Page 151 of Crown of Slumber

I halted and sifted through the memories that had only recently returned to me. After a moment, my eyes widened in surprise. “Ah. You were a weaver.”

“Yes. Weavers can create powerful spells. I found I was able to create the most powerful ones using a spinning wheel. The intricate workings of the machine helped weave the layers of magic perfectly.” Her tone became wistful, and I knew she was remembering her past life, just like I had been.

“Am I allowed to roam?” I asked. “I want to know what else is here in this dreamscape.”

Rosalina’s eyebrows narrowed. “No one here can help you, Aurora.”

“I know that,” I snapped. “But I would like to pretend I am home once more. Before my strength fails me.”

“If you wish, I can pull you back under my influence. Make you believe you are dreaming once more.”

“No,” I said quickly. “I—I want to be lucid for this part. When my connection to the dragons is lost, I won’t be myself anymore, will I?”

“No,” Rosalina said, her tone cold and indifferent.

I nodded, forcing my face to crumple in grief as if I were fighting back tears. I turned away as if to cry, when really I was trying to scan the area for some kind of substance I could use to paint the rune. If this was all just an illusion, would something like dirt even work?

A rune is most powerful when blood is used,Fenn had told me.

I surveyed my hands, thinking hard. “You… probably have better things to do than watch me waste away,” I said.

Rosalina chuckled without humor. “I’m not leaving your side until the transfer is complete, Aurora.”

“Aurelia. My name is Aurelia.”

“I refuse to refer to you by a false name. Your given name was Aurora Briarcliffe Gaelania. That is who you were when you and my other sisters cast me out. Nothing will ever change that.” Her words were clipped and full of malice.

I turned to face her, nostrils flaring. “You attacked our people. Can you blame us for retaliating?”

“You would not see reason!” she seethed, drawing closer to me. “You were squandering a powerful energy that could have been useful to us.”

I shook my head, turning away from her.Something sharp. I need something sharp.I rubbed my hands down my face, then lifted my fingers, pretending to scratch just above my ear. My fingers met a long pin still holding some of my curls in place. I turned, continuing my pacing, waiting until I fully faced Rosalina before I slowly removed the pin from the back of my head and closed my fist around it.

“Did you think I was lying when I revealed the prophecy to you?” I asked, trying to keep her distracted.

“I believe you could have been the savior of the realm,” she said.

“Really? Even after I destroyed that village?”

“It was a minor setback.”

I turned away from her once more, my feet continuing the same path up and down the clearing. With my back to her, I glanced down at the pin in my palm, then dug the sharpened point deep into my finger. Blood welled, but I kept digging. I would need more than just a few drops to paint this rune.

“I don’t consider the loss of hundreds of lives to be asetback,” I said.

“That’s why you never should have had this power,” Rosalina said, her tone harsh. “You areweak.You refuse to do what is necessary for the good of the realm. For the good of the witches.”

More blood flowed until it was dripping down my finger. I coated the fingers of my other hand in the blood, then painted the marking on the back of my palm, just as Shay had.

A circle… and two lines…My hand shook as I drew.

“What are you doing?” Rosalina demanded, finally noticing my attention was elsewhere.

I finished the final line, completing the rune. The moment Ilifted my hand, the rune glowed white, searing into my hand. A blast of energy exploded from within my chest, sending me flying. But instead of careening into a thick tree trunk, I floated, hovering in the air, my feet dangling just above the ground. My arms spread wide, and I threw my head back as a burst of power flooded my veins, my blood, my very soul.

Rosalina screamed something unintelligible, but I paid her no attention. Power swarmed inside me as if a dam had broken, gushing and flowing without restraint.

It was so similar to that day in the witch encampment. The day Shay had died. My arms trembled, and I drew in a sharp breath, trying not to think of those screams and shouts, of the horrors of that day.

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