Page 12 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

“What is that?” Emmeline asked.

It wasn’t Metrina that answered.

That is what waits, a calming voice rumbled. The kind that lured you to its depths yet soothed you as you sank.

“Polyr?” Emmeline spun in circles.

The Fate of Eddies and Lost Luck formed in the same obscure starry shape as always.

Emmeline knew the Fates much better than she ever cared to admit. They were ingrained in her spirit, her bones and magic built of them. Each left a unique imprint on her mind.

Metrina delivered twisted fortunes after her own loss had warped her mind many years ago, and they were always streaked with giddy, troubling turns of her words. But Polyr…the Fate of Eddies and Lost Luck always left behind a sense of hope.

Emmeline clung to it, drinking the promise off the tips of his next words. Misfortune may have graced you, but the tides have not ceased carrying your future yet, my child. Stay the course, and we will reveal more as time permits. Stay the course, Emmeline DeLeoste, despite the bloodshed and hardship that awaits, and the Reign will begin true.

“But—wait! What is the fortune? And what is the course?”

Her questions drowned in the rush of lilac ether. The violet sun flared in the distance, its light blinding.

The wind reached a deafening crescendo and more feathers rained down.

Emmeline’s eyes watered, starfire igniting at the edges of her vision.

It burned—her skin, her irises. Her blood. Every part of her burned.

White flames engulfed the scene and pressure weighed on her head and palms, pulling her back.

“No!” Emmeline shouted.

The feathers at her feet became ashes and silver blood dripped from the clouds, melting in that shining purple light.

Somewhere, glass shattered. Laughter rang on the melodious wind. A laugh she swore she knew.

A fortune spun by Fated hands,

A choice taken from forsaken bands.

Two hearts staked through with malice⁠—

She was ripped from the reading.

Agony tore through her, and that laughter followed.

Gasping, Emmeline shot upright.

She blinked, taking a moment to adjust to the cool dark of night after the blinding light. To the damp air hanging from the clouds, waiting to fall. Lifting her palms, she found them so embedded with tiny pebbles, she was bleeding.

As she picked them out one by one, she went over everything the Fates had said to her. Aside from the somewhat helpful hint about where to look for information on her sister, it was vague nonsense, as it so often appeared, but everything in the stars always had a meaning. She jotted it all down in her notebook now.

Then, pushing to her feet, Emmeline slung her satchel over her shoulder, the vials within clinking, and crept to the edge of the roof, partially hidden behind a hedge of dying ivy.

Do not overlook that which lies beneath your feet, the history written in the walls around you, Metrina had said.

Many of the buildings in Valyn may lack the antiquity of the isles, but that didn’t mean its districts didn’t house secrets. She looked at the city differently from this vantage point, the homages to each Fate hiding out there. It was a puzzle she had to construct, every street and plaza holding pieces. Secret history of the temple trades. Clues of Dryvius’s motives, maybe.

She only had to unravel them.

Seek the riches of nine, and you shall unveil truths.