Page 42 of The Serpent’s Shadow

And leave me dying in my rightful resting place.”

It was a dark, grim stanza that meant nothing to me. Yet when she chanted the words, Corym’s eyes glistened, and he nodded along reverently.

It was a short, solemn tale. Clearly, it meant something to Corym E’tar. I was sure it meant something toallLjosalfar.

I only wished I had some understanding of what it meant, why it was told to me. With a mention of “hauling a soul to the gates of the gods,” it sounded like a tale of the valkyries—the shield-maidens who flew down on winged steeds to bring warriors slain in battle to Valhalla, where they’d feast with the gods for time eternal and partake in endless wars.

Perhaps it is two conflated legends?

When Elayina was finished, Corym clamped his jaw tight. His chin dropped to his chest, before rising. “A tale that has never come close to being actualized. A story,Anvari, told to us as whelps.”

Elayina smiled, her face twisting from her shifting wrinkles. “And who will bring us this light, visitor?”

“‘The blood belonging to both and neither.’ More nonsense.”

The hell does that mean? What is “both” and “neither”?

I ran a hand nervously through my hair, twisting the ends.

Corym noticed my confusion. “It’s a phrase that has been debated for eons by scholars and seers. It means nothing, and that’s the point.”

I could tell he was angry about all this, how this was going.

Clearly, Elayina was trying to make a point. “The girl you have beside you is both and neither, is she not? Both elf and human. Neither elf nor human.”

I gasped.

Corym tightened his body and thrust an accusing finger at the Ancient One. “Don’t do that, Ancient One, I beg. That is just one interpretation of the prophecy. If you’re trying to say Ravinica Lindeen is the Lightbearer, thensay it!”

“I cannot,” Elayina answered with a sigh. She clasped her gnarled, skeletal hands together in front of her. “It is not my job to dissect and actualize the prophets. It is simply my duty to make you aware of thepossibility,visitor. If you do not search for the truth, you can never find it.”

Corym put a palm to his forehead.

I felt the same way. Elayina was exhausting with her riddles that didn’t seem to lead anywhere. “Truth is unwavering, ma’am,” I said. “It is found, not stumbled upon. It is learned, not felt. It is discovered, often through reason, deduction, trial and error. I was taught that as a whelp.”

“Then you had a fine teacher, child. Yet there are many ways to see the same thing. I cannot say you are more special than you are, because I do not know. I don’t have the power of foresight. I am no prophet.

“However, I am staying in Midgard because my work is not finished here. Cruel, dark magic has kept me here, binding me to this land. Now that it has let up, and I have my first chance at retaliation, I am to flee? Nonsense, child.” Lady Elayina shook her head firmly, closing her eyes.

Finally, moving on from the prophecy—now grounding herself in reality—she was starting to make sense.

And the truth of that reality astounded me.Cruel, dark, binding magic? Was it from the humans? Good gods. That is why she is stuck in this damned tree-hollow?

“Then you will die, Lady Elayina,” Corym said simply.

“So be it. I should have died ages ago, boy.”

“You are too important to the Ljosalfar—”

“I am a memory!” Elayina screamed, forcing me back a step. “A wraith plaguing your stories! Undue importance has been placed at my feet when I never asked for any of it. Do not tell me what I am, visitor!”

It was a tale as old as time: a leader, a visionary, who wanted to be neither. As I’d been taught, often the most resistant leader made the best one.

My heart sped up, slamming against my ribs. The sweltering heat in the cave grew more intense. Sweat beaded my brow. I went into a reflexive, defensive stance.

She abruptly calmed, lowering her hands to her lap. The room chilled. “The blood belonging to both and neither,” she repeated, then nudged her chin in our direction. “Go out and discover the truth, children. Or don’t. It matters not to me. The Ljosalfar abandoned me ages ago, for all I care to think.”

“It’s . . . not true,” Corym grunted, though his voice had lost its bite. He sounded hopeless, defeated.

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