Page 137 of The Dawn of the Cursed Queen

Orym tugged on my shoulder. “She mentioned my twin. Maybe she knows something. We should take her back with us.”

“If you think I’m carrying the dirty, crazy lady back to . . .” My words trailed off. I stepped closer to him and lowered my voice so she couldn’t overhear. “Back to them. You’re more insane than she is.”

“She mentioned my twin,” Orym pleaded.

“Your twin is fine. You just talked to her.”

Orym’s eyes searched mine, his tail swishing in agitation, but he nodded. “You’re right. You’re right.”

“Yes.” I rubbed a gentle hand on his arm. “Now, mystery woman and sword that we have to catch.”

The tips of his canines showed as he smiled, but he obliged, turning on his heel.

“You do not trust me, but trust the one who defies nature,” the oracle spat. “She is destruction, boy. No one will be safe with her. No one ever is.” She laughed, and I felt my nails turn to claws. I dropped Orym’s arm, careful not to hurt him. My blood chilled at her words, and this time, Orym stopped.

“Dianna.” Whatever was on my face scared him, and I knew my eyes bled red.

“Do you think you can touch death, girl, and it not take something from you?”

“Shut up.” The words left my lips on a hiss. I turned toward her, and the oracle grinned.

“He watches you now.” She swayed on her feet, a chaotic laugh leaving as she tilted her head up. “You will be his new favorite toy. No one gets close to his kingdom without . . . without . . . without.” Her words died on another sob as whatever she was remembering or seeing crippled her.

“What is she talking about?” Orym whispered, but I said nothing, standing as if my feet were suddenly stuck to the floor. I felt it again, the cold chill that had been with me since the tunnels, as if a part of me had never left there or something had followed. Was that the man I saw at River Bend watching me? Or was it the shadows I kept seeing out of the corner of my eye? Was I being followed? My heart raced in my chest, and I knew what she meant.

“Dianna!” Orym turned me toward him, jerking me out of my fear-induced paralysis. I remembered to breathe, and with every gulp of air I took in, determination set in a bit deeper.

“We need to leave,” I said, steeling my shoulders.

Saliva dripped from her mouth as she pulled on her chains. “Ask her, headless boy. Ask her what she begged the stars for and what lives now. Ask her what she ripped from the very heavens. And then ask her if she cares. The old blood runs through her veins. The first Ig’Morruthen. He did not care either.”

“Orym, let’s go.” I tried and failed to pull him away, and he brushed my hands off of him.

“No,” he snapped. “What is she talking about?”

The oracle smiled far too wildly to be anything other than Otherworldly. “If Nismera is cruel, then you, Ayla, are evil.”

“I am not,” I snapped far too quickly.

“Ayla?” Orym asked.

“It’s my real name. Or the one my father gave me. It’s a long story.” I raised my hand toward the oracle. “Just shut up.”

“He does not know your father? The Celestial of Death. The one who carved weapons for the gods.”

Orym’s head nearly twisted off with how fast he looked at me. “Azrael? Azrael your father? What have you not been telling me?”

“Not now,” I snapped.

“Yes, now.” He bared his teeth. “You treated me as if I couldn’t be trusted when it’s been you this whole time.”

“It’s not like that.”

The oracle went on. “You think the universe has not seen the blood you’ve shed and how you bathed in it? The vile and vicious things you’ve done and how you slept like a babe? Tell the doomed elf how you feed on life but are absent of it. Do you think the stars will reward you with love now? That you will know peace? You are doomed.”

Orym’s eyes narrowed on me. “What are you talking about? Tell me.”

“Orym, stop,” I responded far quicker than I intended. I pointed toward her. “You said it yourself. The oracles went mad.”

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