson as she sunk further down, shrinking from Snow’s attention.

I went to Nia, resting a hand on her shoulder and pulling her to me so she couldn’t see her sister. “This was entirely my fault, forgive me. I should have known she would be here.”

She shook her head. “It is fine. I’m fine.”

From the way she had blanched and swayed on her feet, I knew those words were lies without even reading her shadows. “Let me accompany you to our healer.”

She shook her head again, “I will return to Olympia.”

“Nia, please.”

“I swear it, Kilian, I will be fine.”

Just as Nia left, Mal chose to show up. His brows rose when he took in the whole room and then grinned when he saw Snow and Nesrin. “Can we do a repeat or a rewind?”

Snow took a seat on the table, and somehow, everyone else followed suit. “I’m in need of a bath, could we speed this thing up?” She eyed the table, frowning the more faces she looked at. “Who are all of you?”

Few stood and introduced themselves, others chose to hang their head low and quiet, not daring to meet her gaze nor letting theirs meet hers—just as I’d ordered it. Each and every one of them had been warned. Perhaps threatened.

I took a seat beside her, putting a hand over her shaking one under the table and she relaxed a little.

“Your Majesty,” a small voice called from the side, a young Sidran priestess bearing the waned moon mark on her forehead. She pointed to Snow’s forehead, offering her a handkerchief. “Blood…blood is dripping on your forehead.”

Snow, to my surprise, took it and wiped the blood away. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

The girl flushed red to the tip of her ears and bowed her head.

Atlas nudged my foot under the table and signalled his head to the girl. “You come from the south of Sidra, yes?” I asked and she nodded. “I am told you had something for us.”

She nodded again and brought something from underneath the table. “I’ve found a letter exchange in our library in Sidra. In one of the letters the Octa Virga was mentioned. Very loosely but mentioned. They date from two hundred years ago.” She pushed toward us a bunch of scraps reading in Darsan and Borsich. She cleared her throat and nervously fiddled with her sleeve as Snow and I flipped through the faded papers. “It was mentioned in relation to an…Ybris.”

Our attention rose to her. Snow as usual remained unimpressed.

“Which Ybris?” Larg asked, pulling the letters to him.

“None worth noting,” she said and then pointed to a specific letter. “It was a study on them. In general. He stated in some of his remaining journals something called an Arx Triad. An old method that Crafters used to protect their covens. Veil, animal, Ybris. It is old and cruel,” the young priestess said, fiddling with her oversized sleeves and casting a small glance at Snow before continuing. “I believe the elder Crafters who hid the sceptres used the Arx Triad method. Veiled the location, left an animal to guard and tasked an Ybris to protect it. He had to have known about the sceptres. Probably very well considering he had information on how they were concealed.”