Chapter 23

Iwasn't a complete fool.

Which was why I hesitated before entering the Oracle's mind.

But then again, maybe I was a fool, because in the end I crept into that dark, endless chamber not even knowing what I was searching for.

"Let's see what you are really up to."

This time, there was no serene vision of our home world.

I stepped into an antechamber shaking with fury, thorny vines climbing oozing, blackened walls, dripping in corruptive power. Gelvira flailed, thrashing furiously against the hair-thin band of witch magic that should never have been able to contain such a powerful being.

Yes, amazingly, it did, as I sorted through her memories like reading a book.

I watched the Fae fall in defeat. Then while her brother remained in his cave, Gelvira assimilated herself into their world, infiltrated their government at the highest level until she served at the side of the Fae King, corrupting Caladrius from within.

Pitting brother against brother.

Keeping the battle raging for a thousand years.

Black rained down around me as I crept deeper and deeper through her memories, catching stolen glimpses of the past. Torin as a young girl with dancing silver eyes, Cosimo working in a cluttered workshop, a circle of stark black mountains, dragons warring in the stormy sky above them.

The Fae King as a young man, his face smooth as he embraced a male with long black hair—his brother—an elderly king on a throne behind them, his crown gleaming in the sunlight.

The glimpses grew fragmented, more twisted. The skulls, lit only by flickering torches, surrounded by black-draped priestesses, chanting, blood pooling on the dusty stone floor.

Mount Sylvan rose before me, reflecting the pink of a new dawn, but instead of the four tiers of Tempeste rising from its base, a city of shining silver glimmered in the rays of the rising sun, light reflecting off long, pointed windows and impossibly thin spires.

Etherium.

The word rang as clear as a bell, then I was walking the city streets on a balmy night, jostled as I passed through a crowded market. Witches sold trinkets and herbs, bottles of spells and bags of bones and scrying bowls. The city was clean and organized, and magic was everywhere, a show of power that took my breath away.

Magic lit lights overhead, strung on poles along every street and alley.

Witches popped in and out of existence, shopping bags draped over their arms, some with children at their sides. But the laughter was what struck me most, the smiles on everyone's lips.

This was the world the Old Gods destroyed, then the Fae had pounded the final nails into the coffin and built Tempeste on the bones of this beautiful, magical city. All that remained of this ancient people was Mysthaven, and the two twisted siblings who would rather watch the world wither than fight to save it.

That's when a revelation clicked into place.

The Old Gods believed they'd defeated the witches.

But they'd only been driven underground where they'd honed their magic into a weapon against their enemies. A sword to kill a god.

I knew this was true, because even a slender thread was enough to hold the Oracle in check.

But the witches…they'd learned to defend themselves against the Old Gods. Keep them out with strong, impenetrable wards. Forged an actual weapon to kill them. We had one piece; we only needed the other.

I wandered down corridor after corridor until they all looked the same.

A dead and dying forest, blight dripping from the trees, a gray sky that never changed.

I was lost.

I was a fool. Somehow, I'd become lost inside the Oracle's memories.

Until I arrived in a luxurious chamber lit by faelights, with a black-and-white checkerboard floor, red roses on every table, dew still sparkling on their petals. Gelvira sat at the center table, her flowing dress black as the deepest shadows, her smile as bright as the chandeliers above our heads.

"Sister. Welcome. It seems you've become lost in my memories, so I thought I'd show you one of your own to make you feel more at home. While you are here as my guest."

That easily, the hunter had become the hunted.

I did the only thing I could think to do.

I ran.