Page 43 of Mostly Shattered

He doesn’t answer. The scent of his spirit is beginning to lighten. Although I can’t be one hundred percent sure, I think he’s gone for now.

I wait for a few minutes, listening to my surroundings before carefully retrieving the book. Someone will come to let me out of the room eventually. All I need to do is wait.

Piling the pillows along my headboard, I make a comfortable nest to read. I flip open the book and see the words,“Fate cannot be changed.”

I turn past the flowery, very detailed troll history lesson—it’s literally like the first two-thirds of the book—to the meat of the prophecy. No matter how many times I went over the words last night, I couldn’t find any actionable clues. Most of it is vague statements and dire warnings. I can only imagine what it would sound like if the blood lock didn’t translate it into something I can supposedly understand. Sure, the words make sense, but for fuck’s sake, wizards.

My book report would read:I have to fix a magic stone somehow, or everyone dies horribly.

Here’s me trying again. Maybe daylight will make it easier to understand.

“A mortal born with immortality lost…”

Okay, I’m relatively sure that means me, the mortal in an immortal family.

“…upon the shattering of the troll magic, the countdown commences, and swift action becomes imperative within four full cycles of the lunar moon.”

Let’s forget for a second that “lunar moon” isredundant. I had to look this one up on my phone, but a moon cycle is roughly equal to a month, or a little less. It’s been over three months since Conrad broke the amulet. That means the clock is ticking. Costin wasn’t being dramatic when he said we needed to get going on this.

“When the destined soul beholds these words, omens shall guide their way to the realm of prosperity.”

I look around the bedroom, not seeing any magical signs. Unless the locked door is one? It’s telling me don’t do it.

“Maybe I’m not the chosen one,” I mutter, turning the page.

“…embracing a power long laid dormant…”

I don’t have any dormant powers. I’ve never had them. That’s the one true fact of my life. Now, suddenly, this book is telling me I need to embrace my supernatural heritage?

Or is it telling me to embrace the evil power that’s been dormant?

Or is it telling me the wizard who wrote this is an asshole?

I vote asshole.

It’s impossible to stay positive considering everything that’s going on.

Oh, and here’s my favorite bit. Feel the sarcasm leaking from my eyeballs.

“In the depths of shadows, foes masquerade asfriends. Their hidden truths poised to unfurl and rend. Tough decisions must be embraced, or a world unmade lest dire fates befall, and all efforts begin to fade.”

What. The. Fuck.

Don’t trust Costin? My grandfather did. He basically sent him to be my life-debted adventure buddy. That means something. Unless this is a test.

Don’t trust Uncle Mortimer? Done.

Don’t trust my future—gag—husband? Never have.

Or is it referring to Conrad’s betrayal? Is it something that already happened that kick-started these events?

I don’t want to be doing this. None of this.

“Behold the shattered fragments in need of mending, where the restless wickedness yearns to be unchained but shall instead be forever tamed.”

Fix amulet. Got it.

Maybe that’s my dormant power? The amulet’s protection. If I fix that, maybe I fix everything.

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