Page 28

“I’m sorry, was my torture and imprisonment inconvenient for you?”

She stares at me, and then her mouth curves in a surprisingly infectious grin.

When she waves one hand toward the sofa in front of her, I sit, the warmth from the fire making my eyelids heavy.

“One would think you’d had enough sleep to last a lifetime.” She leans back, crossing her legs.

Ah. She clearly enjoys poking at people. “I wasn’t sleeping. As you likely know.” I let my gaze flick over her tight leggings, bejeweled tunic and carefully coiffed hair. “You don’t look like a seer.”

“What are seers supposed to look like?”

Crazy.

I don’t say the word, but she smirks at me.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

“Shaena. And you are Madinia Farrow. A woman who was caught within a vicious dream. One that wasn’t truly a dream at all. For three years.”

I grit my teeth. Three years of my life. Stolen. I’ll never get those years back.

“I know why you’re here, Madinia Farrow.”

“Then you know I’m searching for my friends.”

“What do you know of the grimoires?”

I sigh, pinching my nose. My scant hours of sleep didn’t help. If anything, I feel even more exhausted.

“I came to you with questions of my own.”

“This is important. Focus.” Her voice is hard, and I lift my head to find her looking at me with renewed urgency.

“The gods were fighting amongst themselves. They decided one of them had too much power. The Dark God.”

She nods. “His name was Calpharos, and he was clever, but forever bored. He and his twin grew tired of their siblings and their petty arguments as they shaped our world. His father had always had a soft spot for his youngest sons and had created one of the twins to be a little stronger than the others. And oh, how their siblings hated him for it.”

A strange sensation sweeps over me, making my skin crawl.

Shaena continues. “Tronin, the god of strength, fought Calpharos for years, becoming more and more frustrated as his brother bested him. So he conspired with Faric—the god of knowledge—and together, they went to their sister Creas, the goddess of memory.”

“They took his memories.”

She smiles. “They tried. But Calpharos was both betrayed and forewarned by another. He poured everything he was into those grimoires—his memories, his power, pieces of his soul. Then, he cast them out, intending to find them later, when it was safe. Those grimoires call to him, across continents, urging him to reclaim them. Urging him to become whole. And when he does, his fury will lay waste to this world.”

Tiny dots appear in front of my eyes.

Cal. Calpharos. Calysian.

“We have a problem,” I say, and my voice somehow stays steady.

The seer narrows her eyes and I force myself to continue.

“The dark god has already found me. And he’s looking for the grimoire I brought to this continent.”

Madinia

Shaena’s eyes roll up, and she slumps in her chair. “You must go before the queen’s men find you in this city. I can see you refuse to go with them, can see you choose death instead. But your death would lead to destruction on an unimaginable scale.” Her voice is hoarse as she relays her vision. With a sharp breath, she falls from her chair to the ground, her body seizing.