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Her heart thumped erratically behind her ribs. That voice from the oasis had followed her to Raj’s Point, haunting every corner of her mind. She’d first heard it the day they’d found Tezrus. It was a meaningless enchantment of the oasis, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to tell Saoirse. After berating Rook for not being vulnerable and for hiding his emotions, she should’ve taken her own advice. They’d all heard phantom voices in the oasis, hadn’t they? The spectral voice that whispered to her that day was surely no different than what Noora and Saoirse had heard. She shouldn’t take the hypnotic words of some trivial oasis to heart, but they tormented her nonetheless. She didn’t know what they meant. She didn’t want to know.

When Rook told her of the strange dreams he was having, she didn’t feel quite so insane. But unlike Rook, who seemed to glimpse a different vision every night, she always had the same nightmare. It never changed. It started in the light of the moon and ended in a tomb of silent darkness, black tears blinding and choking her.

Your death is the price to pay?—

Aurelia slipped out of her bedroll. She pulled on her leather boots and strode briskly across the snow-dusted room. She stood in the doorway, taking in the sunrise that bloomed along the frigid waters of the Nix Sea. A veil of snow draped across the barren landscape, blindingly white.

Rook hadn’t returned in days. Deep within her bones, she knew something was terribly wrong. She waited helplessly for days on end, trying to think of a solution. She couldn’t take off for Terradrin alone, Rook had proven as much. But what else could she do?

Last night, as she bit her fingernails into nubs before the blazing hearth, she’d decided to leave for the Isles of Mythos and rejoin with Sune. There, she’d be able to form a plan with other members of Hasana’s rebellion and make sense of the crumbling plan. She was tired of inaction and the suspense threatened to break her resolve.

She started over to where the winged horses were stabled, boots tracking through the snow. The shock of cold air cleared her head. Just as she did every morning since arriving in the skeletal harbor of Raj’s Point, she scanned the glacial waves of the Nix Sea, hoping against all odds to find the Tellusun Merchant ship bobbing in the waves. As usual, the frigid ocean was empty of any ships, extending into the cloud-choked sky for as far as the eye could see. She shouldn’t be disappointed after all the mornings of no Saoirse, but she still felt it as she gazed into the lifeless Nix Sea. Her heart felt as gutted as the decimated hulls that lay half-submerged in the harbor.

Something brushed against her cheek, soft as a snowflake. She almost didn’t notice as a feather spiraled to the snow at her feet. She looked up at the sky, squinting through the gray shroud of clouds. There were no birds in sight.

She bent down and picked up the feather. It was pale gray, almost silvery under the winter sun. She slid a finger along the downy barbs. She almost dropped the feather when its center started to glow. Words scrawled across its surface like ink welling from a golden pen.

Aurelia stared at the glowing words, her mouth going dry. Her fingers curled into her palms as she re-read them. Once. Twice. Three times.

She tucked the feather into her pocket, a surge of adrenaline and anger pumping through her veins as she strode over to the stabled winged horses. Rymir Barrow would pay for his despicable betrayal. The words emblazoned on the feather became her mantra, repeating with every beat of her heart. She drilled the instructions into memory, just like she did with every Torqen training regiment.

Rymir has betrayed us.

Half our rebels have been sold to Aurandel.

Gather those who remain and prepare for war.

Wait for us to return from Hel. -R

The wind nipped at her flushed cheeks, reminding her she was still alive. Curse phantom voices and ancient prophecies. Sod it all. She was Aurelia Eleni, Captain of the Torqen. Mythical fates and cords of destiny meant little to her. She’d be the one to decide when her time had come. And it certainly wasn’t today.

A new plan fabricated in her mind. She would be journeying to Coarinth it seemed. Noora and Adresin would not be left to torment and death within the dungeons of the Iron Queen.

Not if she could help it.

Aurelia clutched the leather strap on her shoulder, unclasping the satchel to peer inside. The Crown of Revelore glinted in the gray dawn, each gemstone polished to perfection despite the fact that she’d hauled it around for a week. Hasana had asked her to take the Crown for safekeeping. She hadn’t wanted to leave it behind in Bezhad or take it with them on their voyage to Terradrin. The Crown was a symbol that they couldn’t afford to let fall into the wrong hands, Hasana had said. She was waiting for the right time to destroy it. In the meantime, she’d asked Aurelia to keep it safe. For a moment, Aurelia swore that the four gems glowed faintly under her fingertips. When she blinked, they appeared lifeless and hollow. She shoved it deeper into her satchel and clasped it shut again.

Your death is the price to pay?—

She silenced the phantom whisper and set off for Coarinth.