Page 129 of Forged in Flame and Shadow

Morgana

The safehouse is small, a cottage tucked in between two much taller buildings on a street on the outskirts of Kestis. Most people don’t notice it as they pass, their eyes sliding from one large storefront to another, unaware of the secrets kept inside the little house.

Right now, one of those secrets is me, pacing impatiently up and down the dusty kitchen floor.

“Will you please stand still?” Mal groans. “Stomping around won’t make the others arrive any faster.”

“Why aren’t they here yet?” I ask, trying not to sound too panicked. “They shouldn’t be taking this long.”

“There’s many, non-fatal reasons they might have gotten held up,” Alastor says, but I can see on his face he isn’t fully convinced. It’s not like Alastor to sugar-coat things like this. The loss of Eryx has hit him hard. After so many years fighting beside each other, I imagine it’s hard to accept that he’s really gone.

“We should go back out there,” I say, wringing my hands. “Go find them.” I don’t think either of us can face the idea of losing anyone else today.

“Absolutely not,” says the rebel with the affinity for rabbits. “Harman told us that once we got the codex, our priority was it and your safety. Neither can leave until he’s here.”

From the stubborn look on her face, it’s clear she won’t accept any arguments. After everything that’s happened today, I reallydon’t want to fight anyone else. I sag against a kitchen counter, reliving the moment when I turned and saw Eryx’s dead body.

“He didn’t say anything aboutmysafety,” Alastor says.

I look up at him hopefully. The blond fae stands, meeting my gaze.

“I can go and try to find out what’s happened,” he says. “You stay here with the codex.”

“You can’t go on your own,” Mal says, jumping up. “I’ll come with you.”

Alastor raises an eyebrow, but nods. “You do owe me.” He then turns and squeezes my shoulder. “I won’t come back without them,” he says, low enough that only I hear the promise.

I nod, trying to shove down my rising dread at the thought of letting another of my friends out of my sight. The pair go, leaving me with a handful of rebels and the book we’ve fought so hard for. I clutch the codex to me, feeling the grooves where the cord has cut into its ancient leather surface.

Was it worth it? Can Atolus really tell us something that will make losing Eryx acceptable?

There’s only one way to find out.

I slip into a back room of the cottage for some privacy, settling down on the lumpy bed in the corner.

My hands shaking slightly, I untie the cord and ease the heavy book open, reading the first line I see.

The hawk of many faces will fly west when it eclipses the young sun.

I blink at it. Is that a prophecy, or some kind of riddle? The words are written in black ink, formed with wonky, curling handwriting. It looks like someone scribbled the thought down in a hurry. Below it is another similarly cryptic phrase, this time written in blue ink with a different quill, if the splotches on the letters are anything to go by.

Filusia’s hand will shield the traveler’s blessing, though not from Siga’s falling tears.

It goes on like that, pages and pages of strange pronouncements, sometimes using symbols, sometimes obscure names and references to lesser gods. How could anyone make sense of the meaning, let alone find a specific piece of information they’re looking for? Fear nags at me as I start to question if we’ve been tricked after all. Could this really be the source of Caledon’s big, powerful secret? Something worth killing for?

I go to close the book, then my eye spots a gap along the edge—a point where one of the pages has been folded over at the corner. I go to it, spotting the creased edges and slight smudges on the parchment. This page has been handled more often than the others.

One word immediately jumps out at me:Palquir. I rush to read on.

A daughter of Palquir will hide the power of the gods in the land of the crown, where it will grow to untold strength.

I stop breathing, the hairs on my neck standing on end. Unlike the other prophecies, I understand this one perfectly.

Because it’s about me.

The power of the gods—celestial power. A daughter of Palquir—my mother, surely. Elowen was the first daughter to be born in his line after him. And the land of the crown? That must be the royal territories, the ones Caledon was eager to search for this source of celestial power.

Where it will grow to untold strength.

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