Chapter 16
Revna
S?ren spent the next hour preparing. His words, not mine. I thought we were wasting time.
He insisted on going into the forge and lighting the fire.
Bringing in our saddlebags and unpacking a dry change of clothes to heat up while we were gone.
The mare was covered in a thick blanket to keep her comfortable, but S?ren allowed her to roam free so she could graze to her heart’s desire while we were occupied.
He even grabbed his knives and pulled out some of the leftover game we’d brought with us from last night, ready to cook when we got back.
Meanwhile, nerves scratched up around my throat like long fingers. “Stop it,” I finally snapped. “If we don’t do this now, we aren’t doing it at all. Come on.”
Now we stood on the ice, snow cleared away and our reflections staring back at us. I couldn’t help but glance back in the direction of the shore. I almost expected to see a shadowed figure waving at me, like I had in my dreams.
When S?ren hefted the serrated blade he’d unpacked from the saddlebags earlier, my mind flashed to the boy I’d seen falling beneath the surface. The metal bit into the ice, severing it easily. The sound shouldn’t have been familiar.
“I dreamt about this lake, I think,” I murmured. I didn’t expect S?ren to hear me over the sound, but I needed to say the words. They’d lived too long alone in my mind. The thought threatened to lap over my head like a frigid wave of water.
But S?ren’s movements stopped briefly before starting again. “You have?”
Water lapped over the edge of the ice, where a small gap had been created. “Or a lake just like it. I don’t know.” I shook my head. “The dreams are the same story—Callum falling in and Aloisa diving after him.”
“Huh.” He grunted as he pulled the knife through the last part of the ice, leaving a floating mass of ice in the center. I watched him take out another instrument, one with a hooked barb on the end, and use it to pull the floating ice out. “That’s…”
S?ren ran a hand through his hair, breathing heavy. I tried not to stare as I said, “It’s strange. And everything feels strange right now.”
“Yes,” he said. “Makes it difficult to know if there are things we should be paying closer attention to or if it’s all in our heads.”
I took off my cloak, then stooped to unlace my boots. “Perhaps I’ll ask the god when I meet them.”
He didn’t miss the wry note in my voice. “I hope that woman wasn’t lying,” he said, laughing. Probably at the absurdity of the situation.
“How far do I need to swim before I’ll see it? Will I only have a few seconds to speak to it?” As I spoke, my teeth began chattering. I undid my braid and wrapped the hair into a tight bun, securing it with the same strip of worn leather as before.
S?ren didn’t answer immediately, and when I glanced at him, his mouth hung slightly ajar, the gray of his eyes nearly disappeared into dark pupils.
I looked over my shoulder, wondering what he’d seen, but there was nothing there.
He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I’m not sure, honestly.
If the story can be believed, then Aloisa had plenty of time to speak with it.
Swim as far as you can and see what you find.
I’ll keep my eyes on your soul threads and pull you out.
Ask the important questions first, just in case. ”
I shook my arms out, as if that would help the nerves or the cold.
It didn’t. I stepped out of my boots and pulled off my gloves.
I wasn’t willing to strip all the way down in such frigid temperatures—or with S?ren watching.
Just before I steeled myself to launch into the dark depths, S?ren grabbed my arm.
I raised a brow. The expression on his face was some combination of panic and desperation. But he gritted his teeth and released me. “Be careful.”
I didn’t want to think about how much I longed for him to pull me into his chest and warm me up again.
Didn’t want to ruminate on the fire he’d lit to make sure I’d be warm when I returned from speaking with a possible deity.
And I definitely didn’t want to linger on the way his fingers had wrapped around my arm with a crushing grip and yet still managed to convey care instead of anger.
I hate him, I reminded myself instead.
And then I dove.
Any less discipline and my breath would have escaped me entirely the moment my body connected with the water.
Every inch of my skin screamed. My fingers and toes were numb instantly, and my heartbeat sped, working overtime to keep me from freezing immediately. Muscle memory kicked in swiftly, and I pulled my hands through the water in front of me, forcing myself down into the depths.
I couldn’t see anything. How was I supposed to be on the lookout for something magical, other, godly even, if nothing was visible?
