This would hurt.
Before she could talk herself out of it, Kestrel slid the sharp end of the dagger across her palm. She hissed at the sting of flesh tearing and resisted the urge to clutch the wound tight. But she needed the blood. Needed to give a sacrifice to the Sky-Blessed so that they might do her bidding.
The ruby red liquid gushed onto the table.
Realizing she was making a mess, Kestrel grabbed an empty goblet and let it pool into the chalice instead. As her blood continued to pour from the hot wound, she called to the mighty idols the way she’d heard Thom and Signe beseech them, although she felt foolish doing so.
“Oh great and powerful Sky-Blessed, hear my plea! Accept my offering and guide my path. Tell me what I need to do to save Thom from his imprisonment and possible execution!”
She wasn’t sure if the shouting was necessary, but it seemed fitting. The Sky-Blessed needed to hear her, wherever they were. Her plea needed to reach them.
With the goblet held high, Kestrel waited.
And waited.
At the first breath of wind that blew through the room, she nearly cried.
It worked. The Sky-Blessed had heard her call. They were sending her an answer!
Kestrel set the goblet down on the table and inhaled the magic that danced around her. It smelled of charcoal, rain, andsalt. A fiery spark that felt like fate. And Kestrel wanted to bathe in it.
And then, her vision clouded with darkness.
Panic overcame her.
No, not now.
The dining room faded. The burning in her hand disappeared much like every other sense of her being. She wasn’t used to these visions yet. Wasn’t sure she ever would be. Only once the darkness was complete, did light begin to shine through the cracks.
Kestrel recognized the bare limbs of the tree branches in the Hollows quicker this time. The same scene played around her. A rainstorm of black feathers. A lake with a blue light seeping from the depths.
Only this time, Kestrel wasn’t alone.
Beside her stood Princess Elora, as striking as ever. The chains around her neck and wrists were gone. The crown that was embedded or tattooed in her forehead was dazzling, the silver ink shining as she reached up toward the sky and gathered a collection of feathers into her arms. And she was smiling. Grinning, completely unburdened by the cold and hardened exterior Kestrel had come to associate with her.
She was radiant, but not radiant like the shining of the sun. Her radiance was darker, like the voidless gleam of a black gemstone, or the velvety petals of a midnight flower.
She was beauty. She was darkness. She was a Queen of Death.
Kestrel wouldn’t have been able to turn away from her, if it hadn’t been for the splashing she heard from her other side.
Twisting around, Kestrel found Signe trudging into the lake, the water like ink around her. When she reached the center, the queen sunk her hands into the black fluid, all the way up to her shoulders, until she could grab the blue light from below. Shebrought it up to her face, a star held in her grasp. The light shone so brightly, Kestrel had to cover her eyes, but she could still make out the shadow of the queen, a light and dark version of her splitting in two from the radiant blue glow. The light version of her almost seemed juvenile, like there was a touch of innocence about her that belonged to a younger version of herself. While the darker side of her became mangled and beastly, a monster ready to prowl.
All the while, the blue light kept shining until all Kestrel could see was blinding brightness.
Her head swam. Ears ringing. And Kestrel didn’t realize she was screaming until she came to in Efrem’s arms. The rafters of the castle ceiling whizzed by in a blur. With shaking breaths, Kestrel managed to lift her head up and find Micah jogging beside them as the three of them bounded down one of the castle hallways.
“What’s happening?” she asked, voice hoarse. “Where are you taking me?”
Micah startled at the sound of her. Jerking around, he rushed in closer. “Thank the sun. Are you alright?” She started to nod her head, but stopped when the slightest movement made her dizzy. “We came in for a quick bite before training, and you were passed out on the floor, blood all over your hand. And your eyes! They were…gone!”
“Gone?”
“They were white,” Efrem corrected. “Rolled all the way back like you were under some trance.” He said it like a question, and Kestrel felt compelled to answer.
“I think I was. I think…I think I’m having visions like my mother used to.”
“Visions?” Micah asked, still seeming dubious of her well-being. “Like…magic?”
