Page 54 of The Bones of the Cursed
I glance at Malakai, practically hearing the wheels turn in his mind. “Where were the family holdings before they moved here?” I ask.
The king’s face is grim. “The Isle of Rimoldi.”
Siveral gasps at the far end of the table. Malakai has gone pale. As if on instinct, I reach out and squeeze his hand in comfort.
“There is a throne on the Isle,” the king continues. “The only other throne that could possibly be in this realm. It is one steeped in blood.”
My palms turn sweaty. I go to pull my hand free, but Malakai tightens his grip, unwilling to let me go.
“Siveral and Kailu explained some of the history, but could you tell me more?” My stare is on the king, but it’s the queen who answers my question.
“A few years before Paliri moved the throne,” the queen begins, “a wealthy family began to take over the Isle. They cared for the inhabitants for a time, even after the royals left. That is, until their eldest son Iclas took over. This was a few months after Paliri left. Once Iclas began his sacrifices, the Gods and Goddesses damned him and the Isle. Some managed to escape during the bloodshed, but not everyone. The Gods only cursed the guilty, though neighbor turned against neighbor and a battlebegan. No one knows what happened to Iclas, as he and his family disappeared during this time. Most assumed they died due to the curse, like all the others. We also believed that to be true.”
Her wording gives me pause. “You don’t believe that now, though?”
The king shakes his head. “When we got word about missing soldiers, we thought nothing of it at first, until Kailu’s letter. Malakai was already investigating the increase in ghoul attacks, so we had him start looking into the missing soldiers, too. Although he was supposed to take people with him for protection, not go alone.” The king gives his son a scolding stare before continuing. “Each piece of information we received became more and more worrisome. Then we got word from the Shadow Vale Coven.”
My heart skyrockets at the name of my potential relatives. It’s Malakai’s turn to give my hand a reassuring squeeze.
“One of their witches specializes in tracking power surges throughout the realm. It’s how they keep their coven safe from other Witches who may look to overthrow them,” the king explains. “The matriarch pinpointed them to locations already steeped in magic. She guessed that someone was opening portals—not just one, but multiple. All across the realm.”
“Why would someone need multiple portals?”
“To give them multiple locations to drop their soldiers,” Malakai says. “Strategic locations that would quite possibly help them win a war.”
My blood runs cold when the king gives a solemn nod. “We believe that the person behind this is planning an all-out war to take over the realm.”
“Who?” Siveral demands, holding a butter knife like it’s something far deadlier. “Do you have any idea?”
“Iclas,” the queen says, as if commenting on the weather.
My head jerks back. “How is that possible?”
“Iclas was clever,” she says. “He knew he could outsmart almost everyone. He also knew that his sacrifices would anger the Gods. When this all started, I went to the castle records, just as you plan to do. Siah, our archivist, found the last record of the Gods in this realm from when they cursed the Isle.” She takes a breath, as if to brace herself. “However, I noticed a discrepancy in one of the reports. After further digging, he helped me find a complete and accurate record from that time in our realm’s history. Right before the curse was placed, there is a record of the Hell Gods being spotted in Bone Valley. A hunter spotted Ames and Ryta.”
Ames, God of Hell and Shadow, and Ryta, Goddess of Death and Vengeance. I shudder. That damned place would be where Hell Gods had their council meetings. Their names are now burned into my memory from a history book on Hell I had been reading before Elion went missing.
“And you think this hooded figure was Iclas?” Malakai asks in a cautious voice, as if scared to hear the answer.
The queen nods, fiddling with a tiny spoon beside her plate. “I believe he sold his soul to the Hell Gods in exchange for power. I don’t believe he ever truly left. I think he used the cursed Isle to his advantage and has been biding his time there, gaining power.”
“Biding his time for what?” I whisper, for fear the Hell Gods themselves can hear me.
The queen locks eyes with me. “There are rumors of a prophecy—one that could damn the world, or save it.”
The blood drains from my face. Malakai’s face is so tense his right eye twitches as he speaks up. “What exactly does this prophecy say?”
The queen sips her wine, as if to fortify herself. “I’ve never seen it, nor do I know it in its entirety. The written prophecywent missing long ago. Some say the Fates hid it, and that it would only show itself to the ones who could help fulfill it. A Shadow Vale Witch who works closely with us brought it up to me about a year ago.”
“Do you rememberanyof the prophecy?” Malakai asks, his patience running thin.
The queen narrows her eyes at her son, and he ducks his chin, chastised. But she continues: “Not much. Just that a sacrifice of some kind was needed. And there is a child with hidden magic.”
A glass shatters, and I whip my head around. Kailu stands behind Siveral, blood dripping off his hand. Malakai’s grip has loosened around mine. I meet Kailu’s gaze. His eyes roam over me, as if I could disappear at any second.
My mind flits to Novus’s warning not so long ago about the Fates. What if what he said was right? What if my fate is not a happy one, but one of sacrifice?
I fear that I might be the key to this prophecy. I was raised as human but have some type of magic hidden in my veins. There are too many things tying back to me.
