Chapter 18 Premonitions
Premonitions
Find the truth… unlock the past…” I murmur as I wake, the prophecy echoing through the fog clouding my mind.
I’m not sure if I spoke aloud or merely dreamed it, but the moment my eyes open, Mariel’s head lifts from where she sits beside my bed, searching my face with a quiet urgency.
Golden morning spills through my gossamer curtains, painting the stone walls in soft hues.
For a heartbeat, I wonder if I’m still dreaming.
The scent of rosewood lingers from last night’s bath, clean and comforting.
My body still aches, but not as much as before. At least I’m alive. Blessedly alive.
“Look who’s finally risen from the dead!” Cassy grins, practically tripping over herself to get to my bedside, nearly spilling the small tray in her arms. She nudges a plate toward me. “We saved you a roll. And some tea.”
“Yeah, but don’t get used to it,” Mariel adds with a teasing wink, though the shadows beneath her eyes tell a different story—one of worry, of a long night. Has she even slept?
I carefully push myself upright, biting back a groan as my ankle screams in protest. Beneath the banter, something else lingers in the air. Tension. Exhaustion. Relief laced with fear.
“I… Thank you,” I whisper. “For staying.”
Mariel shrugs. “You saved us first,” she says softly.
At the edge of the bed, Cassy’s smile falters. “We were trying to be brave… but if you hadn’t convinced us to jump through that portal, we’d be dead.”
The air thickens with the memory of the maze. I glance between them, and for the first time since that first evening, I see no hint of competition in my companions’ eyes. No calculation. Just care. Just trust. It softens something brittle inside me.
Their eyes are wide as they listen to every detail of what happened after I left them—the fall, the darkness, the lake monster, how the dragon saved me.
Cassy’s head snaps up. “A monster? What lake? Wait—the dragon saved you?”
I nod, still stunned myself. They answer the question that’s been plaguing my mind.
“The void spat us out inside the gardens,” Mariel says, “not into the lake.”
“There’s something else,” I say, hesitating as I take another bite of the buttery biscuit. My hands tremble slightly. “I had a vision.”
That gets their full attention.
I withhold nothing—because I need to trust them. About the water going black. The ice closing in above me. And then the woman, glowing and unreal, her voice coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once.
“She spoke about the curse,” I say. “About the past. And then I saw flashes. The king. A wedding dress on fire. My sister. A rose turning to ash in my palm.” I shake my head. “I don’t know what it meant. But it felt like a warning.”
Mariel leans forward, eyes sharp. “The library.”
“What?” Cassy blurts, her expression mirroring my own confusion.
“If there are answers about the past—about the curse—they’ll be there,” Mariel says. “And that vision coming to you? That wasn’t a coincidence.”
I wince as I shift in bed. “I’m not so sure I want to go back there. I barely made it out last time. One of the books bit me, and its venom was downright vicious. If Marb hadn’t healed me—”
Cassy gasps. “A book bit you?”
“They’ve got fangs,” I say dryly. “It was inked with runes. I almost died.”
She puffs out her cheeks. “That’s horrifying. But… I found a book yesterday. One of the quiet ones. It was just sitting there like it was waiting for me.”
“Did it bite you?” Mariel asks.
“No, thankfully. It just sneezed dust at me.” She shrugs. “I think it liked me. Or pitied me.”
Despite the ache, I smile. For the first time in days, the weight on my chest shifts. The fear isn’t gone—but it has company now, and that makes it easier to bear.
Finally, I ask the question I’ve been avoiding. “How long have I been out?”
“Two days,” Mariel replies. “Mae healed the worst of your wounds, but she made us swear not to leave you alone.”
“We were scared,” Cassy admits. “The first night, you were burning up.”
The emotion in her voice nearly undoes me, but I swallow it down. I’m awake now. And we’re not done yet.
“What about Vivian?” I ask. “Did she—?”
“She’s alive,” Mariel says softly, and relief crashes through me. “Barely. She’s recovering in the east wing.”
“We’re visiting her after breakfast,” Cassy adds. “She loves carrot cake, so I figured I’d sneak her a slice.”
“I want to come,” I say immediately, swinging my legs off the bed.
“Easy,” Mariel warns, steadying my shaking arm. “We’ll go slow.”
Once I’m standing, an awkward silence settles—until Cassy speaks again.
“There’s something else.”
Mariel nods. “The next Trial is about a month away. Maybe less. But until then, we’re each required to spend one day—and one night—with the king. Every week.”
My heart stops. “What?”
“It’s a set rotation,” Mariel says carefully. “You finished first in the Trial, so you choose your day first. After that, the rest of us pick. The only exception is Sunday. He chooses who he wants then.”