My eyes stung with the rush of water, and before long I closed them, telling myself I’d open them to peer into the depths.
As the seconds ticked by, I began losing what air I’d sucked into my lungs.
Fear gripped me. I forced myself to keep swimming down even as my arms and legs stiffened.
I couldn’t feel my fingers or my toes. At this rate, I wouldn’t be able to continue swimming for much longer.
Maybe S?ren is trying to kill me, I thought. This is a terrible way to die.
I forced my eyes open for a moment and looked around me. And still, nothing but darkness. No mystical presence, no all-knowing being.
Did I trust S?ren’s absurd story enough to keep going? Did I want to know the truth of the prophecy this badly?
Just as I was about to turn around and force myself upward to give him the chastisement of his life, the water vanished.
I blinked. One moment I’d been fighting for my life in the cold darkness. And the next, I was warm and dry and standing…
Where the hell am I?
I looked around, uncertain what exactly I was looking at. There seemed to be endless nothing stretching around me in every direction. My feet rested on a solid surface, but the area had no walls or roof. There was no ceiling visible, but also no sky—just white expanse.
I was utterly alone.
“Hello?” I called. My voice echoed slightly, and I frowned.
Blinding light began to gather in front of me. It collected in a small pool of gold at my feet, pulling in on itself to grow taller and taller. I stared for as long as I could before my eyes began to burn and I was forced to shield them.
“Hello.”
The voice was one and yet many, everything and yet nothing. I separated my fingers to peek out at the thing standing before me. It was shaped like a person, but made entirely of threads, just like the ones that connected me to the heartbeats I heard. The same strings I used to puppeteer my victims.
It stood with its hands behind its back, head tilted slightly. It was the exact same height as me, no taller or shorter, and it had no defining features—faceless, expressionless.
My plans for asking questions flew from my mind. The only thing I could think to say was, “What are you?”
It took a small half bow, sweeping out a hand. “We are the Tapestry.”
I crossed my arms, suddenly wary. “And what does that mean?”
“It means we are everything that was and everything that is,” it replied simply.
Not helpful. “Are you a god?”
It sounded amused. “We suppose it depends on your definition of ‘god.’ ” Before I could interrupt, it continued, “ ‘God’ is the closest word you have for what we are. But we are short on time, and there is little point to arguing semantics. You are here with questions, are you not, young Bloodsinger?”
I stiffened. It knew who I was. But S?ren’s reminder to ask the most important questions while I could echoed in my mind, and I pushed my hesitancy aside.
“There is a prophecy. About me, and a man called the Hellbringer. It was given by a Seeing One named Tam hundreds of years ago. I need to hear it.”
“And what do you intend to do with the knowledge once you have received it?” The Tapestry sounded curious.
I answered honestly. “I’m not sure. My hope is that it will provide some answers about why the Queen of Kryllian has taken an interest in me and reveal how she came to learn of my Lurae before I did.”
I waited for the follow-up questions, but the Tapestry had none. Instead, it simply said, “We can sense the truth in you, Revna Bloodsinger. And we will grant your request.”
The Tapestry disappeared, and the emptiness around me flooded with color.
It was like my dreams. Instead of watching from a distance, I existed in the vision.
My traveling clothes had been replaced by older, thicker ones, clearly handcrafted.
Cold scratched at the edges of my awareness, but I was too focused and too eager to pay attention to it.
I paced back and forth, torches illuminating the room around me.
What were a few frozen fingers when compared to the culmination of everything I’d spent years working toward?
I tried to gasp when I recognized where I was, but the body I inhabited didn’t move. The prison. Where I spent all that time training with S?ren.
In the vision, it looked far different from the version of the prison I’d known. Torches flickered from their places on the walls, and there was no dust on the floor. The cell bars were polished and new, rust nowhere to be seen.
Who am I? I wondered. But I had no control over this vision. I experienced the world in front of me like I was her, whoever she was.
Someone coughed weakly from within the cell before me.
I stepped forward and wrapped one pale hand around a bar.
The frigid metal bit into my palm. “Well?” I barked.
My voice was haggard and rough from disuse.
I knew intrinsically how rarely I spoke to others these days. “Are you ready to speak the prophecy?”