Page 126 of Moonmarked

Betty was going to flip when she heard about this.

“I’m…I’m Nilah,” I said, when she kept her eyes down on that white liquid that really did look like milk diluted with water. It rippled slightly when she moved those old, wrinkled hands about, but nothing else was in it that I could see.

“I know who you are, Lifebound. The question is, doyou?”

The seer looked up at me, her voice so much stronger than I thought it would be. It didn’t waver, and it was far from the whispering she’d been doing at first.

For a second I looked at the door, still open, the room beyond empty. I could get back to it in two seconds if needed. I could run right out of here before she had the chance to do anything to me, the second I felt uncomfortable. And that put me at ease, if only for a little bit.

The fire dancing in the fireplace warming my back, though it was a good distance away, calmed down the racing of my heart, too.

“I’m Nilah Dune, the prince’s mortal Lifebound,” I said, and I sounded a little less afraid already.

The seer looked up at me again, said nothing for a good moment. Allowed me look at her—reallylook at her and see the round shape of her face, the thin hair on her head, the deep, dark eyes that looked like spheres full of secrets when she focused on me, the way she breathed, steadily, slowly. The way her hands moved, the sunspots on her knuckles, the neatly trimmed nails—and most importantly, her energy.

It wassoft.Calm. Not at all like that of the fae, which pressed against my skin, weighed over my shoulders. Hers was just there, like fresh sunlight. Like a slow breeze, just gently letting me know it was there.

A voice in my head insisted that it was all on purpose, premeditated, but I wasn’t sure whether I believed it yet.

“Let’s see, shall we?” the seer finally said, and she offered me her hand over the bowl.

I licked my dry lips. “See what?”

“If that is the truth of you.”

“You…you think it isn’t?”

The seer didn’t even blink when she said, “Not at all.”

Fuck me sideways.What the hell was I supposed to say to that?

My hand shook as I put it over hers.Stupid, stupid Nilah,I chided myself in my head, but I didn’t stop. I shouldn’t have been touching this woman at all, shouldn’t have been in this room to begin with, but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t, not anymore. I was way too curious to know what she would say about me.Ifthere really was an explanation for what the hell went on inside me when I lost control.

Why Maera’s scratch hadn’t shifted me.

Too manywhysthat needed answering for me to back down right now.

The seer wrapped her fingers around my hand and brought the other over it, too. Closed her eyes.

“What—” I started to ask because I wanted to be prepared, but then the pain that sliced open my palm cut me off, and instead I ended up screaming a little.

The seer took back her hand, and with the other turned mine upside down.

A drop of blood fell in the middle of the bowl—and she let go.

My heart pounded against my ribcage. I pulled my hand to my chest, terrified all of a sudden. There was a small cut right in the middle of my palm, like she’d used a knife on me and I hadn’t even seen it.How in the fuck?!

“What the hell? What was that for?” I spit, dragging myself farther from the bowl, trying to understand what the hell had just happened.

“Blood,” the seer said, eyes closed, hands steady over the white liquid—which looked like it was about to startboilingany second now.

“You could have just said so,” I said through gritted teeth, angry now because the cut had been tiny, and it wasn’t even bleeding anymore. It wasn’t painful in the least, but the anger remained.

“What do you need my blood for? What exactly are you doing?” I asked the seer, but she didn’t open her eyes. She didn’t speak, didn’t whisper, didn’t hum—just held her hands over the bowl, and let me ask a few more times while I watched the bubbles rippling on the surface of that liquid.

No sign of my blood in it, though. I thought it would at least turn it slightly pink, but it didn’t.

The seer was silent for a long time, doing nothing but breathing and holding those hands steadily over the bowl. I stopped asking questions eventually, and my own came back to fill my mind like I’d suddenly turned the faucet on for them to spill out.

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