“And if I don’t choose?” I ask.
“He chooses for you,” Cassy says softly.
“And you don’t want that,” Marb adds ominously from near the curtains. “Being first to select a day is an honor, Fireling. His favor will serve you well in the coming Trials.”
The room sways—or maybe I do.
First choice. Supposedly, it’s a reward, but it feels more like a gilded collar.
Choose, and I play his game. Refuse, and I hand him power.
I close my eyes, remembering the library. The weight of his presence. The way he looked at me like I already belonged to him.
No. I need space. Distance.
But I also need to be smart.
“You said the King chooses who he wants on Sunday?” I ask.
Mariel nods. “Every week.”
I inhale slowly. “Then we need to go see Vivian. Now.”
The east wing is quieter than the rest of the keep, its hallways drowsy with late-morning light and the perfume of ivy winding through cracked stone windows. Even Marb falls silent as we near a narrow door tucked between two columns overgrown with moss.
Mae is standing watch outside like a shadow in human form, her arms crossed. Her usually sharp presence has softened, but only just. “She’s awake,” she says before we can ask, “but still weak, so don’t stay long.”
“We won’t,” Mariel promises.
Mae steps aside, and Cassy opens the door to find Vivian lying propped against a nest of pillows, her golden hair damp and tangled against her pale cheeks. Her pale eyes flick over to us as we enter, and something flickers in her expression—relief, maybe, or disbelief.
“Hello,” she rasps.
I limp to the edge of her bed, ignoring the lightning bolt that is my ankle. Only when I reach her side do I feel like I can finally breathe. “You’re awake.”
“Unfortunately.” She tries to smile, but it twists into a grimace.
Cassy brings over her tray of breakfast and a carefully balanced glass of water. She sets it down on the bedside table and begins unwrapping a small, delicate dessert plate.
“We brought something,” she says. “Your favorite.”
Vivian stares at the slice of carrot cake for a moment. Her voice softens as she leans back and closes her eyes. “You remembered.”
“Of course I did.” Cassy sets the plate beside her. “Marb even made you a potion.”
“I call it ‘comfort in a cup,’” Marb declares with great pride, hovering overhead like an oversized butterfly. “One drop will ease the pain. Two, and you’ll dream of falling in love.”
Vivian huffs a weak laugh. “I’ll take the former, thanks.”
I reach for her hand. It’s cold. She squeezes my fingers weakly.
“What happened in there?” I ask softly. “Do you remember anything?”
Her eyes open again, but her gaze shifts to the far wall, avoiding mine. “Not much. Cold. Shadows. Something dragging me under. I screamed… and then you guided us through.” Her voice wavers. “You saved me. Saved all of us. Thank you.”
“You would’ve done the same,” I say.
Her eyes sharpen, deadly serious. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
The silence stretches between us. A breeze moves the curtains, but the castle feels far away from us now, like we’ve stepped outside time.
“What happens now?” Vivian whispers. “The fairies won’t tell me anything.”
“Only because we’re trying to ensure your healing,” Vivian’s vibrant blue fairy says primly, fluttering over to fluff her pillow.
Mariel leans forward, her tone hushed but urgent. “There’s going to be another Trial. Soon. A month from now.”
“And until then,” Cassy adds, “we’re each required to spend a full day—and night—with the king.”
Vivian’s brows lift. “Excuse me?”
“It’s on a weekly rotation,” I explain. “We get to choose our day of the week—one day for each of us. Except Sunday. That one’s his choice.”
“And because Fire finished first,” Cassy adds, “she gets to pick first.”
I exhale, the weight of it pressing again on my chest.
Vivian’s eyes narrow. “That sounds more like a setup than a reward.”
“I agree,” I murmur.
“They’re already plotting,” Mariel tells us. “Seraphina’s aiming for Saturday. Elena wants Monday. They think it’ll double their chances of being chosen again on Sunday.”
“They’re ambitious,” Cassy says darkly.
“They’re dangerous,” I say. We glance at Vivian, neither daring to say what we’re all thinking.
Mariel, however, is blunt. “What happened to you wasn’t an accident. We all know it.”
My stomach twists. “If we choose days that threaten their plans, I’m afraid it could put even bigger targets on our backs.”
“But if we let them have their days,” Mariel finishes, “they’ll be too distracted to even notice what we’re really doing.”
I meet her gaze. “Exactly.”
Vivian frowns. “Doing? What are we doing?”
I hesitate. “I had a vision in the lake,” I admit.
Vivian picks at her breakfast, listening silently. Good; she needs her strength.