Page 148

So do not ask. Yes, yes, I know.

“Dwindled sun makes evening darker, I see. Have you figured out the puzzle, yet? So many pieces, pieces, pieces, all moving, moving, moving.”

Lunara stilled, her hand unmoving where it rested on the Forgotten. She’d long ago figured out that she and Brand mostly stood within the Shadow Prophecy—and Endellion’s added personal tidbits—as poetic, opposite times of day.

Her comparison to the night hours was a more bitter tincture to swallow now that Lunara knew more about who was inside of Brand. And the darker aspect, while she was actively testing her theories on another living being, turned her stomach.

“I told you this would happen, but you didn’t listen.” Endellion sighed. “Abandon your worries. This creature’s fate is sealed, as were all the others, and would have been worse without you. I can say that because what’s done is done, and there is no changing it.”

Her assurances weren’t as comforting as Lunara might’ve liked.

“We are all light and dark, Moonweaver. Especially where love is concerned.”

Wait. “What’s done is done…”

You can talk about things that have already happened? Clearly and without all the shite?

“Clever Moth.”

Lunara’s pulse quickened. Endellion did this before, leaving clues within her words. It was how she’d learned the Oracle’s name during her trial for the Tear Stone.

But why was she doing it now?

Maybe there was a way to test her.

Who was Brand taken by?

“That creature goes by the name of Okthana.”

Something about her answer was off, but Lunara didn’t care at the moment. It was more direct than most of what Endellion usually said. That was the important part.

In the library, was it vision or dream?

“What’s the difference?”

Less clear. Her tone was teasing, but there was a certain gravity to it she couldn’t put her finger on.

No matter. Lunara was going to figure Endellion out if it killed her.

For Brand.

Something wasn’t right.

Fern practically leapt from her dream, hovering in an instant and scanning the room with mace in hand. Nothing shifted or moved, there were no sounds, but that ache in her chest persisted.

She zoomed about, checking under every bit of furniture and clothing. Behind the doors and curtains, the insides of baskets. Nothing.

Maybe twig dick was having a moment.

If that was the case, Lunara was needed. Fern didn’t want to bother her, not after the wild hours she’d been keeping and the awful end of their day, but there wasn’t much of a choice. If something happened to him while she slept, Lunara would never forgive Fern for not waking her.

She went back to the bed, giving it a second in case anything changed and she could avoid it. Lunara was passed the fuck out, her breathing deep and even, and⁠—

Fern froze, her intuition sparking. That was too fucking deep and even. Lunara never slept so hard, always tossing and twitching. Mumbling. And she definitely never snored.

With a growl, Fern landed the mattress, crouched, and smacked her friend square in the face. She would’ve gotten more of a response from a blimmin’ couch cushion.

“That fucking idiot.” She spun in place, barely resisting the urge to kick Lunara’s likeness for the piss of it. “You better still be in here moping around somewhere, you bum blossom. Come back before I freak out, eh?”