THIRTEEN #3
“And . . . ‘she has already begun reaching for him.’” Fear rises fast in my throat. “Do you mean Thane? Is the Shadeheart coming for Thane?!”
Mirelle searches my face carefully. “Did I speak the name of the shadowed one?”
“No,” Rian answers before I can. His breathing has steadied now, though tension still lines his face. “But we saw her.”
He opens his eyes. His ocean-blue gaze locks onto mine, their certainty as unnerving as it is absolute.
“She’s stronger than before.” His voice rasps. “And she’s coming.”
A gasp comes from my left, and I know it’s Lyra.
Mirelle releases my hands and covers her mouth.
“Oh no.”
All the brightness drains from her voice, like someone snuffed the warmth from her all at once.
“When is she coming?” I ask urgently. “Is it soon? And is she reaching for the Warlord?”
Mirelle’s hands fall to her sides.
“I don’t know,” she admits, shaking her head. “The visions don’t always say when. It could be tomorrow. It could be months—or even years—from now.” Her mouth tightens. “That’s another problem with these bloody visions.”
A loud thump rattles the wall, followed by shouting and laughter outside.
Lyra yelps and I jump.
A moment later, Kieran pushes open the door. His brows rise slightly at the sight of Rian slumped against the wall, but he says nothing.
“It was just some kids playing ball in the square,” he explains. “The ball hit the wall. We told them to move along.”
His gaze sweeps over the room once more: Lyra standing rigid with a scarf still clutched in one hand, Mirelle looking smaller than ever, Rian pale and exhausted, sitting on the floor.
His eyes finally settle on me. Something in his expression tightens, as if he can read every thought on my face. He looks back at Rian, gives a short nod, then steps back outside, pulling the door shut behind him.
Rian grunts as he pushes himself to his feet. I grab one of his arms while Lyra takes the other. Together, we pull him to his feet. Once upright, he braces a hand against the wall.
“Mirelle,” he says, still sounding strained, “you said the shadows were probing. Could it mean they’re searching for weaknesses in the wards? Weak points we haven’t discovered yet?”
The old woman looks stricken.
“I am so sorry, but I do not know.” She shakes her head.
“This is why I got out of the seeing business and started selling trinkets. Everyone always wants to know when and how and why, but I could never give them answers. The visions come, but I often don’t understand what they mean.
” Her lips press into a thin line. “It takes a certain kind of heart to stay in that work. I don’t have the capacity to carry the disappointment of the person receiving the vision. ”
She glances away briefly.
“And half the time, the visions don’t even come for the person asking.”
Her fingers rise to the silver seashell hanging at her throat, rubbing it between them. She closes her eyes for a moment. When she opens them again, there is a steadier focus in her gaze.
“The visions tend to reveal what is not already known,” she says carefully. “So if you already know the wards are weakening, and that the Shadow Forces have broken through in places . . . ”
A pause.
“Then this must be somewhere new.”
Rian drops his hand from the wall and takes a small step forward. Though he still looks drained, he’s stable on his feet again.
“That is very helpful, Mirelle. Thank you.” His voice is calm and measured once more. “I’ll make sure the Warlord and council hear of this.” A small smile touches his mouth. “Seems we walked into the right shop today.”
Mirelle smiles, some of the warmth returning to her expression. “Of course! I am always in service to the Warlord.”
“Mirelle,” Rian continues smoothly, “I could use some help finding a gift for my mother. And I believe Lyra was interested in a scarf?”
Lyra immediately straightens. “The soft blue one with the silver fringe.”
Mirelle lights up. “Oh! Excellent choice!”
Just like that, the tension in the room eases. Somehow, Rian always knows how to pull people back from fear before it settles too deeply.
Rian turns to me. “Amara, why don’t you let Kieran and the others know we will be out shortly.”
I shoot him a grateful look, suddenly desperate for air after everything that just happened.
“Thank you, Mirelle. For everything.”
“Today is a blessed day. Today, I got to meet and assist the Spiritborn,” she replies, her eyes twinkling once more.
When I step outside, the sunlight feels too harsh after the dimness of the shop and I lift my hand to shield my eyes.
A shadow moves into my path. I lower my hand and find blue-silver eyes staring at me intently.
“What the fuck happened in there?” Kieran asks.
“Just give me a minute,” I mutter, before leaning back against the wall. “I’ll tell you everything.”
And I do.
Except that part about the Shadeheart possibly reaching for Thane. Kieran would have too many questions I cannot answer. Too many questions that could lead too close to the truth of Thane’s bloodline.
And no one can know that.