In a week, Mathenholm would burn. And the usurper king would learn what it meant to fear the fallen.
I hung backas the last hope we had drifted into the night, readying themselves to put my plan into action. I’d won them over, but at what cost? My gift had flowed out of me, pushing minds toward choices they might not have made on their own. But I couldn’t risk it. Not when Michaela’s life hung in the balance.
The ruins fell quiet again. Only the three of us remained. Luca and Lucius stood nearby, waiting to see if there was some other foolproof plan that I hadn’t shared with the others. But these reckless decisions were all that I had to offer them.
Lucius broke the silence. “You know this plan—it’s not going to?—”
“Don’t say it,” I snapped, my nerves frayed. I dropped to my knees, hitting the stone floors with the weight of the realm on my shoulders.
I pulled the Book of Astrium from my satchel. The tome was heavy in a way that had nothing to do with the parchment within. “Please, Divine… do not forsake us,” I whispered. “Why bind me to her if you only meant to tear us apart? I don’t think my soul could survive it. Show me the right path.”
I let the book fall open to the page that had ensnared my life. I traced Michaela’s face, the lines worn smooth by repetition. “Do you ever wonder if we’re living it right now?” I asked. “If we’re already on the path written in these pages and don’t even realize it?”
Luca sighed. “Nothing the Divine does is ever straightforward. You should know that by now. Even if we could translate every words, I doubt they would bring you any peace. It would only be more riddles to drive you mad.”
Footsteps echoed through the ruins and my hand dropped to my knife. I let out a sigh when Amos emerged from the shadows. His eyes sharp beneath the weight of sleepless nights.
“They told me you’d still be here,” he said, eyes drifting to the book in my hands. “You look like shit, my friend.”
I let out a dry laugh. “I need answers, Amos. I have them right here, and still, it’s like trying to read the stars through storm clouds. Has the Divine given up on Hiraeth?”
“May I?” he asked, motioning to the book.
I handed it to him. At this point, he could have the damn thing for all the good it had done me.
He fingered through the pages, a warm smile on his face as his aged hands swept across the parchment. “Used to be that knowing the language of the ancient ones was a death sentence. Too many thought they could bend the will of the Divine by silencing their messengers. Damn fools.”
“And they’ve cursed the rest of us in their ignorance. That book’s nothing more than good kindling now,” Lucius muttered.
“Ah, but the Divine work in mysterious ways. Prophecies were never meant to hand you all the answers. Fate and destiny are a twisted, complicated mess—meant to maintain the delicate balance of life.” Amos closed the book, clutching it to his chest, his gaze steady on mine. “Good begets evil. Evil begets good. Each of us has a role to play, and prophecy helps lead usdown the right path. Sometimes that path isn’t the easy one. Sometimes it’s the one that breaks you. And that is why the weak cannot handle that kind of knowledge. What kind of leader are you, Nico, son of Artos?”
“I want to do right by my people. By my family... and by the woman I love.” I held his gaze, hoping he could feel the conviction behind my words.
“Even if the cost is your life?” he asked. His typically animated features were stoic as he awaited my answer.
“Even then. If that’s the price, I’d pay it gladly.”
“Mmhmm.” He nodded, a broad smile cracking his features as he looked up toward the ceiling. “I believe I’m the one that told you!” he called out.
“I’m sorry—what?”
“The Divine felt the need to confirm the truth of your words.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “But I’m the one who told them you had a pure soul.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but that doesn’t help me now.” I sighed. “Silent prayers in ruined temples won’t spill the blood of my enemies, and that’s what I need now. Does the Divine care to explain how I’m supposed to defeat Johan when he has the Bloodstone Sigil? I’ve racked my brain and still haven’t found the answer.”
Amos reopened the Book of Astrium, flipping to the page I knew so well. “As it turns out, I know a thing or two about the ancient tongue. And what I can’t manage, the Divine will whisper in my ear. But not until they’ve had their fun watching me struggle through it,” he chuckled, his whole belly shaking as he slapped his knee.
I stared at him in disbelief. The old sage had just offered to translate a dead text, and he laughed as if he’d shared a tavern joke rather than offering the key to my entire fate.
“Are you serious? You’ve been able to read it the whole time and never said anything?” Luca asked, breaking through my stunned silence.
“Sometimes the right path comes exactly when you need it and not a moment before,”Amos replied, waving away the accusation.
“Well, get to it. What does it say?” Lucius snapped, tone as sharp as ever.
“As I said, I only know so much. The Divine fills in the gaps when they’re feeling generous.” Amos squinted at the page, adjusting it this way and that, muttering under his breath as we watched in tense silence.
“I think he’s had too much to drink,” Lucius grumbled. “Maybe we shouldn’t leave Mic’s fate in his hands.”
