Page 59 of Broken Star

Every bone in my body wants to getout—to get back onto solid ground. But I swallow the fear and focus.

“Go ahead,” Circe tells us. “Speak your questions. The spirits of the Underworld will hear, and the one most suited to answer will rise from the pit and share their knowledge.”

Before I can speak, Riven steps forward, his eyes gleaming in the silvery light.

“I am Prince Riven Draevor of the Winter Court and the Summer Court,” he states, his voice commanding even in this otherworldly place. “And I seek knowledge of the Star Disc, forged by the goddess Celeste. Where can it be found, and how do we get there?”

The mist churns, swirling faster, until it begins to part.

From its depths rises a silvery, softly glowing figure—an elderly man cloaked in flowing, tattered robes. When he lifts his head, there’s nothing where his eyes should be. Only empty sockets, hollow and knowing.

“Tiresias,” Circe says softly, her eyes widening with recognition. “The Blind Prophet of Thebes.”

The prophet tilts his head, as if listening to distant voices only he can hear.

Riven and I say nothing as we wait for him to speak.

“The Star Disc dwells where celestial forces meet mortal waters,” the prophet finally says, his words vibrating through the air around us. “The Cosmic Tides, where stars meet the sea and time forgets itself.”

Riven’s brow furrows slightly. “We need more specific directions,” he says, sounding urgent—like he’s afraid the prophet will disappear without giving us what we need.

“The Cosmic Tides,” Tiresias continues, his milky eyes finding Riven’s despite his blindness, “exist where the currents flow between worlds. It’s a sea that’s not a sea—a vortex where the past, present, and the future fold into one.”

A shudder rolls through me.

These Tides donotsound like an ideal vacation destination.

“Sail the path between the Lonely Star Fomalhaut and the Navigator’s Star Canopus,” he continues. “It will lead you to the Charydian Rift—the gateway to the Cosmic Tides. But be warned that the Tides do not obey the laws of mortals, supernaturals, or even the gods. They are older than the realms. Older than memory itself.”

“And once we’re there?” Riven asks, pushing further. “How do we retrieve the Star Disc?”

“Survive the Tides, and the Disc will burn through the sky,” the prophet replies. “But the Cosmic Tides test more than courage or strength. They test the essence of who you are. They strip away every illusion and lie you tell yourself, until only the unvarnished truth remains. Many have entered seeking power or knowledge, but few emerge as the same person who dared to step inside.”

He fades at the edges, becoming more transparent with each passing second.

“May the Fates guide your celestial journey,” he adds. “And remember—sometimes the greatest dangers come not from the outside, but from within.”

With that, he disappears into the mist, although the silvery vapor continues to swirl.

I stare at the space where he stood in shock.

Becausethatwasn’t ominous or anything.

Circe toys with more fire in her fingertips, looking to me, yanking me out of my thoughts. “Your turn, Princess,” she says, the word not sounding as mockingly taunting coming from her as it does from Riven.

“You’ve got this,” the offending prince himself assures me.

“I know.” I narrow my eyes at him for assuming Ididn’tthink I could do this—just like he didn’t think I could handle sacrificing the pig.

He simply holds my gaze in challenge, and I step forward, my heart pounding as I focus on the misty pit of death in front of me.

“I’m Princess Sapphire Hayes Fairmont Solandriel Draevor of the Summer Court, the Winter Court, the New York Vampire Clan, and the star touched warrior of Celeste,” I say into the abyss. And while the long-winded title is—and will always be—a mouthful, it doesn’t feelquiteas horrible as it did the first time I heard it.

Probably because I’m the one speaking it—not Riven.

“I seek knowledge of my best friend, Zoey Madison, who was taken by the Night Court,” I continue. “I need to know how I can rescue her.”

The mist churns, shadows stretching and twisting within it as the whispers grow louder and more frantic.

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