Page 192 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

“Such as Points of Constellation, there are places on Ambrisk that hold significant magic.”

“Like the Mystique Mountains?” Myrella asked.

Valyrie observed her, ether around her wings stirring rapidly. “Not exactly. The magic in the mountains is what powers all the realms in existence. That is pure ether whereas these are unique to the Fates. The isles are rife with them.”

“Fatetouched land,” Emmeline breathed. Perry was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Not all Fatetouched land is potent enough to be a Point of Constellation,” Valyrie clarified, “but the earth on the isles is steeped with the dust of the stars, touched by the Fates. Many secrets and myths lurk there.”

Roremar glanced at the map, at the seven smaller land masses that had been wiped from modern memory because of this power. At his home, a land infused with magic.

“And my ring…”

“I believe the steel was forged with a substance mined and pressed from this Fatetouched land.”

“Why is that bad?” Emmeline asked, clutching his ring around her neck.

“Because it—the coating on this ring—is a defense against Fately magic. Truly, it is impressive that a mortal would be able to uncover and fabricate it. Your father was a very smart man, and he clearly loved you deeply, Roremar Silventa.”

A lump formed in his throat.

His father went to lengths to provide this defense, to keep Roremar safe because he knew how much his Fate tie scared him when he was little, and Roremar had killed him. His chest pulled tight, gaze locking with Lola’s—their father’s eyes filled with mourning.

She nodded at Roremar in encouragement. A nod that reminded him she didn’t blame him, no matter how much he blamed himself.

Roremar cleared his throat. “My father gave me a ring that guarded against Fate magic. I still don’t understand how that’s bad.”

“The composition of this ring was blocking Dryvius’s hold on you,” Valyrie said.

“But Dryvius still controlled him,” Lola argued. Her bottom lip trembled as if she was holding in all her emotions. Desmond placed a hand on her shoulder, and Lola leaned closer.

“And I avoided reading at all costs, but I was still able to,” Roremar added.

“Perhaps I should not use block so much as contain,” Valyrie clarified, immune to the emotions Roremar and Lola were battling. “Starsearchers believe we exist in three parts. The body, the spirit, and the fate. When Dryvius was killed—or so everyone thought he was—his body was slain, spirit gone to the Spirit Realm as all do, but his fate was not. That is what Serchus was the key to.”

Emmeline gasped, putting the pieces together as Roremar did.

Thousands of years ago, Serchus made himself a key to Dryvius’s death, but only his body was killed. His fate remained, became tied to Roremar, and with this ring, Deacon Silventa had tried to guard his son, but instead⁠—

“He trapped him,” Roremar breathed.

Valyrie confirmed, “Because of Serchus, Dryvius did not have his own body, and because of this ring, he could not break free of yours.”

“So, if I wore this ring, he was…stuck in my mind?”

And his uncle was looking for the material responsible for that? What did Aldryn Falliare know? Roremar’s thoughts spun.

“Correct. If you took off the ring, Dryvius still wouldn’t have a fully corporeal form, but he would be able to move independently. Like a shadow.”

“A shadow,” Emmeline gasped, hand going to her throat. “I never saw whoever attacked me in my dormitory.”

“Because Dryvius doesn’t have a body,” Roremar completed.

“Did you ever take that ring off, Rore?” Desmond asked.

Roremar dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, maybe. I do sometimes, rarely.”

It had been Dryvius himself who’d written on Emmeline’s wall.