Page 157 of Of Blood and Banes
I race back to the door and open it to find Bristol, who reports Sethan is demanding my immediate presence. Gavin and Nolan are a few steps behind him, no doubt here to escort Darian off while I chat with Sethan. Gavin and Nolan take Darian with them as Bristol leads me out into the streets and toward the northern part, where Sethan’s temporary residence is.
As I slide my hands into my pockets, a letter of some sort brushes my fingertips. With Bristol a few steps ahead of me and unable to fight against my own curiosity, I tug the paper partially out of my pocket, only to find it’s blank.
Tossing one more cautious glance at Bristol and the townspeople passing us by, I pull the letter completely out of my pocket. It’s folded into a quarter of its size, with both sides blank. A small, dark stain blooms on one corner, smelling an awful lot like whiskey.
With a thundering heart, I unfold the paper to find a stunning depiction of an allium. Each brushstroke of vivid purple petals is precise; elegant shapes any masterful painter would struggle to emulate. And there’s only one person I gave paints to.
I half-crumple, half-fold it and shove it back into my pocket with the heavy feeling like everyone we pass is staring at me. Heat creeps to my cheeks, and I breathe it out before I can linger on it.
Bristol tosses me a glance over his shoulder, far too many steps away. “Is everything alright?”
Swallowing, I nod and begin walking again. I push the gesture to the back of my thoughts and instead attempt to focus on the next task at hand. Bristol drops me off at Sethan’s building, leaving me alone with him.
“You’re two days late,” Sethan grumbles, unwilling to mask his lack of sympathy.
I lift my chin. “I showed up. What do you want?”
He motions for me to take a seat at his desk, and I slide into the chair.
Resting my fingertips on the wooden chair’s arm, I ask, “Did you assume I’d be able to translate that letter you sent me?”
“No. But I figured it might spark your curiosity enough you’d come to me.”
I snort and lean back, crossing my arms over my chest. “Well. You have me. What is it?”
“I’ve shown the elders here in Everden this journal, but they’re suggesting we head down to Nightfort, as there’s another elder there who might be able to decipher it.” He opens Queen Elara’s black journal, spins it, and slides it across the desk toward me.
Even though the journal is facing in my direction, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between it being upside down or right-side up.
He taps his index finger on the page. “But the ones I spoke to here were able to translate this. They interpreted it as saying something about acelestial event.”
“So…that doesn’t give us much.”
“It gives us a timeframe. The prophecy says the realm will be restored by air andnight. The darkest night of the year is during the?—”
“—winter solstice,” I finish on a breath.
“In other words, a celestial event.”
My breath picks up in pace. “Okay…that still gives us a year. That’s next winter?—”
“What did you see when you touched Queen Elara’s body, Katerina?”
I swallow. I hadn’t quite thought about it, and instead was processing Marge’s death. And perhaps I should have—perhaps I should have put my feelings aside and prioritized figuring out what Queen Elara’s memories meant. With a sigh, I recount all her memories as I experienced them, and Sethan’s eyebrows pinch as he leans back in his chair and listens, occasionally nodding and rubbing a hand down his short, gray-stricken beard.
“I…I think Queen Elara was pregnant. I think that’s why her dress was shredded—not because she had been mutilated. But because someone tried to save her baby,” I whisper quietly, my eyes falling to the journal filled with entries beyond my own comprehension. “And if they did, they would have had to save that baby with Vue’s dragonblood.”
“Creating a hybrid,” Sethan confirms. “Part human, part dragon.”
I glance up at him. “You…already suspected?”
“Yes, I had a theory. And I believe you’re right. I think Cyrus was the son of Queen Elara. In the Gods’ language, Cyrus’s name translates to ‘sun.’”
“But how would he be a hybrid instead of a Spoiled?”
Sethan laces his fingers together and rests his mouth against it, his eyes distant. Finally, he says quietly, “Because they used a sun dragon’s blood. Think about how overpowering the blood ofsuch a rare dragon would be in a newborn. It would taint their fresh human blood and likely bind to it. And if it subdued his human blood, he could have essentially been more dragon than man.”
The theory slaps me in the face with a force that stings my cheeks. I shake my head, because if I’m Cyrus’ granddaughter, and he was Queen Elara’s son…
