Page 164 of What Blooms from Death

Rose Point.

I was back at Rose Point.

Bodies flickered into view. Most remained hazy in the background, their chatter an incomprehensible blur of noise. But I could feel the vibrations of their shuffling feet, could smell the spices of the food they were eating, along with the acrid sweetness of their wine…

I felt a pounding in my chest, and I wasn’t sure if it was my own heart or the pulsing magic of the sword I was touching. Either way, it soon grew painful. Loud. Slowly, but surely rising, blaring out all other things.

Thump. Thump. THUMP—

Then it stopped,everythingstopped, as the vision centered on a person holding Luminor. It was an odd angle, and the image of him was somewhat distorted—like I was watching the scene play out upon the reflective surface of the blade.

But I recognized the tattooed arms steadying the sword.

Zayn.

The familiar, complex tapestry of inked vines and thorns…but now I noticed a new symbol tucked alongside one of those thorns. It was glowing—a small circle that flared like a beacon in the fog. Radiating from its center were rays of light that grew progressively brighter toward the middle, and two crescent shapes curved away from the circle on either side, like blades protecting the light within it. The center of this symbol was theonly thing that remained visible as smoke exploded through the memory, just as smoke had exploded on the veranda that fateful night.

Ifeltwhat happened next, as much as I saw it—as though the sword wasalive, absorbing the emotions of its handler. And it felt like a thousand years of hatred rolled into a single movement, an almost unfathomable amount of fury all condensed to a single, powerful thrust. I could sense the moment the sword pierced flesh, too. The warm blood running down the blade, as if it was running down my own arm.

Except, itwasn’tmy blood.

It was my father’s.

His face swam into the vision a heartbeat later. As distorted as everything else, yet the anguish in his expression was painfully clear.

I wanted to look away, to wake up, to escape this horror that I’d already relived a thousand times on my own, in my far-too-clear memories…

Then another person appeared in the vision, holding me in place—

Aleksander.

His hands closed around Luminor’s hilt. Again, I could feel the emotions being channeled through the weapon. Memories of confusion, of shock, of pain. And now I realized he hadn’t been the one to bloody that blade; he was only trying to assess the damage, to make sense of the chaos just as I’d been trying to.

My own face came next. I barely recognized the young woman shining in this dulled mirror of memory. I felt removed from the rage on her shadowed face, far away from her fear and floating somewhere high above.

Or maybe I simply didn’twantto recognize myself.

Because what a fool I’d been.

I’d had enough. My eyes shot open. I stared at Zayn, heaving for breath, still in disbelief in spite of the evidence in front me. The tattoo on his arm was pulsing, its golden light brightest at the center of the circle, just like in the vision. I’d never noticed it before—but maybe I just hadn’t paid close enough attention.

What else had I missed?

So many things I likely could have seen, if only I’d had the courage to open my eyes. But I’d been so afraid to see the truth about Aleksander—so afraid of beingwrongabout him—that I’d completely overlooked the horror standing right next to him.

“See anything interesting?” Zayn asked, with a knowing little smirk.

I swallowed, trying to clear a path for words. “You...you killed him.”

“A murder that was long overdue. He never should have taken you in and gotten himself mixed up in this war. He was a king of the Above—why he agreed to help the Below, I’ll never understand. He paid the price for it, though. And your mother will, too, before I’m finished.”

“…You knew about both worlds all along.”

“Oh, I know much more than that.”

“How?”

He didn’t reply, but the golden light of that symbol on his arm shifted, creating the illusion of movement, making me think of a serpent slinking its way out from underneath the vines it had been hiding amongst.

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