Page 102 of The Shadowbound King

Walto grimaced, then winced as she scratched at his hand. Her legs scissored under the bedding, dislodging the sheet and exposing her swollen belly. When she went limp, Walto tossed the cloth aside. Breathing heavily, he went to the corner and returned with a leather bag. He flipped it open and withdrew a knife. For a moment, his expression wavered. He looked at the woman’s face, his mouth trembling. Then he wrenched his gaze away. Eyes grim, he cut into the woman’s belly.

The vision skipped. Now, Walto staggered to an empty cradle with a limp newborn in his bloodstained arms. He placed the child among the blankets, then picked up a bundle. Tucking it in the crook of his elbow, he used his good hand to unwrap a shimmering Kree. The jewel was smaller and dimmer now, the once brilliant jewel reduced to the size of a walnut. Black rot climbed up one side, suppressing the Kree’s golden glow.

Lips trembling, Walto began to chant, the Old Language awkward as it spilled from his lips.

The Kree’s light intensified. Walto’s hair stirred as a breeze picked up. With a trembling hand, he put the tip of the knife to the baby’s chest. Closing his eyes, he pressed the blade deep. Blood spurted.

The vision skipped.

Now, Walto thrust the Kree into a gash in the infant’s chest. Nothing happened. Walto hung his head.

Suddenly, light burst from the cradle. The baby jerked, then stretched her mouth wide and wailed. The bloody wound in her chest blazed with light and then sealed itself. Joy suffused Walto’s face as he lifted the child, who opened her eyes, revealing bright golden irises.

The vision changed, images swirling and reforming.

Now, Mirella trailed behind a hard-faced Rane as they entered the courtyard. Nobles stared, the whole Embervale turned out to watch Rane parade Lornlark’s daughter past the people he’d wronged. Pale and bedraggled, she kept her head high as Rane tugged the shadow tether, making her walk faster to avoid tripping and falling.

Othor pushed through the crowd, shock and relief flaring in his eyes before he blinked, quickly smoothing his features.

The vision changed again. Mirella gazed up at the Edeloak with moonlight puddling at her feet. Othor moved behind her. He lifted a hand toward the tree, and a soft, golden light built in his palm.

“The leaves tell us things if we care to listen.”

Light spread up the tree, revealing the faces of the elves within Autumn’s family tree. Near the bottom, Mirella’s portrait appeared.

“You are part of Autumn,”Othor said in her ear. As she gazed at the tree, he pulled a knife from his sleeve.“Your blood connects you to Ishulum.”He pointed to a patch of brown grass at the bottom of the tree.

Mirella frowned.

“The land is unwell,”Othor said, gripping the knife.“No living thing can survive without a heart, and Autumn is no exception.”With a sharp flick of his hand, the family tree vanished. The golden light snuffed out, plunging the King’s Grove into shadow.

Mirella turned, blinking as she appeared to search for him.

“Your father created the sickness that plagues this kingdom,”he said.“But you can heal it.”

“Me?”She shook her head.“My gift works best on animals. And my magic has limits. I can’t revive the dying. And as much as I might want to, I can’t replace a heart.”

Othor stepped close, the knife tucked against his robes.

Running footsteps made them both turn. Ginhad rushed into the grove, his expression frazzled and his hair escaping its black ribbon.“Apologies for the interruption, but the king and Lord Rane have returned. Andrin is injured.”

The vision changed again.

Now, Othor stood beside me atop the Embervale’s tallest tower.“The shadows grow longer,”he said.“And thicker.”The vision skipped, and he touched my shoulder.“It’s early yet, and the Embervale sleeps. You should get some rest.”As he turned away, his lips moved.

The vision changed, and now Othor stood with Rane. His features went uncharacteristically soft as he gripped Rane’s bicep.“After everything Andrin has done for Autumn, he deserves to be happy. You make him happy. I know you’ll make him see reason.”He squeezed Rane’s arm, then turned and walked away. As Rane stared after him, Othor’s lips moved again.

The visions faded. The Edeloak’s leaves went dark. Silence fell over the grove.

I looked at Othor, rage boiling in my veins. “You,” I rasped. “It was all you. How could you do this?”

“I did it for Autumn,” he said, venom lacing his voice.

For a second, disbelief rendered me speechless. “You gave the Kree to Walto for Autumn?”

“I gave it to him for safekeeping. I had no way of knowing he’d keep it for himself.”

Rane shoved Othor harder against the Edeloak. “You fucking idiot. You trusted a human.”