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No, that wasn’t the case. Somehow, somewhere deep in Killian’s soul, he knew that she was alive. He could never be rid of her that easily.
He told himself that he wanted her to be alive purely so he could see the despair on her face as she stared down the gallows—not because he needed some sort of personal reconciliation with her. And yet every time he saw a silver-haired woman or caught the scent of jasmine, his heart gave a little leap.
Restless, Killian rolled over in bed. He hated the way his mind was so erratic, swinging from one extreme to the next, never content to be in the moment. He’d thought that getting the Bastards involved would help him feel more at ease, like some of his burden had been lifted. But it only seemed to rattle him more.
He let out a heavy breath. Perhaps he should take Manny up on his next offer to head to the tavern together. A night out would be good for him, and maybe he’d even—
All thoughts ceased immediately as the map began to glow brighter, so bright he had to squint against the light.
A few inches west of the capital, a deep, ruddy orange was spreading. Killian watched as it slowly expanded, like ink seeping into parchment. When it seemed to reach its full size, it was nearly the width of a silver coin.
“What—” he breathed. He’d never seen anything like this—didn’t even know that this level of magic was possible.
The orange dot continued to burn on the map. It seemed to pulsate, casting Killian’s bedroom in a daunting, flickering light.
His heart hammered against his ribs, painfully so. This—this was what he’d been hoping for. He knew, without a doubt, that this was her doing.
A town name had been scrawled on the map just along the edge of the orange glow—Prestowne.
Without a second thought, he grabbed his weapons, scribbled a note to his mother, and was out the door.
Chapter 8
- Elyse -
The library was one of the more impressive rooms in the country estate, with nearly two thousand books if her estimates were correct. It certainly wasn’t the largest personal library she’d ever seen, but it held an excellent selection of spellbooks, history books, and novels, and the tufted armchairs and floor-to-ceiling windows made it especially charming.
Elyse sat at the long table in the library with her head propped on her elbow, a hoard of books spread before her. The sun had set many hours earlier, and she now read by the flickering light of a candelabra, its tapers burning low. Most of the books she’d selected were histories of Rhodan, though she’d also chosen a few studies of clairvoyance and visions. So far, nothing she’d come across shed any light on Sera’s visions, and her ambition was waning. She yawned freely as she flipped another page.
Sera hadn’t been able to give her much to go off. She’d said the images were so quick and often dark that she could barely make anything out. Most of the people were fair skinned, and they ranged in all ages—teenagers, the elderly, mothers cowering with their children. Their homes appeared small and simple, not like the elegant stone townhouses of the capital, and their clothes were often plain. The most significant piece of information she’d shared was that she’d caught a glimpse of a statue of three figures. She’d been more focused on the panicked faces of the scurrying townsfolk than the actual statues, so she couldn’t recall many details.
“I think they were statues of people, but I can’t be sure,” she’d said.
But Elyse had been hopeful. She suspected she was dealing with a smaller town, based on the architecture and clothing Sera described. And the skin color would also help eliminate many towns, as people living outside the capital tended to cluster in groups of similar heritage. And surely the statues would be easy to identify—how many towns could possibly have a three-figured statue?
Yet half a day and countless books later, Elyse was no closer to finding any mention of such a town.
Her research into visions had proven just as fruitless. There were numerous reasons why a seer might have visions, including catastrophic events, personal traumas, or even diet. The visions could be past, present, or future, and they may be real or simply subject to interpretation.
Still, Elyse couldn’t shake the idea that the visions were some sort of warning. Sera’s anguish had been too intense to merely dismiss this as poor diet. Something about the fire and bodies dropping to the floor had sent an unforgettable shiver up her spine.
Despite all this, Elyse could hardly concentrate. The words on the pages were garbled nonsense, and she simply looked at the drawings—if there were any. There were statues of maidens, of warriors, of dogs and children and even a particularly bizarre statue of a horse with a duck’s head and a bat’s wings…
But no three-figured statues.
She glanced out at the stillness of the night and considered wandering down the hall to her dim bedchamber. Just get through the end of this book, she told herself. There had to be at least a hundred pages left. She let out a groan before stretching and yawning again.
Flip, flip, flip, she went through each page, her vision blurring. When she turned to a page with a sketch of a statue of three females, she took no notice, flipping idly to the next page.
She blinked, then blinked again. Her heart thrummed loudly, each beat waking her more and more. She sat up a little straighter, held her breath, and turned back the page.
The right side of the page was dedicated to a sketch of the statue: three women stood in a circle with their hands upraised: one elderly, one middle-aged, one barely pubescent. The matriarchs of Prestowne, read the caption beneath the drawing. Mary Preston, her daughter Emilia Preston, and her granddaughter Alivya Preston.
This had to be the statue from the visions. Pages upon pages and pages, and there hadn't been anything else. Elyse was convinced it was the only statue like it in the entire kingdom.
She shoved the book aside and snatched up the nearest atlas, flipping violently through the pages until she found what she was looking for: a map of Rhodan. With her finger sliding across the pages, she scoured every city and town on the map until finally she found Prestowne. It sat just west of the capital, about twenty miles away.
Renewed energy coursed through Elyse, setting her skin ablaze as she formed a plan. She hadn’t been to Prestowne before, so she couldn’t magick there, but… Her finger trailed south along the page, where a circle marked another town—Bendsworth. She’d been there many summers ago with her mother. If she magicked herself to that town, she could walk the ten or so miles to Prestowne and be there by dawn.
