Page 185 of The Reckoning of Starlight

The earth pulsed in Serenna’s awareness.

Moss thickened around Ayla as Jassyn drew life through the stone. Roots climbed her legs, fresh leaves unfurling green and vivid until brown crept across their edges. They withered and crumbled as new shoots broke through the dying growth, replacing them faster than the foliage could fall away.

Jassyn leaned back on his heels, hands dropping to his thighs. The crimson light dimmed from his fingers, while the vines spent themselves on a body that consumed every scrap of life. He finally lifted his head and met Serenna’s gaze, then nodded toward the doorway and rose.

Ayla’s eyes never opened. She might’ve been sleeping, but at the scrape of Jassyn’s boots, she adjusted Sharyne against her chest without looking.

Lykor moved just enough to let Jassyn pass, and Serenna followed him out of the chamber.

Jassyn dragged a hand through his curls. “Her body is still accelerating. Whatever the king did to speed the pregnancy didn’t end with the birth.”

Serenna glanced toward the chamber. “And Sharyne?”

“Her growth is normal as far as I can assess.”

Serenna uncurled her fingers at her sides, only then realizing she’d made fists. “There’s nothing you can do.”

He shook his head.

“Thalaesyn and your magus could study whatever the king changed in her,” Serenna said. If Ayla died, everything she still knew about Galaeryn went with her. “They might find a way to undo it.”

“Thalaesyn’s already been here.” Jassyn tugged at a bracer, tightening a strap across his wrist that didn’t need it. “It’s magic we’ve never encountered. We’d need weeks to understand what Galaeryn altered, let alone reverse it.”

A sound carried from inside the chamber. Laughter.

Or what remained of it, the rasp echoing against the stone.

“You don’t even have days,” Ayla called through the archway.

Jassyn’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and Serenna stepped back around Lykor with Jassyn trailing behind.

Ayla’s eyes were open now, sunk in bruised hollows, the whites dulled and webbed with red. Her face had wasted around them, yet the same glacial calculation Serenna remembered remained, already three moves ahead of everyone else and waiting for them to notice the board.

Ayla waved a skeletal hand around the sparse chamber. “Make yourself comfortable, sister.”

Serenna halted a few paces in.

“I have something you need,” Ayla said. Her voice wavered around the edges, but the venom held. “Information your little rebellion can’t afford to go without. The king’s timeline.”

Of course Ayla would turn her deathbed into a bargaining table. Serenna crossed her arms. “Tell me.”

Ayla traced the copper wisps of hair at Sharyne’s scalp, her gnarled fingers careful where they touched. “I want a vow in return.”

From the doorway, Lykor’s leathers creaked. “We don’t negotiate with prisoners.”

Ayla didn’t look at him. “Fascinating. You had no problem using my information before.”

“What do you want?” Serenna demanded.

Ayla’s attention dropped to Sharyne before returning to Serenna.

“You will raise her. Not hand her off or tuck her away in some camp where she becomes everyone’s burden and no one’s child. You.”

Serenna’s breath stalled halfway in, the chamber narrowing to the infant sleeping in Ayla’s arms.

“No.” Serenna studied her sister. “Why?”

Ayla’s mouth twisted, the sneer splitting a dry seam in her lip. “You’re her blood. And I’m out of better choices.”