Page 170 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

But to what end?

I let my arm fall.

My problems can’t be solved with a history lesson.

As fascinating as how Calla’s choices shaped the fate of the Fae are, none of it matters.

Not unless one of these books contains a chapter on how a part Light Fae can master her power enough to destroy a mysterious curse conjured by the Shadow King.

I drift deeper into the library, half-focused eyes skimming each title. Nothing catches my attention. Not until I reach the back wall.

Between tall windows overlooking the crashing sea, four large, detailed maps hang side by side in thick, dark wooden frames. The parchment is painted in vibrant hues of blue and green, streaked with brown roads and gray dwellings. Elegant calligraphy names bodies of water, regions, towns—most of them unfamiliar.

One map depicts Virendrell, a lone landmass encircled by ocean. Tiny ships scatter across white-capped waves, and a bulging-eyed creature breaches the surface. A Pelagor, no doubt.

Another map features land dominated by gray, rocky mountains. Swaths of green encircle the base of each mountain, marked with more unfamiliar names. Anders’s homeland, perhaps?

Each map is a work of art, meticulously drawn and adorned. But it’s the final one that catches and holds my attention.

My fingertips tingle with the desire to trace the name scrawled across the bottom in bold lettering.

Astloria.

For the first time in my life, I stare at a completed map of my home continent. Familiar names stand out. Verdanthia. Cardovia. Hammond. Even Port City is marked on the southeastern edge.

But up north, beyond the latitudinal line that marks the separation between the human lands and the Fae Realm, there are…words. Towns. Cities. Mountains. Lakes.

I drink in each one.

Berylla.

Iliaque.

Nurenelle.

My mind pronounces each one flawlessly, trained by the magic in Jaxon’s tonic.

The land beyond the Veil has always been taboo—a dangerous mystery no human ever wanted to explore.

Because the moment you cross the Veil, you are a possession of the Shadow Fae.

And the horror stories of what those abducted humans endure kept twelve-year-old me awake at night for the better part of two months.

But now, as Myrissie allows this knowledge to seep into my mind, as I take in the rolling hills and sprawling cities, the wide rivers and dense forests, the Fae Realm looks…ordinary.

The familiar dread that usually coils in my stomach at the thought of my oppressors’ homeland is notably absent.

I trace the painted roads with my eyes, following them from city to city, town to town. The vowel-heavy names tumble through my thoughts.

Which one is Rian from?

There’s no mark for a capital. No symbol for a royal residence.

“The world beyond the Veil,” a feminine voice says.

I startle and spin, relaxing when I recognize the woman.

“Hali,” I exhale. “You scared me.”