Grim
He began in the winter palace. Isla had been injured by that creature in the maze. He remembered the book she had with her.
The book of skyres.
It wasn’t hard to find it in his castle, right where she had left it. At first he thought the pages were blank, but then he realized there was an enchantment on them. He sighed impatiently, flipping over and over, until intricate shapes began to form.
It only showed a few symbols at a time, in pieces, and he couldn’t make sense of any of them. This was an art that had been mostly lost . . .
He barely contained the urge to turn the book—and the rest of his library—to ash.
None of this was useful. But he knew of someone who might know. Someone his wife had visited several times, in her attempts to find and open the portal.
The augur startled as Grim portaled right through his waterfall of blood. He took in Grim’s massive form and his jagged mouth curved into a smile that showcased his sharpened teeth. “Ruler. Of course.”
A moment later, the augur was pinned against the wall by Grim’s shadows. But the creature only smiled wider. “I know why you’re here. It wasn’t that long ago when you came to me with a vial of your own blood, asking if you had been cursed . . . It was because you had fallen for her, wasn’t it?”
After Grim had met Isla, he thought he was losing his mind.
He couldn’t sleep, instead spending night after night at her bedside, cloaked in shadow, watching the gentle rise and fall of her breath while she dreamed.
She infected his every waking thought. It had to have been a Wildling trap, there was no explanation.
But he was wrong.
“Because of you,” Grim said to the creature, “my wife is across the universe.” His shadows sharpened, their tips a breath away from painting the wall with the creature’s blood.
The augur’s bottomless pit eyes only seemed to swirl darker red. “No, no . . . that was you . . . She never would have needed to leave, if she hadn’t ever met you.”
The creature’s words knocked the breath from him.
Was he right?
Grim worked his jaw. That didn’t matter now. What mattered was getting her back. “You taught my wife about skyres, didn’t you?”
The augur nodded.
“Tell me everything you taught her.”
The augur peered over at him. He tilted his skeletal head. “I wonder . . . if you knew you were hurtling toward your doom . . . would you still run so quickly toward the abyss?”
Grim didn’t have time for these riddles. But since the augur seemed unconcerned with his shadows, he played along. “If the abyss was her . . . then yes.”
“Interesting . . .” he said. “Fate is fragmented. Split in half . . . I wonder if the king feels the same way . . .”
Oro loved Isla—that was clear. But Grim knew the king had a moral compass they did not share. That was the difference between them.
It was why he belonged with Isla.
“I can’t help you with a skyre to get to the otherworld and your wife . . .” the augur said. “But when you get to Cronan’s world . . . you will need one to help you survive.”
“Why?” he demanded.
“Cronan is a void. He can remove power, just like enchanted shademade metal—but stronger. You’ll need a way to get around it.”
“How?” Grim asked.
“He has a skyre. One he uses to amplify his power. If you carved it into your skin with a powerful object . . . you would maintain your abilities.”
Grim blinked. His ever-present concern for his wife flared. “Did you tell my wife this?”
The augur shook his head.
He portaled in front of the creature, curling his fist around his thin, papery throat. “Why not?”
“I did not know.”
“How do you know now?” Grim asked.
The augur tilted his head. “She told me.”
“Who?” His wife?
“The silver girl. The one who sees,” the augur said. “She speaks in a wordless language, and some of us are able to listen. She sees more and more as the days go on . . .”
Grim didn’t know what this creature was sputtering on about. He didn’t care, unless it helped him get to his wife. “Has this girl seen anything to help Isla?”
“Only this,” the augur said.
“What is Cronan’s skyre?” Grim demanded.
The augur lifted a shoulder. “No one knows. You can imagine he kept it secret. But you’re of his blood . . . if anyone can figure it out, it’s you.”
“What do I use, to make it?” he asked. Isla had Cronan’s sword. There were other ancient relics, but he didn’t know of any nearly as powerful.
“The same one your wife did.”
Grim shook his head. “The god-bone is gone.” She took that with her too.
“Not the god-bone,” the augur said.
And that was when Grim remembered that Isla had left something behind.
The feather. The one with the sparkling tip.
“Thank you,” Grim said. His shadows released the augur.
And he portaled back to the winter palace to get it.