Chapter Thirty-Four Wren #2
A woman with dark hair and olive skin—one of the three I’d seen—carried a bundle in her arms. A cloak hid most of her features as she raced through the streets of the Void.
A scream pierced the vision, a baby’s cry.
The woman glanced down, softly shushing the small child and rubbing its brow.
Her steps didn’t waver as she sprinted to a stone building with several cracks running up the sides.
A worn placard was affixed to the building: Andalay Home for Boys and Girls.
“I’m sorry, little one,” she murmured, blue eyes wet with tears that didn’t fall.
“I can’t let them find you. They’ll make me kill you.
” She ran a finger across the babe’s cheek.
From a new angle, I saw its features with more clarity, gasping as dark, glacial gray eyes stared up at the woman with trust. “One day you’ll know when to find me. Just follow the light.”
She bent down and set the child on the top step.
Rapping loudly on the door, she waited a few heartbeats before scurrying away to a nearby alley, watching as a stern-faced woman appeared and frowned at the wrapped bundle.
With a curse, the stranger picked up the now screaming child and slammed the door.
Pain shot across my chest, my skin burning. I felt warmth and wetness slide down my cheeks, but the visions still came, not allowing me to return to my body.
A palace. The ivory palace of the Fates. I moved, seeming to float downward, beneath the building itself. I wanted to scream, wanted to break free of this vision, but it held on tight with claws that left behind invisible scars.
The Fates sat before a long table crafted of stone, two of them smiling as the familiar dark-haired woman frowned. Doors opened in the windowless room, three men wheeling in three carts. Atop each one lay a body. Dead.
The woman in the middle licked her pink lips, her ethereal beauty turning cruel as she grabbed the sides of her chair, nails digging into the wood.
Dawn. I recognized her from the portraits, and she sat beside…
she sat beside Day—her silver-gray eyes narrowed and focused on the bodies delivered to her feet.
The woman who looked away from the dead was Dusk.
The very same woman who’d left her child on the steps of an orphanage.
I would’ve given anything to close my eyes then, to hide from the gruesome attack that ensued, but in this state, I only screamed as the women ripped into the bodies and felt around, the noise of deadened insides squelching.
Day popped up first, her hand filled with a dulled silver light. Opening wide, she placed the orblike object into her mouth and swallowed, a too-wide grin stretching. Her body shook as her skin grew radiant, her sunshine hair more lustrous.
Dawn pulled her silver light next, swallowing greedily, coral eyes shuttering. She, too, transformed, her already stunning features turning lethal.
“Go on,” Day urged Dusk. “We won’t have more until next week.”
Dusk ground her teeth as she rose from her seat and plunged her hand into an older woman’s corpse. Her hands wrapped around the same light—a soul, I realized.
When she swallowed it, a heartbroken expression crossed her face, even as she, too, became ethereal. Magical.
“We’ll need more,” Dawn said, slumping in her seat, unaffected by the horrific act she’d committed. “They’re wearing off more quickly, and the lords have been behind on their deliveries recently. We’re weakening by the second.”
“I’ve scheduled another batch, don’t worry, sister,” Day cooed, and my insides boiled.
“I’ve arranged a few shipments this time from across the continent to avoid suspicion.
No one will suspect anything is amiss in Andalay.
Besides, we require the upper-class fools to be happy so they continue giving us what we need.
” She looked nothing like the spring goddess I’d once adored.
Even her outward beauty couldn’t disguise her as anything less than a monster.
Faintly, I felt the weight of the locket against my palm. I’d clutched it so hard before, not knowing I would be thrown into this nightmare. As the scene changed, I attempted to pry my fingers from the cold metal, managing to free two.
Almost there.
When the third finger was released, I paused, struck by the sight of Damien.
He stood outside my home before using his mirror and vanishing.
A moment later, one of the Fates’ onyx hounds bounded down the street.
I pried a fourth finger free, more warmth covering my cheeks as I watched Damien pry my gift from the dog’s mouth.
He smiled. A satisfied grin I’d not seen him wear. It sickened me.
When the last finger ripped free, the locket fell, and I slumped backward, falling forward into time.
I couldn’t catch my breath, could hardly see in the dim room. All I smelled was that damned floral perfume.
“See anything interesting, little bird?” a voice asked.
I didn’t have it in me to turn. I’d known for hours who I’d find.