“The young queen did not properly seal the request,” Lancaster explained. “It was vague enough that the one who delivered the prophecy did not clarifywhichroyal bloodline.”
Cypherion asked, “The queen wants me dead, then?”
“She wants you watched. There were other parameters to the prophecy—for our kind, they operate similarly to a bargain. One cannot attempt to change the fate if they have been reckless enough to ask for it.”
“That’s cruel,” Santorina said, voice low.
“It is our way,” Lancaster gritted out.
“To be forced to live with knowledge of the future and let it taunt you?” she asked.
“If one does not wish to know what awaits, one can demonstrate enough control to not ask at all.” Lancaster and Rina glared at each other.
“It’s like Soulguider visions.” Jezebel sliced through their debate, exchanging a look with her partner. “Except Soulguiders don’t have a choice in receiving them.”
I’d often wondered how it would feel to have access to Soulguider or Starsearcher magic, where the ends of livesor twists of fate were bluntly thrown into your path. And Soulguiders couldn’t even disclose what they’d seen.
My heart ached for Erista and my grandmother, a bit of longing to know that side of myself better creeping in. I shook it away for now, though.
“How are you able to tell us this?” I asked Lancaster and Mora. “Won’t Ritalia have your throats for exposing these secrets?”
“It is a show of good faith,” the male replied. “In exchange for what she requested of you yesterday.”
The emblems. Not a chance in the Angel-guarded realm would I simply hand them over to her because she asked, made a bargain, or revealed some secret that could be her own downfall. Truthfully, I found it a bit desperate and shortsighted of her to do so.
But Ritalia had been a queen for millennia. She understood the stakes. If she’d made this decision, there had to be more to the puzzle than I was seeing. It was best to keep the fae close while we figured it out and give them something in return to appease this partnership.
My head whirled with the possibilities. A warm hand braced my lower back, and I summoned some steadiness from Tolek, picking apart warrior secrets to decide what I could disclose to the fae.
“Wehavebeen hunting the Angel emblems. We don’t have them all, yet, and I am not comfortable making any binding agreements on their fate until more is known. We will however consider working with you in this open exchange, so long as Ritalia holds true to the bargains she made on the isle.”
Lancaster nodded. “There are two left?”
“Yes,” I said. No use attempting to lie when they’d seen me wield them against Kakias, but I didn’t know if they understood the weight of the power I commanded from those emblems now.
“I have something that can assist with the sixth,” Cypherion said. He took the stairs two at a time, returning with a stack of worn scrolls.
“These are from Titus. When he…” His words choked off.
And I saw it, then. The fissures he’d been fighting ever since he arrived at the isle, frantic and tortured. The ones he hadn’t allowed himself time to express in his own panic.
Cypherion’s fists clenched against the table, I imagined itching for a fight to give him some sense of power back.
I’d been waiting to ask. Waiting until he brought it up. But he was on the verge of shattering.
“Cypherion,” I said softly. “What happened to Vale?”
His eyes glazed over as he stared at the sealed scrolls. “We went to Lumin first. I entered a fight, got us information that sent us to the city archives in Valyn. She shouldn’t have gone there. Shouldn’t have had to. Both of those cities are hard for her, but Valyn—Titus?—”
His words broke off with a grimace. He looked like he couldn’t keep speaking, too much rage tunneling through him. So, we helped.
“What happened when you got to Valyn?” Tolek asked carefully. “Did you go to the archives?”
“We did, and something came over her. The reading was”—his jaw ticked—“worse than ever.”
I gave him a moment, then asked, “Did Titus know you were there?”
Cypherion nodded. “But we didn’t know he knew.”
