Page 49

“It is.” Navin tilted his head, squinting, as if trying to figure out how to explain something so complicated to me. “But the killing is only the spark; without the creation of dark magic by the humans, there’d be no kindling for the flame. Without the creation of more monsters, there’d be no more dark magic in the ether for anyone to claim.”

“You’re saying if Rasil’s grandfather hadn’t conjured that monster, then Sawyn would’ve never existed? Olmdere would still be whole?”

“Yes.”

“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” I groaned, fanning myself with the music sheets. “And the Songkeepers?”

“There are so few of us left,” Navin said. “There was a time when only one human in all of Aotreas still knew the eternal songs. Her name was Nahliel.” He passed me a charcoal sketch and I recognized the shape instantly: Galen den’ Mora.

“Ora’s grandmother?”

“She made it her life’s work to travel the continent and find those who still contained the spark of magic needed to wield songs. When she died, she wished for Galen den’ Mora and her line still takes up the mantle of finding new Songkeepers all around the continent.”

I scrutinized the sketch in my hands—a simple line drawing of Galen den’ Mora high on a mountaintop. “How can you know who has this magic?”

“Little tests,” he said. “Most of us never knew we possessed it. Most of us didn’t even know such magic existed. We didn’t realize the songs we’d sing for protection, for courage, for healing actually had power. I never knew my affinity for music was a gift from the Gods, nor did I know what I could do with it. There was a Songkeeper who rolled into our village, playing her music, and Rasil, my brother, and I all took to it straightaway. When I fled with my father, Rasil came with us. He took me to Valta, reunited us with grandparents he’d never known. It was here we found out Rasil came from a long line of Songkeepers. It was here that I met Ora.” Navin stared down at his boots and rubbed the back of his neck. “If only my brother came with us.”

I stiffened. “Your brother?” It dawned on me all at once. “This is the secret you wanted him to take to his grave.”

Navin’s eyebrow arched. “Could you imagine if Sawyn got her hands on this magic? If she could conjure new monsters at will? If she could control them? If she could create an army of fellow sorcerers?”

“She would’ve destroyed all of us,” I said breathlessly. “Soyoucan do all these things? You can create monsters?”

“I have the power to, though I don’t know the specific song to conjure and control monsters. That song is kept in averyhard to access place so as not to tempt those who would use it for less than honorable reasons. It was hidden in plain sight, secreted away for safekeeping after what Rasil’s grandfather did. I have never created a monster and will never try,” Navin said decidedly. “I won’t bring more dark magic into this world. I won’t curse this land with more sorcerers.” His eyes grew vacant again, and I knew he was going back to Olmdere as a child, reliving the tyranny of Sawyn all over again. “But I know where to find the eternal songs, yes.”

“And Ora knows where to find them, too?” My eyes darted from one map to the other, landing on the detailed drawing of Damrienn. “Do you think the Silver Wolves know?”

“I think they know something. How much, I have no idea. If they know that the humans have a secret that could help them rule the entire continent if they could just unlock it,” he said, “it would destroy the world.”

“How many of you are there now?”

“You met most of them during the battle in Olmdere castle.”

My eyes widened remembering the flurry of badges during the melee. “They were all Songkeepers?”

Navin nodded. “Ora had been summoning them every night since Calla set sights on Olmdere. Those songs Ora sang through the night were meant to call them home.”

I racked my brain, remembering the tunes and ballads Ora would sing as we drifted off to sleep each night. I began to question every song I heard coming from them. What other powers could they wield? Was every moment with them an illusion? A manipulation?

“I just don’t understand why?” I looked all around, scanning the ornate library. “That is one part I still can’t comprehend.Whywould Ora summon your entire order into battle to help aWolf?”

Navin sighed, wandering from the table and dropping down into one of the upholstered leather chairs. “There is a divide amongst the Songkeepers now.” He steepled his fingers and pressed them to his lips. “Those like Ora who want a world where Wolves and humans live side by side. Equals. Where we acknowledge that Wolves did save us long ago but that they hurt us now and perhaps there needs to be a balance, a harmony between us. No one bowing to the other anymore.” His lips pursed and he looked at me. “And then there are those like Rasil and his grandfather.”

“And what does Rasil want?”

Navin’s eyes darkened. “To use whatever magic necessary for the world to revert back to a time when Wolves didn’t exist here at all.”

Calla

By the third day, Briar had stopped asking to leave Taigoska and go after Maez. According to Briar, Maez was dealing with her grief at the bottom of every available wine bottle in Sankai-ed. Sadie and Navin hadn’t reappeared, and Maez didn’t know how to get Galen den’ Mora on the move again. The oxen apparently weren’t budging. Briar had tried to encourage Maez to buy a horse and ride back to Taigos, but Maez wasn’t responding well to her efforts. Leaving meant giving up hope that Sadie was still alive.

I felt devastated for my sister. Even as I mourned, at least I could do it with Grae by my side. My sister seemed desperate to comfort her mate, but now, with everything we knew about Briar’sengagementto Evres, I wasn’t letting my twin out of my sight. If Sadie’s family was hunting for her, they’d be all too keen to snap up Briar, too.

I stared at my sister’s reflection as she stood in front of the full-length mirror. I lounged on her bed, eating a bowl of candied almonds just like I had the day of her failed wedding to my now mate. Grae, Hector, and Mina played a Taigosi board game in the corner of Briar’s suite—a game none of them seemed to fully understand the rules of.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” Briar asked the trio, as Hector knocked over a carved stone wolf from Mina’s square.

Hector frowned down at his fighting leathers. “We are.”