Page 196 of Ash and Feather

Everything was going according to plan.

I only had to focus on my next part of this plot: Finding the heart that Malaphar had mentioned.

In the back of my mind, horrible scenes of a battle were starting to form—images I feared were being inadvertently passed to me through our court’s divine connection. But I pushed them down and worked on recalling the directions my sister had given me.

When I’d mentioned theheart of the elven rebellionto her, her reply had been almost immediate: In the very center of the city, there was a grass field filled with flowers, stretching away from a stone monument.

The same monument I’d encountered the last time I snuck into this city.

So at least I had no trouble finding it.

It was more than a memorial to the dead, apparently; it had existed long before Dravyn killed the poor souls whose names were etched into the stone’s surface. Originally, that stone was placed as a shrine to the ones who had discovered the first anti-divine runes; a copy of those runes was inscribed on the back of it. I’d been too distracted by the names on the front to notice it last time, but perhaps that inscription was part of the reason the energy in this area felt so strange to me.

If there is a heart beating in Ederis,my sister had told me,it is likely buried near that white stone.

Behind the towering rock, I found a patch of ground that looked strange. Nothing grew upon it, and the dirt was an odd shade of blackish grey. As I drew closer, I noticed the same runes here as on the back of the monument.

I withdrew Antaeum.

With all the strength I could gather, I lifted the dagger high and slammed it into the cold earth.

It pierced easily and sank in deeply—up to my forearms. I kept a tight hold on the dagger as it hummed and warmed, briefly filling the air with the scent of scorched dirt.

But nothing else happened.

Hands shaking, I drew it out. Wiped the dirt from the blade. My touch caused the etchings to glow momentarily, which encouraged me to try again.

I willed more of my divine magic to accompany the strike this time.

Still nothing.

There was movement to my right.

A narrow road separated me from the rest of the city—but some passerby had seen me and hesitated at the sight.

Much of the city might have been moving out, but there were still a fair number staying behind. And Andrel likely was not far away yet.

I couldn’t risk drawing too much attention to myself.

I clutched the divine dagger to my chest and crept farther from that narrow road, into the shadows of a small, locked outbuilding.

A feeling of impossibility threatened as I pressed against that building and out of sight, studying the weapon in my hands.

What now?

The longer I hid, the faster my mind raced—and the more vibrant the violent sights and sounds in my head became.

I was almost certain of it, now: These mental glimpses I kept receiving…they were not in my imagination. I was inadvertently getting updates on the battle my divine family was fighting far in the distance.

As soon as I admitted this to myself, a stronger surge of chaotic thoughts and feelings hit me, crescendoing in a terrible sensation of pain that shot through my back—like I’d just slammed into the ground, knocking the breath from my lungs.

Something was definitely wrong.

What was happening at the Hollows’ edge?

I pushed away from the building, frantically pacing the small yard in front of it, trying to think.

Where else could I try to plant this stupid dagger?